“In such a world as ours today, no light glib word of hope dare be spoken. … Only if we look long and deeply into the abyss of despair do we dare to speak of hope. … We dare not tell people to hope in God … unless we know what it means to have absolutely no other hope but in God. But as we know something of such a profound and amazing assurance, clear at the depths of our beings, then we dare to proclaim it boldly in the midst of a world aflame.”
Thomas Kelly
Those “light glib words of hope” that Thomas Kelly refers to – like wish, desire, expectation, and anticipation – are based on wanting things we do not currently have, and trusting that life will give them to us. This kind of hope can help us to cope in the short term, but often leads to the disappointments of unmet expectations, and – as we go through disappointment after disappointment – it’s easy to lose hope, and become bitter and depressed.
But, as Kate Davies describes in A Quaker Perspective on Hope, the dictionary also has an older definition of hope:
“This older and much less common meaning is about trusting life, without the expectation of attaining particular outcomes any time soon. This type of hope has a quiet but unshakeable faith in whatever happens and in the human capacity to respond to it constructively. It is a positive, but not necessarily optimistic, attitude to life that does not depend on external conditions or circumstances.”
As George Fox advised in an epistle to Friends in America :
“Hold fast the hope which anchors the soul, which is sure and steadfast, that you may float above the world’s sea.”
This is the kind of hope we seek in worship: the inner light; the quiet, still voice; the experience of the Great Mystery; and faith in that of God in everyone.
So, Friends, let us hold our expectations lightly, and settle in to the deeper hope, “a profound and amazing assurance, clear at the depths of our beings”, that arises in us as we join in worship together.