The Gates of Hope
by Victoria Safford
Whatever our vocation, we stand, beckoning and calling, singing and shouting, at the gates of Hope. This world and our people are beautiful, and we are called to raise that up--to bear witness to the possibility of living with the dignity, bravery, and gladness that beWts a human being. This may be what it is to "live our mission."
Matthew Fox writes of "the small work in the Great Work," the place in your little life and love, daily days and earnest effort as a solitary person within the larger Life and larger Love that some call Holy, some call God, some call History, and others call simply larger than themselves. Like everybody else, we are doing small work within the Great Work of creation, and thus do we aid it and abet it in unfolding.
Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope--not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower; not the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense; not the strident gates of Self-Righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges (people cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through); not the cheerful, Ximsy garden gates of "Everything is gonna be all right." But a diVerent, sometimes lonely place, the place of truth-telling, about our own soul Wrst of all and its condition, the place of resistance and deWance, the piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be, as it will be; the place from which you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle. And we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing, asking people what they see.