The Geography of Hope

April 14, 1968 (Easter)
Plainfield

The Geography of Hope

"We must drive into the heads of men the full consciousness of moral responsibility that comes with the knowledge that there will never be a God unless we make him." George Bernard Shaw wrote these words (quoted by Christian Century, 10/16/63) and he would certainly be astounded to discover that a new trend in Christian theology is remarkably like Shaw's challenge. I would like to speak of this theological trend, "the theology of hope" which derives from the Death of God theology; discuss whether or not there are grounds for hope; and consider whether or not the Christian theology of hope has significance for Unitarians and Universalists.

Easter is a season of hope, whether accepted as ancient pagan celebration of the renewal of life or Christian rituals of the resurrection of the crucified Christ. But hope has a geographical meaning. Is the map of hope drawn of this world or another world? Hope can be worldly or other-worldly.

Historically, Christian hope, based on the old story of salvation, has been other-worldly. The true believers were convinced that Christ died for their sins on the cross, was buried and on the third day rose from the dead. Furthermore, he would one day come again and by his supernatural powers overcome the forces of evil and redeem those chosen to be saved. Heaven was their destination – an other-worldly salvation hope. Such a hope relied not at all on any on any power or strength available in human resources. As one representative Christian theologian put it, "Christian hope does not rest on an idea but on the living person of Jesus Christ, risen from the dead. He alone can guarantee an inheritance which is imperishable. By his resurrection, Christ laid the foundations of hope in eternal life and delivers us from the calamity of hopes which are for this life alone."

But in our age, a new theology of hope may be emerging in Christian theological thought which should be of interest to us. The new theology of hope seems to be a consequence of the "Death of God" theology which, like a wave, rolled and has now somewhat receded in avant-garde Christian circles.

The death of God theology has various expressions and its advocates differ somewhat from each other in their interpretations. But generally, [because of] the displacement of values from the sacred to the secular world, the philosophy of existentialism which proposed that the only assurance we have is our present existence with no authentic basis for any supposed purpose, individually or corporate in the universe, the problem of how to discover any goodness in God when the problem of human suffering has been so vast and unexplainable, in the face of assigning positive meaning to the word "God," some Christian thinkers proclaimed that God was dead.

The theology of hope seems to be accumulating some force as another wave. The movement originated in Europe among some young theologians both Catholic and Protestant. Although there are variations in the thinking, generally they hold that God is one who does not exist but is coming to man, God is not yet, but is to be. One cannot speak of God existing in an age when evil is so widespread and when the world is known in scientific and technological ways rather than in religious terms.

Think how much kinship there is in holding that god is "He who is to be" with Shaw’s statement that "there will never be a God unless we make him."

Central to this theology of hope is the geography of hope. Man is to be redeemed in this world, not another world. More than that, it is a religious task to change the world, not just to interpret it.

Now whether this new theology of hope will be more than a discussion among theologians remains to be seen. Many times so-called advanced thinking does not seem to reach the millions who sit in pews. I am not concerned today with talking again about the causes for belief or disbelief in God. My feelings and thoughts that lead me to affirm the creative process in the Universe are not dependent on any variety of Christian dogmatics.

But in such a time as this, do we have grounds for hope in the human venture? Although there may be a glimmer of light in the murky shadows of the Vietnam War, the process of peace negotiations will be neither brief nor easy, but prolonged and difficult. The renewal of fierce hostilities and re-escalation of bombing is undoubtedly geared to a hair-trigger sensitivity. Not only devious intentions but human blunders on either or both sides could again escalate the war, perhaps hopelessly.

The cities seethed in blood and fire as some persons in the ghettos struck back in anger at the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Is there any hope that the U.S. can be redeemed from racial conflict which not only will be fatal to our cities but also kill our dreams?

Yet there is hope, and the geographical charts of hope are maps of this world. Hope is more than yearning for what is not. Hope is desire for what is not yet real, accompanied by the expectation that one day hope can be fulfilled. Hope is belief that goals can be achieved. Hope is conviction that though the goal may shine afar, it can be reached by following maps in this world, not in some other-worldly heaven entirely dependent upon a Christ crucified, risen, and coming again.

The obstacles are formidable. No one conscious of our world in disarray, our nation in torment, can assume an air of easy optimism. The events of the past 10 days are grim confirmations of the findings of the President's Commission on Civil Disorders, which is seemingly ignored by most persons who have the political power or influence to initiate the massive, immediate steps to begin to put an end to the underlying causes – despair, defeat, indignity, discrimination, injustice.

Any hopes must be conditioned by an awareness of the reality of violence at home and abroad. But also hopes may be buttressed by the knowledge that most unrest is caused by the "revolution of rising expectations." Our world has a potential of abundance never before possible for the human family. Even more than the potential abundance of food and fiber for all is the potential for individual fulfillment through the freedom to chart one’s way. In spite of the constraints of modern mass culture, the prospect for such individual power can be glimpsed not only by the favored and affluent few, but also by the unfavored and poor.

So there is hope. There can always be hope – and I remind you of James Thurber’s exquisite parable which you heard, The Last Flower.

Now many Unitarians and Universalists may yawn when they hear of the theology of hope in Christian thought. "We’ve always had maps of this world, we’ve never had an other-worldly slant," – this would be generally agreed. Universalist theology, in its early days at least, had an other-worldly direction. All souls would be saved. But more than 100 years ago, Universalist churches organized reform societies within their churches, and Unitarian salvation has always been concerned with character and progress on this earth.

Our Service Committees have been concerned not with missionary conversions but human need without reference to whatever religious belief's those in need may hold. We asserted the goodness or the potential growth towards goodness of every human being.

These characteristics of our Unitarian Universalist heritage are not recited complacently. We fall short of our pronouncements. This heritage of ours is a most difficult goal to live up to. We are not immune from inertia. We are not exempt from the stymie caused by strong differences about how our beliefs in character, reform, progress, should be applied.

There are grounds for hope in the human venture. It is idle to speculate the degree of significant involvement we will have individually or as a group in the promotion of the social changes which must occur if disaster is to be prevented. The great scriptures of mankind were not written to inspire men to courageous, creative acts which would help the human venture. Rather, the courageous, creative acts of persons were the inspiration for great scripture.

So it will be with old and new teachings of hope for the people of the world. Amid the troubles of the past week when people died in the cities, I remembered the story told by Sam Levenson, the stand-up comedian whose humor sometimes reflects serious social thought. It's a parable – or a fantasy – but I believe it to be poetic expression of hope for the human family.

The story has the setting of Heaven. At the gate there appears a young Black boy, beaten unto death in the city. And as Sam Levenson tells it, Heaven has a computerized system to provide St. Peter at the gate with the names and I.D. numbers of all persons who are expected to enter the Gates of Heaven each day. But there are no admission credentials for this Black boy. His name is not on the list. So the gatekeeper phones the next higher level of administration in the bureaucracy of heaven. But no record seems to exist for this boy's admission. So Peter phones various levels of policy. No information. Finally the gatekeeper phones the top – the Lord himself, [and] tells the story of the fatally beaten Black boy who is at the gate. The voice thunders to Peter, "Send him back to Earth – he’ll recover in the hospital. He's not due here for years and years – not until after he has found that cure for cancer."

So amid all the frailties of our existence the inadequacies of our performance of what we ought to be doing and the weaknesses of our will, there are grounds for hope if we accept the obligation to add our weight to the scales of justice and our expectations are undespairing that new creations and renewed life can come to the human family as well as to the ever-renewing Earth.