Active Hope

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I write this introduction to this issue of spiritus during the days surrounding the inauguration of the 45^th president of the United States which in itself is inaugurating global questions, concerns, anxiety, distress. An introduction to a new issue of Spiritus is not an editorial forum. With this introduction however we do try to point out the curious intersection (synchronicity?) between the articles in this issue of Spiritus and our current political, cultural, racial, polarized, uncertain and, for many, fearful climate. It is not so much that the articles echo this uncertainty and fear as that they seem to respond to it with integrity and hope. The scholarly articles, informative book reviews, imaginative photographs, and creative poetry together offer preliminary, hopeful responses to what appears to be an otherwise evaporating respect toward others and disinclination toward integrity. The material in this issue recalculates and admonishes reverence, kindness, and listening as imperative spiritual practices in the context of what appear to be increasingly dangerous times. In dangerous, conflictual, and dispirited times, spiritual practice needs to be tough, it needs–in various ways–justice. It is, at times, a form of resistance. That is why I suggest the practice of "active hope." This practice is grounded in love and supported in faith. It is dynamic and vibrant hope that acts.. It is hope directed toward justice and it is justice fulfilled in hope.

None of the articles in this issue write explicitly about our current political climate. But in the context of our political climate they are all works necessarily rooted in new or newly committed hermeneutics of respect, integrity, reverence, kindness, and imaginative ethical and spiritual practice. One article suggests seeing refugees, prisoners, the hungry, and the broken through the eyes of a loving God. Another actually tells of the story of the transformative effect of Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises for maximum security prisoners in Sweden who have followed the thirty-day retreat. Two other articles, in different ways, tell us of conversations and shared ritual between Muslims and Christians that are born not from fear but rather from mutual respect and genuine intentions to communicate and understand. Still another article writes of popular devotion and spirituality. It is impossible not to read this latter article without thinking of a proposed new "wall" which would keep the richness and diversity of these peoples of creative popular devotion out. Together, the articles activate hope.

Late this past New Year's Eve I was flying home to San Antonio. As we approached the city we had our own perfect seats to a fireworks display that was detonating all around the city. Through every window of the plane it was possible to see, far below, people in the city setting off fireworks. And these were no single firework display: one could look out any window for a brief time and see three, four, five, and more displays of fiery color shaping themselves into spheres, balls, rocket trails, dragons, and random designs. Across the aisle from me a small boy was jumping up and down with excitement, completely captivated by the show. At one excited point, he turned to his father and yelled with glee, "they look like exploding birds!" And the flying streaks, feathered colors, avian flight shapes, and the quick disappearance in a star of light, did look very much like "exploding birds."

Today, around the globe, we are beginning to find ourselves living in climates of distrust and fear. Fear can explode like fireworks or even like exploding birds. But it is not celebration, it is not excitement of the kind experienced by the young boy, it is not a treat for the senses. Fear explodes like hatred, like anger, like the cession of listening, like attack, like persecution; fear explodes like the very opposite of the intentions of every article, poem, book review, or image in this issue.

So what is my longed-for intention for these next few years? Hope, certainly. Ready response to desperate, out-reached reached hands with hands open, receptive, and giving. Open eyes of compassion to eyes of privation. A new practice of listening more...