I recently had the chance to join a church community in decorating a Chrismon tree. You may wonder how that differs from a Christmas tree. It’s quite similar, except all the ornaments — i.e. Chrismons — are Christian symbols. Members of the community chose a Chrismon from a bowl and then came to the tree one by one to hang their symbol.
While we were doing this, I invited everyone to reflect in one of two directions:
- If you could allow yourself to hope for something audacious, what would it be? Something that seems almost impossible?
- Or, if you can’t hope audaciously—or if you can’t hope at all—who is a person or community in your life that does hope? How might you let them hope for you right now? Can we let that be enough?
As we placed our Chrismons on the tree, these were the questions we held. This feels like an important time to think about hope, especially when hope it can feel so elusive.
I was reminded of an article by Dr. Dave Jensen, a theologian at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, recently published in Windows. He wrote that hope isn’t the same as optimism. It “fosters attention to places that hurt: right here, right now.” Nor is hope simply realism. “It’s not the seasoned wisdom of checking our ambitions, modifying our dreams, or settling for what is ‘possible’ giving current realities. There is much in our culture that encourages truncated hope… Nothing new will emerge; accept things as they are.” He shares that “hope, instead, encourages us to see the present world differently.”
Sometimes that’s hard work. Sometimes it’s painful. And sometimes it’s beyond us. But maybe that’s when we lean into the hopes of others and know that their hope can carry us, too.
With all this in mind, how might you reflect on those questions today?
— Renee Roederer
Dr. David H. Jensen’s article is entitled, Living Hope, and is published in Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary’s publication, Windows, Fall 2024.
Smuggling Grace 