New hope in the new year

Some might say, as they think about the dawning new year, "There's just no point in holding out hope for our world." They point to entrenched problems—war in countries that have been fighting for decades or for centuries, poverty, loneliness, incurable disease, political oppression. And, they ask, "Is there ever going to be a time when the world will be free of these scourges? What's the point of keeping a flicker of hope alive when these problems seem so intractable?"

Sometimes it isn't just the mega-problems of the world that seem beyond resolving. Everyday obstacles can haunt people, telling them things aren't going to get better—their finances, lack of education, over-priced housing, health, relationships.

As Christians, however, we are required to hope. For hope is fundamental to faith, to trust, and to obedience to God. The First Epistle of John, in the Bible, includes this promise: "Here and now, dear friends, we are God's children; what we shall be has not yet been disclosed, but we know that when it is disclosed we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope before him purifies himself, as Christ is pure" (3:2, 3).

From Scripture such as this, it's clear that to keep hope vibrantly burning in our hearts is an imperative from God. Additionally, to feel despair or to dismiss any situation as bereft of hope, doesn't acknowledge the power of God's love—illuminating, supporting, and catalyzing progressive human action everywhere.

The Bible abounds with examples of people who moved forward, despite overwhelming odds, with no tangible proof that tomorrow would bring release from dire circumstances. Their hope was just that—the quiet, unshakeable conviction that God, divine Love, was controlling every aspect of their lives, regardless of temporary circumstances.

One man, Joseph, endured betrayal, injustice, wrongful imprisonment. Yet he persevered, keeping faith with God. And his faith—his hope—was rewarded many times over.

Mary Baker Eddy wrote about the effectiveness of hope when it arises out of a spiritual foundation. She wrote in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures: "If our hopes and affections are spiritual, they come from above, not from beneath, and they bear as of old the fruits of the Spirit" (p. 451). And according to the Bible, the fruits of the Spirit include "love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law" (Gal. 5:22, 23).

Today, in Tehran, Iran, a college professor has been arrested, condemned to death for blasphemy. Basically his crime is publicly criticizing Iran's ruling religious establishment. But Hashem Aghajari does not waste away in forgotten isolation. Thousands of Iranian students have taken to the streets to protest his arrest.

In Zhongxiang, China, Ma Yuqin has survived torture by the police, who have tried to force her to disclose the names of members of her Christian church or to sign a statement renouncing her Christian faith. She has refused to do either. And today she bravely tells a Western reporter to publish her full name along with her account of what she's suffered because of the Chinese government's crackdown on underground Christian churches. She says she is not afraid ("God and China," The New York Times, November 26, 2002).

And then there is the Sinikithemba Choir. Even in their African red hats and black costumes, each member of the choir is a strikingly unique and joyful presence. They begin their concert with the song: "Lord, give me hope ...." What is so poignant is that all of these singers have been diagnosed HIV positive. Currently on tour in the US, Sinikithemba originated in South Africa, where the choir began as a support group for infected mothers. The traditional Zulu and spiritual songs they sang together now comprise their concerts.

Stories such as these from Africa, or accounts of suffering wrought by repressive regimes such as those in Iran and China, demonstrate that people everywhere are living under hopeless conditions. But they also proclaim that it is not naive to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with these people in our prayers—to support their courage by keeping vigilance over our own faith in God's justice and love—by offering our own hope, prayer, and conviction for their better futures. How can we lose faith if the very victims of these terrors have not?

Ma Yuquin has not lost hope; nor has Hashem Aghajari; and certainly not the members of Sinikithemba Choir. Their stories reassure the world that hope is alive, it is active, it is powerful. "Lord, give me hope ..." is not only a song, it is a prayer. A prayer that will help the world.

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January 6, 2003
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