Well, here we are at the end of yet another year. On the cusp of 2025 many of us share hope that the next year will be different. Spoiler alert: it won’t be. I’ve seen nearly 70 of these calendar pages turned. Nothing really changes. Except that I’ll forget the year on checks for a while. That’s why I use auto-pay a lot! So many people focus on what’s to come. And, too few of us truly reflect on what was. I think that’s a mistake. There is much that we have all accomplished that should be held high and celebrated. There are also those things that we would rather not been done.
Such is the way of it.
By “it” I mean the human condition. This is something that I’ve reflected on a great deal this past year. It is the true equalizer in the world. No one is beyond its influence. I even grasped that Jesus, the son of Joseph, was not above it. The only difference that I can see between Him and everyone else is that He chose to enter into it. But, that’s a story for another day.
This condition is universal in scope, yet appears differently to different cultures and classes. By definition, though we are all subject to it. I see this condition as one of misery, desertion, poverty, and anxiety. I think for many, 2024 taught us that. While we may live in our nice homes with all of the food and comforts that we desire, we still by our insurances and stock up ‘just in case.’
The year now winding down to its conclusion caused no shortage of anxiety. Not only in the U.S., but all around the world political and economic uncertainty has made us wary, not only of those who are different from us in race or culture, but of our own families and friends. These are the characteristics of the “human condition.” Not the outward appearance of well-being. That’s at best cosmetic. No, this condition is internal. It’s what we are born into. The evolutionists may say that this is simply a vestigial holdover from an earlier age when survival made suspicion and distrust necessary. Maybe. Only to me it seems that we as a species are more suspicious than ever. Of course, I have no way to prove that. It’s just my gut saying it.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting old and cynical. Perhaps that’s part of the human condition, too. We see the reality of living. We are witness to suffering of other humans in war and poverty. Every. Single. Day. Fear is used as a tool to achieve wealth and power. Fear, that universal scourge that infects every living thing. Fight or flight. “Stay away from me and my stuff!” It’s no wonder that we crawl into our homes and view the world from the supposed safety of our various devices. Well, except those who can’t afford either a home or devices.
Such is our lot as we trek and toil toward…what?
A new year?
New hope?
New resolutions?
But, as David Byrne and the Talking Heads sang, “Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.”
Qoheleth, the Teacher, who wrote the Biblical book Ecclesiastes saw this over 2,000 years ago. He wrote, “Vanity! All is vanity…What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done;
there is nothing new under the sun.”
Does this mean that I must remain in a cynical, hopeless life?
No, of course not. There’s always hope. It’s just not in politics or the economy or how good our insurance is. I think that any hope that we might find is in that which we distrust.
Each other.
Community is where we came from. Our earliest ancestors learned that as they began to walk and live in a hostile world. They needed each other then. Just as we do now. To hide in our ‘safe’ homes is an illusion. We can never hide from ourselves or our fears. Together, however, we might just learn to trust and walk in the light.
Much, (all?), of what I’m thinking in this regard comes directly from my study of the Bible and the community of faith that I’m part of. Most, however, has been discerned as I sit quietly with God. I think that this quietness is the beginning of community. After all, God exists in community; Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. But, then, I believe in stuff that most of the world doesn’t.
While I have no trust in the ways and systems of this world, I do have a fleeting hope in humanity to see outside of itself. To grasp the truth of our need to trust, not only one another, but the earth and all that it contains. We are all floating around on the wet ball. If we can’t learn to trust to this reality and the God Who lives here with us,
Who can we trust?
