12/2/18 “Unfinished Hope” by Nancy Petty
Text: Jeremiah 33:14-16
Luke 21:25-36
I’m holding in my hand the ring my father gave my mother when they married. It is not in its original setting. At some point, for reasons I don’t know, my mother had the diamond reset in its current setting. While it is a beautiful and sufficient wedding ring, somewhere along the way my father gave my mother another diamond ring. The one she still wears today. Again, I don’t know the reason—whether it was for an anniversary or because he had bought yet another bird dog and hunting gun without telling her. Regardless of the reason, my mother was now in possession of two diamond rings.
When I was in middle school and my sister in high school my mother announced that she intended to give her original engagement ring to whichever of us graduated from college first. Clearly, the ring was intended for my sister. Not only was she the eldest of my parents two children, but she was also the one who liked such things as diamond rings. I, on the other hand, as the basketball-obsessed, softball playing, motorcycling riding tomboy had no interest in rings, especially fancy diamond rings. But guess what? Yep, you guessed it. After a year of nursing school at Gardner-Webb, my sister dropped out of college. The following year I would begin my college experience at the same college and four years later I would become the first college graduate in my family. And on my graduation day, I was given possession of that diamond ring my father gave my mother when they married.
It is a common tradition for families to pass down keepsakes from generation to generation. One of my most treasured keepsakes passed down to me is this magnifying glass that was my grandfather’s. It sat on his desk and he would use it when fiddling with his watches. As a child, I had great interest in his bucket of watches that he would work on as well as this magnifying glass he would use to examine the tiny parts of those watches. When my grandfather died my father took possession of the magnifying glass and I took possession of the bucket of watches. A number of years ago, my dad asked if I would like to have the magnifying glass. It now sits on my desk in my office here at the church. Every day I look at it and I think of my grandfather and that tin bucket of watches and I remember all the things he told me about watches as he would tinker with them, looking at their tiny parts through the magnifying glass in the leather pouch.
I would imagine, that if I asked many of you would have in your possession something that was passed down to you from your parents or grandparents or great-grandparents or some other family member. I often think about what I will pass on to my children. Will it be the diamond ring or the magnifying glass passed down to me? Or something else?
This week I wondered about why this tradition exists in many families: this passing on/bequeathing of things from one generation to the next. Is it about the possession of the thing? Possibly. Is it about holding onto memories? Probably. But I am wondering if underneath it all is the passing on of unfinished hopes. Let me say that another way. Every generation holds new hopes for the next generation. My great-grandparents had hope that their children, my grandparents, would have a better life than theirs. My grandparents worked hard and sacrificed much through the depression years in hopes that my parents would have a better life than they had. And I am sure that my parents had hopes for my sister and me that they didn’t have for themselves. My guess is that is why I ended up with a diamond ring. My mother’s parents didn’t have the resources to send my mother to college. That ring carried a hope. My grandfather ran a country store but that magnifying glass that he used to study those old watches possibly represents an unspoken hope that he carried of being a watchmaker. And now that magnifying glass sits on my desk reminding me that from generation to generation we pass on our unfinished hopes. Every generation is the holder of hope for the next. And every generation passes on unfinished hopes to the next generation. The unfinished hope of one generation is the fuel that feeds the fire for the hopes of the next generation.
Rosa Parks refusing to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery represented an unfinished hope passed on to her by her ancestors. Unfinished hope is why Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison. Unfinished hope is why Martin Luther King was preparing to lead A Poor People’s Campaign when he was shot and killed. Unfinished hope is why Holocaust survivors endured unimaginable cruelty and deprivation, well beyond the will to live for just oneself. Unfinished hope is why Harvey Milk and Matthew Shepard chose to live out and free, no matter the cost. Unfinished hope is deep in us, part of the unfolding of who we are at our basic core when we risk exposing our truest selves. As one person said in lectionary group this week, “I’ve never not hoped. It is just something you do.”
“The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David…” These words of the prophet Jeremiah speak of an unfinished hope. Surely the days are coming, the prophet proclaims, when the promise will be fulfilled. In those days, at that time, the prophet announces, hope will spring up. You see, our faith is a story of unfinished hope springing up in the most unexpected places, in the most unexpected ways, and in the most surprising people—like a baby—as we pass it on from one generation to the next.
Unfinished hope doesn’t mean that there is not fulfilled hope along the way. Unfinished hope simply means that hope is always in process, springing up in unexpected places at unexpected times in unexpected ways. Unfinished hope means that we have more work to do so that others may hope. Unfinished hope is the spark of the divine purpose that we hold and nurture and carry and are called to bring forth. It is what drives us to participate in the co-creation of this world and of the kingdom of God. Unfinished hope, is at its deepest level, our own knowing of the sacred part we are to play in the evolution of creation and the continuation of the God made flesh. Unfinished hope is our knowing that our hope, our sacred part, is not isolated, it is not even personal – it is always part of a lineage of hope.
Our gospel lesson on this first Sunday of Advent offers a parable about a fig tree. Jesus says, “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God [the kingdom of hope] is near.”
As we think about hope, I am wondering where you see unfinished hope taking place that might represent the kingdom of God coming closer to us? What signs of hope do you see taking place in our world? In your life? And what unfinished hope are you longing to fulfill for the next generation?
For me, unfinished hope looks like people of faith showing up at the border to support a caravan of refugees seeking safety. Unfinished hope looks like the most diverse Congress in American history set to take leadership in 2019, with a record number of women and people of color. I see signs of an unfinished hope in the continuation of a Poor People’s Campaign. I see signs of an unfinished hope as I listen in on church meetings where a group of lay people are discussing how to make their church a zero waste church. I see signs of hope as Jewish, Christian, and Muslims come together to worship and break bread together. I see signs of unfinished hope as I look into our chapel and see a small group of people sitting in a wisdom circle meditating. I see signs of unfinished hope almost everywhere I look: people bringing juice boxes and Vienna sausages and crackers to share with those who are hungry; people giving their time weekly to prepare and serve a hot meal to those who are food and housing insecure and to not just serve them food but to sit and listen to their worries and struggles; neighbors looking after one another in times of grief; young children making music and singing about loving one another; and youth creating a welcoming and safe space where each individual can be free to be themselves.
This is the season when we anticipate the birth of an unfinished hope. It is a time to consider where you are seeing signs of such hope? It is a time to contemplate what unfinished hope are you working on for the next generation? The hope that we anticipate being born in the coming days was a fulfillment of an unfinished hope. And, that fulfillment continues today. Our faith is a faith of unfinished hope. The ring my mother gave me was about her children going to college, and our children having access to choices she didn’t have. The magnifying glass of my grandfather wasn’t just about watches, but about a curiosity of how things work and how to fix them, how to be part of the maintenance of a mechanical magic. This season isn’t just about the baby Jesus. It isn’t just about the rabbi Jesus he will become or the resurrected Jesus. This season is about the prophet who stood on the shoulders of the prophets before him, and who calls to the unfinished hope in the prophet in us. Our faith is a faith that needs us to fulfill in these days the promise of hope. And our faith is counting on us to pass on that unfinished hope to the next generation. What hope keepsake will you, will we, pass on to the next generation?
