A Future Full of Hope

Gustav Klimt,  Hope II  (1907-08)

Gustav Klimt, Hope II (1907-08)

It is Mary’s birthday, and the world is soft with the lambency of dawn. Even nightfall cannot destroy this softness. The Sun of Justice rises, and our champion will not be overmastered as He runs His course.

        We recently prayed from the breviary the letter Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the exilic community in Babylon (29:1-14). Even in the unmaking of their communal existence, in the reversal of the Exodus, life must be lived, the divine commission to man and woman in the beginning (Genesis 1:28) carried out:

“Build houses to dwell in; plant gardens, and eat their fruits. Take wives and beget sons and daughters… Promote the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you.”

        So it must be for you and me. What antic styles of death-in-life do we undergo as the years toll on! Evading love, being denied love. How hard we are to each other, cutting off, tearing down with gossip. Yet, in the dark passages especially, we must be faithful.

        And then the monstrosities! What was done to the girls of Rotherham, the decapitations of James Foley and Steven Sotloff… These horrors epitomize untold others, under these terrorists, under the barbaric misogynies of ideologico-religious fanaticism or of radicalized consumerism, in the porn industry and sex trade. And, always, the babies destroyed in the safest place on earth. Remember the victims.  Pray for all the poor souls, crushed or dead!

        Today, and for the days following, there is a quiet light that promises:

“For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope. When you call Me, when you go to pray to Me, I will listen to you. When you look for Me, you will find Me. Yes, when you seek Me with all your heart, you will find Me with you, says the Lord, and I will change your lot.”

        Maternal flesh and divine flesh are touching the tortured flesh of humanity. Through His Mother, Jesus comes on and on, in the times of our breaking, the times of our rising.