In a lot of video games, there is a map you have to explore. Oftentimes, the map is obscured by a fog or shadow that limits your visibility to things in your immediate periphery. As you explore the map, more and more of it becomes visible and you are able to move more freely across it.
The Pope has called us to be pilgrims of hope this year. When I imagine my faith journey as a journey, it looks a lot like these video games. The places I’ve been are pretty clear to me, but looking ahead, I can rarely see past my next step.
I work regularly with immigrant communities who are dealing with a level of uncertainty I can not begin to understand. People are afraid to attend any public event or even go to Church. I don’t know what it feels like to hear leaders so directly attack my identity and status as a citizen and human being. Words and gestures seem inadequate in the face of very real threats of violence and oppression.
When I read the Gospels, I see Jesus facing a very similar reality. The relationship between the Israelites and Rome was incredibly volatile and the people Jesus surrounded himself must have lived with a constant fear of annihilation. Of course, in 70 C.E. the Jewish people revolted and the Romans completely destroyed the City of Jerusalem. It was around this time that the Gospels were written. It is a comforting reminder that the Good News was written specifically for times of oppression and upheaval.
Hope is not about certainty or clarity. Instead, hope requires us to stare into the mist with the trust that no matter what lies beyond our sight, God will be there too. Perceptively, Jesus doesn’t promise that everything will be fine. In fact, he repeatedly says that to follow him is to face suffering, death, and persecution. Even in the Hebrew Scriptures, Moses never gets to enter the promised land, and Israel’s prosperity is short lived before they are conquered.
So we step into the mist because our salvation lies somewhere beyond.
Deep in the woods, beyond the well worn paths and manicured meadows lies the wild brush Where badgers and chipmunks scurry and scrape Standing there between the aching trees you may hear a voice calling from within calling from without Will you step over logs covered in moss and ferns through muck and mush to the heart of the forest? Are you ready to hear What it has to say?