MARY'S HOUSE

We yearn for a world of justice and peace; we see within ourselves that such a world could - even should - be.  The whole cosmos struggles to bring it to birth, and we too groan in anguish as we await that new day.  

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Hope is not facile; hope doesn't sweep injustice under the rug.  No, hope groans and cries out against the injustices we see.  To be hopeful means to open our eyes and see the deaths of young black men, of the people of Afghanistan, of Palestinians in Gaza.  It means to see and face the suffering in Detroit when water is cut off; it means to feel the pain of a parent who works two jobs and still can't feed their family.  

Hope means to experience the anger that rises up from our core, and yet refuse to hate.  Hope means to make those small changes in our own lives that allow us to act for systemic change.  

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Hope is to see the seeds of a better future in the imperfect actions we take today.  It is to have faith that, as Dorothy Sayers once wrote, "There is no waste with God; He cancels nothing but redeems all."  In the ultimate scheme of things justice will prevail, and love will be vindicated.

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Keep hope alive.  When we vigil each week we aren't intending to have a political effect.  We're keeping our own hope alive by speaking out, and we're raising a question or two in the minds of passersby - we know this because they stop to talk.

When we vigil, we aren't intending immediate change, but we are serving notice that change must come. We walk together in a diverse group, mixed ages and races, calling down justice:  we keep hope alive.