Far From a Silent Night

In 1966, Simon and Garfunkel produced a controversial rendition of Silent Night, dubbed over with the 7 o clock news. The news was of drug overdoses, murder, war and human rights inequalities. Just before Christmas, I heard an updated version of the song, containing the news from 2016. It was not easy to listen to.

It’s no secret that 2016 has been a difficult year for many; I’m not the first to say it. But hearing all those snippets, one after the other…each of them felt like a blow, a nail being hammered into peace and joy. The war in Syria with failed evacuations of Aleppo, the humanitarian crisis in Yemen, terror attacks in Paris and Nice and Brussels with threats of more, the deaths of thousands attempting to cross the Mediterranean in hope of a better future. Blow after blow.

There have been good things in 2016, great things, but there have also been many, many atrocities, much to make us stop and say, “this is not ok”. So much of the story of this year reads like a tragic tale of unimaginable proportions.

I’ve been thinking about what we do with all of this - all the tragedy, the horror stories, the statistics that don’t even seem possible. These things are happening in our world, in the place we live in, to people whose humanity makes them just like you and me. And because of that, I don’t think the answer can ever be to turn off the news. Ignoring it, wrapping ourselves in the comforts around us, will never change anything, but how do we let ourselves think about it without succumbing to fear, despair and devastation? How can we live in a place of peace and joy while still letting ourselves be affected by the pain in the world?

The answer has to be hope, even though hope is difficult. It’s difficult to hope when there doesn’t seem to be an end, when we can’t even imagine how anything could get any better. It feels like every day, we hear about a new war, a new attack, a new threat. It feels like it’s getting worse, not better. How can we hope when it feels like there will never be an end?

What I’ve learned is that hope is not the same thing as optimism. Hope is more than having a positive attitude when things go wrong. Hope is a conviction deeply rooted in a desire for change and the expectation that change will come. And I see hope, because I see that there are people working for change. There are people putting their lives on the line for it. There are people who will not stop, will not give up. People who explore new solutions, who campaign for justice, who give generously, who welcome strangers, who aren’t prepared to settle for a world of violence and fear. I have the privilege of knowing some of those people.I would like to think I’m at least trying to become one of those people. So, maybe this is a challenge for 2017: If you don’t know those people, why not become one of those people? Why not become the one seeking justice, striving for peace, giving generously, coming up with new ideas? Why don’t you become the one giving the people around you a reason to hope?