The 1987 Golden Globe award winning movie Hope and Glory was set in World War II London, as seen through the eyes of Billy, an eleven-year-old boy, hunkered down with his two older sisters, mom and dad. With bombs falling all around, and significant characters conscripted into the army, I kept waiting for tragedy to intrude upon the warm, charming, funny family. But the catastrophe kept not showing up…until the very end…when it seemed like the director would manipulatively squeeze it in!
The final scene opens with Billy riding with his grandpa toward the first day of his new semester in London. They’re both totally glum because this day officially ended their magical country summer together. As the car comes to its destination, the 1940’s driver, and passenger, along with my 1980’s movie theatre full of people watching it, simultaneously discovered theschoolhouse freshly blown to smithereens. “Here it is, at the very end!” I scowled, and clutched my theatre chair. “They saved the crushing tragedy for the very last scene of this movie!” But the next thing you know…that’s not what occurred! Happily, the blown up school building represented a moment of great triumph for Billy and his mates! Into the streets poured boys and girls screaming with delight whileschool papers blew in the wind like party confetti. One of the boys caught in the foreground by a deft cameraman captured the mood of this scene perfectly. He stops his celebration just long enough to lift his joyous face to the heavens and shout, “Thank you Adolf!”
This week, I was that boy.
Any adult watching the movie knew that having the ability to attend school snatched away is not great for the long-term prospects of a little boy or a little girl’s future. Nonetheless, every adult in the 1987 theater watching that movie alongside me cheered out loud just like all of those kids on the big screen…just like I did.
Today, I’m cheering out loud for a different reason. My chosen home of Saint Louis is enjoying San Diego-like weather within the same month as the winter solstice. Anyone who has grown up east of the Rockies, and north of the Mason-Dixon line will know that listening to “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” while wearing shorts and a t-shirt is at least a little surrealistic.
Like the adults watching that movie, I know that the long term prospects for our planet (including my children, and future grandchildren) are not great if we don’t mitigate human-causedclimate change. Nevertheless, bike riding to and from work in December has a way of summoning up the little boy inside of me to hoot and holler just a little. And just like the little boy in the movie, long-term consequences fall to the side when the short term reality of summer in the winter is so sweet!
A Call to Nature Mysticism
For many centuries, Jewish scholars have written midrash on the book of Genesis, admonishing their students to reverence and care for creation rather than exploit it. Kosher laws themselves aim at the humane treatment of the animals that give their lives for us. Pope Francis in this decade, sounding a lot like his Twelfth Century namesake from Assisi, writes and preaches about recognizing the dignity of creation and our role in caring for it.
Practicing Hope
So what’s a spiritually committed person to do? It does the world no good to pull a sad, worried face, mothball the bicycle, and wring hands in response to a gorgeous day! I would like to propose a humble starting spot. Can you and I nurture a psychology and spirituality of hope? As a psychotherapist, I frequently assist clients in discerning the difference between denial and hope. Hope involves the courage to take a clear-eyed, realistic view of things despite the upheaval that may cause. Hope is the willingness to act according to one’s convictions even when the positive outcomes of those actions are not apparent. For example, my personal choices of recycling, and attempting to reduce my carbon footprint impacts the environment about as much as my peeing in the Atlantic impacts the PH balance of that ocean. I make those personal choices as a form of prayer, as an act of solidarity beyond their practical impact. Hope believes in the power of soul-force. Hope won’t allow us to settle for the short-term pseudo peace of quietism. Hope eventually compels action…like my friend, Walt, who inundates politicians’ mailboxes…like my engineer-nephew, Daniel, who dedicates his time and intelligence to one day create fresh sources of green energy…like educators who partner with industry leaders to encourage greener production processes.
Advent
This time of year is traditionally set aside to acknowledge the hopeful belief that we live in the space of “the already, but not quite yet.” This world, including creation, including your soul and my soul, your body, and my body is shot through with the presence of God, just not in all of its fulfillment quite yet. To live in this space, fully committed to bringing about the necessary “not yet,” it is essential to ground one’s thought and activity in the rich soil of hope. What feeds and grows your hope?