Readings:
Isaiah 44: 6-8
Psalm 86: 11-end
Romans 8: 12-25
Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43

Collect
Creator God,  
you made us all in your image:
may we discern you in all that we see,
and serve you in all that we do;
through Christ our Lord. Amen

Reflection - Hold on to Hope

Over the past weeks people have been tying ribbons onto our church gates, fences, trees and railings. It’s not a strange act of vandalism – we’ve been actively encouraging it! These “Ribbons of Hope” have been a colourful symbol of the prayers, wishes, desires – yes, hopes - of many in our communities. Hopes for health, for job security; hopes for community, children, protection. A little strip of cloth, fluttering in the breeze – its very fragility and smallness speaking powerfully of defiant vulnerability; a vulnerability echoing the cross, a defiance highlighting the resurrection. “Hope” (and its sister “Faith”) has been derided by many in the past – a useless thing, a fantasy, a crutch for the weak. What’s the point of hope when the powerful always win? When death gets us all in the end?

It all depends on what you’re hoping for! A selfish hope seems to dissipate like morning mist once realised – it’s never quite as good as we thought it would be, and sometimes even turns around to bite us. Hope for self-advancement, for influence, for ease, for material well-being – well, as human as these hopes might be, they’re rarely as fulfilling as we’d like – and at what cost are these hopes realised?

Hope that’s worth having is closely tied up with vision, and with action. This is about strength and determination. It’s not a passive, sighing, longing thing, reminiscent of Victorian ladies pining away in their drawing rooms. It’s not about individual advantage either.

Do we have a vision of a world where people have an equal chance at happiness, self-determination, health, education? Do we have a vision of a community where old and young are valued, and can listen, explore, weep, laugh and play together in safety? Do we have a vision of a life where it doesn’t matter what colour your skin is, or who your parents are, or who you love, or what your body can or cannot do? Where it doesn’t matter how old you are, or what you call yourself; where money doesn’t determine your fate, and no-one is expendable?

We know the world is not like that – not yet. That’s an agonising thing for so many – as Paul writes in Romans ‘the whole creation groans.’ But it’sthe world, the community, the life, that is presented to us as a possibility, shouting at us from the pages of our Bibles, and echoing down the centuries through all those folk who held onto this vision, held onto hope, and worked to bring us a step closer. It can be our hope too.

Hoping for these things does make us vulnerable – to criticism, to derision, to our own weariness and doubt when it seems to take so long. But hoping for these things is our defiant stand too – a defiance that can bring us, and others, strength and courage and dignity. The world does not have to be a place where the weak and sorrowing are trampled upon, where the stranger is cast out, where the elderly are left in loneliness and poverty, where decisions are made with guns or bank balances.

If our vision, and our hope, is for these things then our actions must be also. We may feel that we are as fragile and fluttering as a ribbon in the breeze. But look at those railings and fences and trees. Not just one ribbon, but many. Those little strips of cloth have transformed our old iron railings, our trees, into colourful sentinels. So our collective vision, hopes and actions can transform the spaces around us. Maybe even the world.

Paul writes “The creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” Friends, this is our time to be revealed. Our time to tie our colours to the mast, our ribbons to the fence. There are many around us who long for a better way, for joy and love and peace in their lives. Let us set out in hope.

Sharon Grenham-Thompson