Hope

Dear friends,

I took the above picture about 7 years ago- sunrise in Hebron, a city in the southern part of the West Bank, where over the years I've spent many months as a human rights defender. I turn to the beauty of this photo now and remember my friends there, who have also brought such beauty into my life and our world. I know they are hurting right now. So many people are hurting. 

Recently I was in a conversation about activism and different ways of practicing it and expressing ourselves as we advocate (a conversation, as someone noted, that is a result of the privilege we have since we are generally safe). In the conversation, someone said "Rage is the voice of the oppressed." I've been thinking a lot about that statement and keep coming back to this: 

Rage is a voice of the oppressed. 

So is hope.

So is grief.

So is joy.

I find myself wanting to recognize the and of it all. I find myself wanting to let all people, including "the oppressed," to be fully human in all its waves and ways. As I watch what is happening in Gaza, I, and probably you, have seen rage, grief, despair. I've also seen determination, joy, beauty, love, and even sometimes hope. I've also felt all those things myself. In my life I've been in places of devastating poverty and with people who've been subject to horrific violence and I’ve experienced in them a bent toward life, joy, and hope that seems elusive among some of us who've suffered much less.

We have a choice. 

If I ask myself, "What energy do I want to turn toward?" my answer is hope. I don't mean this in a Pollyanna or head-in-the-sand sort of way. Rage, grief, despair are healthy responses to what is happening in the world and they certainly arise in me. When they come, I try to give them attention and care and ask for help when I'm stuck in them. When I am able to let them move through me, I am not devoured by them. When they get stuck, I am consumed, immobilized, and exhausted.

When I am able to turn toward hope, my body relaxes. I am energized in a way that is sustainable and sustaining. When I turn toward hope, I can see the world I want to create instead of playing on repeat the painful parts of the world that is. When I turn toward hope, I turn toward other people, the potential of our collective power, and action. When I turn toward hope, I am more able to receive and support others who are in a different place than I am.

A few years ago I wrote this Advent piece invoking hope for JustFaith Ministries. If you are Christian (and maybe if you're not), it may speak to you. I don't claim to know the path toward the fullness of peace I wish to see in the world. But I do know how to turn toward you and toward others so we can practice together. I know that every time I've been in circles of open-hearted people, even when we've started in rage, despair, and grief, I have felt myself expand and my hope expand. 

We need each other. 

And so I turn toward you, toward us, believing that, like the sun, our hope and our action will light the world. 

With love, 
Cory