Our only hope

New Way to Be Human (1999)

Jon Foreman, lead singer of the rock band Switchfoot, has recently been posting live solo performance videos (from home, of course) of various Switchfoot songs.

One of these songs, 'Only Hope', comes from their album New Way to be Human. When my brother and I first discovered this album many years ago, I was struck by its spiritual depth and musical creativity. However, I didn't recognise how beautiful and powerful the song 'Only Hope' was until listening to it again recently.

The singer begins:

There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold
But you sing to me over and over and over again.

I interpret this to be a dialogue between the singer and God, whom the singer encounters within his soul. He hears God's song and the beauty of that song compels him to try to write his own songs.

Sing to me of the song of the stars
Of your galaxies dancing and laughing and laughing again
When I feel like my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

This alludes to the book of Jeremiah: '"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future"' (29:11).

Thus this song is about the steadfast design God has for each of us. This is also known as vocation. Here I am not talking about specific, individual vocations, such as a calling to the priesthood, marriage/celibacy or a certain profession. Although that is related, I am referring to the universal vocation that all people have: in short, to become Christlike.

Let me illustrate this. Here in the UK, we recently celebrated Mothering Sunday. This holiday (the origins of Mother's Day in the U.S. and Canada) is connected with the Feast of the Annunciation, when the Church celebrates the angel Gabriel announcing to the Virgin Mary that her vocation is to become the mother of the Lord. Every year this Feast is celebrated on 25th March, which is quite appropriately nine months before Christmas Day.

One can view 'Only Hope' from the Virgin Mary's perspective: the song inside of her soul is Christ, whom she will carry, give birth to and mother.

Like the Virgin Mary, our vocation is to bear Christ within us. How do we do this? It begins with acceptance and offering ourselves to God. In the words of the Virgin Mary: 'I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled' (Luke 1:38).

Similarly, Foreman expresses both receiving his vocation and offering himself to God:

I give you my apathy

I'm giving you all of me
I want your symphony singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs, I'm giving it back.

God calls us, but he does not force us. We must cooperate by accepting and giving back. After accepting her vocation, the Virgin Mary sings her own song of praise (called the Magnificat) and eventually offers Christ back to God, accepting that he must be about his Father's business through ministering, teaching and eventually laying down his own life for the world.

Christ is the song inside of our souls. Can we hear him? Will we join in, giving ourselves back to God? It is through our self-offering, in our love and service to God and neighbour, that we become more like Christ.

As we offer ourselves to God, we become more truly ourselves, and this is God's purpose for us. As St Irenaeus said, 'The glory of God is a human fully alive.'

The coronavirus pandemic has changed so many of our circumstances, but in these times, perhaps more than ever, our purpose remains to listen to Christ and offer his love to the people in our lives through a variety of ways (even from home!), and in so doing, fulfil our vocation of becoming more like Christ.

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

Prayer in response to these times (sermon)

Written for a church in Heysham, UK.

Scripture reading: Mark 9:17–31


Our Gospel passage today is read by many churches during the season of Lent. I chose it for us to look at because I think it might be helpful for us in these challenging circumstances we face.

A boy has been living with an unclean spirit. The boy’s father brings him to Jesus’ disciples, who are unable to cast the spirit out. Disappointed, the father sees Jesus approaching and asks him for help.

What terrible things this spirit has done to the son! ‘Often he has thrown him both into the fire and into the water to destroy him.’ This spirit desperately tries to ‘steal, kill and destroy’ the life of this child, but Jesus has come that he ‘may have life, and have it to the full’ (John 10:10).

When the father tells Jesus that the disciples have been unable to cast the spirit out, Jesus says, ‘O faithless generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I bear with you?’ It seems Jesus is disappointed in the disciples’ lack of faith, which has made them unable to cast out the spirit. After Jesus casts out the spirit, the disciples privately ask Jesus why they had failed. He tells them such a task could only have been done by prayer and fasting. Perhaps they had not been praying as they ought.

I wonder if there is a word for us in here somewhere. We find ourselves in a similar – though not identical – situation with the coronavirus epidemic. On one hand, the virus is not a spirit; it is a biological organism. God may miraculously remove the virus in one instant, but he may also guide the knowledge and skill of doctors and nurses, and the natural effects of medicine, to overcome it. Yet, like the unclean spirit, the virus steals, kills and destroys human life, bringing chaos and despair upon us.

Perhaps we can learn from Jesus that our response must be rooted in prayer.

How timely Jesus’ words to his disciples are in this season of Lent, when many Christians already devote attention to prayer and fasting! Ironically, one may see our self-isolating as a kind of fast: a fast from nonessentials, a fast from our usual business and routines, which can help us to focus on the one thing that is needed (Luke 10:42).

It seems we are in this struggle against Covid-19 for the long haul. Like an athlete preparing for a marathon, we need to get fitter and stronger – physically and emotionally, but especially spiritually. We do this through prayer.

Since most churches have stopped meeting for worship temporarily, we need spiritual communion with Christ even more, to ensure that we are well-nourished by his healing presence.

Also, many of us will be called upon to help our neighbours in a variety of ways. Like the disciples, maybe our help will be ineffective if we are not first praying. Without regular prayer, we might burn out, collapsing before we get to the finish line.

Sometimes prayer is the last thing I want to do, even when I know how essential it is. But if I want to maintain a good relationship with my family members or friends, for example, I must stay in touch with them regularly. Prayer is staying in touch with God. It is our lifeline, our connection with the source of our life. Without a growing relationship with God, we lose clear vision, guidance and the strength to keep going on the Way of Christ.

Prayer is like continually adding compost and rich nutrients to soil, while also removing weeds, stones and rubbish. From such a foundation, plants can flourish and bear fruit.

Where can we begin? Perhaps with the father’s confession of his lack of faith, which might resemble our own: ‘Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!’ This is enough for Jesus, so it should be enough for us. And even if we have been praying for many years, do we not all have room for further deepening our prayer lives?

If we find ourselves lacking words, we can turn to the Psalms or the Lord’s prayer. We can pray a simple prayer again and again, resembling the request of the father: ‘Lord, have mercy on us and help us.’ We can start praying little by little at first and then grow it so that this conversation and communion with God encompasses our whole life. As St Paul encourages us, we strive to ‘pray without ceasing’ (1 Thess. 5:17).

As we bring the needs of the world and our own need for healing before Jesus, may he fill us with faith, hope and love. May he live in us, and we live in him, more and more so that in this time of isolation we find that we are not alone, but in deeper communion with Christ and with each other.

Writing as path-making

I recently listened to a talk on the intersection between Christian faith and fiction writing. It compared the writing and thinking of two Catholic fiction writers, J.R.R. Tolkien and Flannery O'Connor.

I believe the heart of the speaker's message was that the task of the Christian writer is to create a living world for readers to enter, a world that prepares them to encounter Christ -- both within the fictional world and especially in the reader's own real world.

As I listened to the talk, I remembered a sermon I heard earlier this year in a church service, and this gave me an image to help me more clearly understand the speaker's message. The sermon was about John the Baptist's ministry as told in the Gospel of Mark (1:2-3), and the image is that of a path-maker:

I will send my messenger ahead of you,

who will prepare your way --

a voice of one calling in the desert,

"Prepare the way for the Lord,

make straight paths for him." 

In the sermon, the priest prompted us to be like John the Baptist and make paths for others. He asked, 'How can we prepare for people a path that leads to the Lord?'

I live in a part of the country with many public footpaths. A clear footpath prevents walkers from getting lost (or at it least helps) and enables walkers to encounter the beauty and wilderness of the hills, woods, rivers and other elements of the landscape. A good footpath is clearly defined and yet also blends in with its surroundings, enabling the walker to enjoy the walking experience.

Cat Bells, near Keswick, Cumbria

Relating this to the talk, the task of the Christian writer is to create such a footpath, except rather than using stones or soil, they use words, characters and stories to create a world in which the reader can encounter the beauty and wildness of God's world, with the aim of somehow, directly or indirectly (usually indirectly, according to the speaker), connecting the reader with Christ.

Perhaps this task of path-making should encompass all of our lives, so that every action, word and thought can become a road which leads others (and ourselves) to Christ.

When I walk past my neighbour on the street, how can my brief interaction with them -- whether engaging in conversation, saying 'Hello' or even simply observing their face -- lay down a small stone which, over time, can become a road to Christ?

I am in the process of digging up a patch of our garden, preparing the soil to grow vegetables and other plants. I hope that, in a small way, this garden becomes for people a path to Christ: that when people walk by and look at the garden, they might appreciate the beauty of God's creation, which might point them to the beauty and work of Christ.

The Apostle Paul writes, 'And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him' (Col. 3:17).

If we are permitted to add to this according to the topic of this blog post, then in whatever we do, whether in word or deed, we should make a path that leads towards God.

Seathwaite Fells (photo)

Looking towards the Seathwaite Fells in the Duddon Valley, Cumbria

We try to go out walking regularly, and I have recently been taking photos to send to family. I may start posting some of them here on the blog as well.