I wonder what stirs you as you read these words from this past Sunday’s first reading. For me, it awakens a sense of deep longing. Like those in Galilee at the time of Jesus, we live in a land of deep shadows. It is not difficult for us to relate to a sense of oppression, hopelessness and darkness in our
context.
We long to hear good news, but it isn’t easy to find when we log onto our news apps or browse our Twitter feed. Instead, we are more likely to hear news of a deepening load-shedding crisis, corruption, and under-resourced schools and hospitals. We struggled through the pandemic only to be submerged again by
relentless challenges and with little sense of how we will find a way through.
The reading from Isaiah is a prophecy that tells of the coming of Jesus and offers a message of hope and good news. Not only good news for the people of that time and place but hope for all of humankind.
We are asked to put our hope in the Lord as our light and help and, as it says in the psalm, to “hope in Him, hold firm and take heart.” Barack Obama put it this way: “Hope in the face of difficulty. Hope in the face of uncertainty. The audacity of hope! In the end, that is God’s greatest gift to us… A belief in things not seen. A belief that there are better days
ahead.”
It isn’t simple. The scriptures are not asking us to put our heads in the sand and deny the struggles and challenges we face each day. But they ask us to believe that there is a deeper reality. That God is working for our good. We are asked to believe that, ultimately, the light will triumph over darkness; that we will
experience joy.
It is undeniable that without the perspective of our faith, it is impossible to see the way through in a context where we know that things seem to be unravelling. And yet, the invitation is to believe that there will ultimately be good news. One of my favourite quotes attributed to John Lennon (and
reminiscent of the mystic Julian of Norwich) is, "Everything will be ok in the end, and if it is not ok, it's not yet the end.”