Happy New Year! Such a simple sentiment isn’t it? Its one of those phrases we say without ever really thinking about what it means. In fact, when we greet most people around the holiday season, “Happy”, or one of its synonyms, is usually included. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Happy New Year. Now don’t get me wrong, Happy is great. Happy is fun. Happy is, well, happy. But sometimes happy is not realistic. Recently, I was talking to someone after church. We were both reflecting on some of the challenges we had both engaged over the past two years. She remembered New Year’s day two years ago, with all its hopes and possibilities for the year ahead, but had no way of anticipating just how hard it would end up being, especially for her adult daughter. “But here we are now. We made it through these past two years and now our lives are filled with so much joy and possibility. I could have never imagined how hard that first year would be, but I also could never imagine how beautifully redeemed the hard parts would be either.”
Does this resonate with you like it did with me? Many of us anticipate the year ahead with squeaky clean optimism and resolve to engage in behaviors that aim to bring those desires to fruition. We want the mountain top experience and will organize our lives in such a way to make it so. But as the saying goes, “life is what happens when you are busy making other plans”. At risk of sounding like a pessimistic Eeyore, is it possible to also anticipate the valley experience when we consider the future? Of course, there is nothing wrong in wanting the best, but what about also making peace with the worst?
In a mysterious way, I think this is where true hope comes in. Hope is not the anticipation of happiness. Hope is what anchors us to the knowledge that no matter what, God, our Emmanuel, is with us and is at the work of redeeming all things. Hope knows our Redeemer God has the final word, not our circumstances. God redeems the hot, dry valleys. God redeems illness. God redeems college rejection letters. God redeems death. We cannot dictate how our coming year will turn out, but we can stand firmly in the knowledge that God is with us through it all, holding our hand. I encourage you to reflect on this poem by Rainer Maria Rilke, not as a way of groveling in pain, but as a means of understanding hope: real, gritty, shadowy ever-present hope. Have a Hope-filled New Year.
~Peace,
Pastor Beth
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand. – Rainer Maria Rilke