2020 Fin. 2021 Hope.

With all of it’s crazy, 2020 has come to a close. From the pandemic (which continues to plague us worldwide) to the election (which we all knew deep down was going to be a debacle), we aren’t exactly heading into 2021 with a clean slate. There are a lot of things still hanging out there. Lingering. We all like (or at least appreciate) a clean break; a neat, tied-up end; a modicum of closure … don’t we? I sure do. But this year wasn’t really about that. Because of the pandemic and the invasive role of politics affecting nearly every single area of life, it’s as if we all became super polarized — nearly forced to take a side over masks, lockdowns, fact-checking, democrat, republican, BLM, among other things. We experienced riots, looting, protests, cities occupied (remember CHAZ?), censorship, new judges, stimulus relief, economy tanking, unemployment rising, and the speaker of the house tearing up the President’s speech.

Churches across the nation responded in different ways — al while trying to figure out this new normal and how to operate. Some embraced a position of compassion and sensitivity, with virtual services while others decided to vocally defy the mandates, citing their “right to assemble” even if it meant spreading the virus. I saw many friends turn to sharing the latest conspiracy theories and fear-mongering or republican talking points, often with a lack of facts or half truths. Others became even more vitriolic toward the President and anyone who didn’t agree with their progressive position. Then I had friends who looked at the whole mess and became completely disenfranchised or confused at why suddenly the church — the place that should be centered around Christ — was suddenly talking about politics and who we should vote for. Some felt ostracized because their church thought if you wore a mask you were giving up your “God-given” rights. They felt that it was our duty as believers to set an example of how to respond in the midst of a crisis. Overall, the it seemed like the church in America seemed to be failing miserably at “in love and humility consider others better than ourselves.”

Almost overnight, people became experts on virology and constitutional law on Facebook/Twitter with a PhD in Google research. The divide is real. Pretty much right down the middle. Just look at how we voted… just like the last election. And right now it’s still being contested with lawsuits flying about, claims and affidavits of election laws being broken, voter fraud, falsified ballots, and Chinese interference. And here it is, the last day of the year and we don’t have the final answer yet… technically. People are stressed, tired, hurting, broke, out of work, losing businesses, filled with anxiety, suicidal. When faith gets all mixed and mingled with nationalism, pandemics and politics, it’s easy to self-select out. It’s rough. Reading all of that, it’s hard to have hope and stay positive and steady in the midst of all this. 

Consider it joy when you are faced with trials and difficulties, so says the book of James. For these trials refine you, perfect you, and help you learn patience. As St. Paul says, these momentary light afflictions are working within you a greater weight of glory… this is the long view — the eternal mindset not bound by the here and now.

These are some of the scriptures and teachings that I often turn to in times like these because I believe that after the storm, the sun will break through. Even though the aftermath might look afright, there’s HOPE that I will stand up on shaky legs, breathe deep, and say, “OK. I made it. I learned some things — about myself, about my friends and family, about my community and nation — so now, I will take what I have learned and how I changed and move forward … with JOY.” Because in it all, that is a part of the journey — learning to embrace joy when all seems dark and it’s hard to see the light for the permacloud of depression and weariness that blankets the world. Above those clouds is the brightness and warmth of the sun. It’s there, I promise you it is. And it will break through with glorious and brilliant rays that light up the grey. Joy tells us that even though it was a trial, we came through it… and next time, we have something we can hold to because we learned and changed and grew. It was purposeful. That sure charges up the old HOPE battery, doesn’t it. 

So as this year closes and the next begins, that’s my word — HOPE. For better days to come, for clearer understanding; for greater compassion and empathy; for focused perspective and vision; for acts of love in humility; for deeper connections with the Divine. I hope for those things in me. I hope that the teachings of Christ in the Sermon on the Mount are ingrained in my being — these ways of life that are not a “me-first” selfish mentality, but a life of unselfish giving, humble understanding, stability, and JOY. Like I so often say to myself, “I don’t want to get caught up in the swirl and chaos of emotion and opinion, I want to live above the fray and stay steady on course… pointed at the North Star and straight on til morning…”