In Sarah Bessey's Out of Sorts: Making Peace with an Evolving Faith, she writes about how hope can grow out of despair:
“Theologian and scholar Walter Brueggemann writes beautifully in 'The Prophetic Imagination' that real hope comes only after despair. Only if we have tasted despair, only if we have known the deep sadness of unfulfilled dreams and promises, only if we can dare to look reality in the face and name it for what it is, can we dare to begin to imagine a better way. Hope is subversive precisely because it dares to admit that all is not as it should be. And so we are holding out for, working for, creating, prophesying, and living into something better...for the healing of the nations, for swords to be beaten into plowshares, for joy to come in the morning, and for redemption and justice.”
This concept that dark periods not only lead to but are among the necessary precedents for hope resonates for me. In my religious life, I've long been taught and have experienced that when I seek and work for spiritual light, I must first grapple with opposition and darkness such as fear, uncertainty and struggle. We cannot recognize light without also discerning the dark, or joy and hope without knowing sadness or discouragement.
When I was a child, my dad felt a lot of pain watching a close friend suffer greatly from severe mental illness. He feared that this suffering was a tragic and meaningless waste. He felt despair. But in time as he pondered his questions about suffering, he had a spiritual experience that led him to have faith that all suffering could lead to wisdom and love. He taught me to hope that "no suffering is wasted," and these words have found a permanent place within me. They are not intended to imply suffering comes from a divine source or is ever deserved or necessary. Nor is this idea an excuse to ignore or fail to prevent suffering. For me, it's an audacious expression of hope that even the most tragic and dark events and aspects of our world can be transformed and fully dignified by love and healing, both human and divine.
Winter is a time when many of us are more prone to feel darkness, both physical and spiritual. Remembering that facing darkness and even my moments of despair and grief can empower me to discover joy and hope helps me endure this time. May any disappointments or pain you are currently undergoing begin to yield fruits of hope, action and creativity for you this semester!
