Hope Is a Verb
In the last few years, I’ve noticed how easy the word hope rolls off my tongue. As in, “I hope you have a nice day!” or “I hope the weather will cooperate today.” “I hope I can take a vacation to Arches National Park.” “I hope the Vikings win the Superbowl.” (yeah, right!)
The word hope has been hijacked, at least in the English language. We seem to equate it with “wish” most of the time. I’ve been trying to detangle these two terms in my own everyday chatter, and it isn’t easy. It’s easier when I’m texting or typing—I can go back and correct my mistake. But when it rolls off my tongue, there’s nothing to do but take note and try again next time. Most recently, I was at the grocery store that’s walking distance from my house (shout out to Kowalskis on Grand Avenue in St. Paul MN!). Walking or riding my bike there is a self-care act, giving me time to slow down, breathe deeply, and enjoy the city neighborhood. It always improves my mood. Plus, this particular grocery store is a really pleasant place to shop. They take care and pride not only in their goods but also in their employees, who are always helpful, kind, and attentive, and in their customers. So, on this particular day, when the cashier was clearly out of sorts—they practically threw the avocados at the person bagging my groceries as they talked crabbily to the bagger and me—my parting words were (attempting to be kind), “I hope you have a better day.”
The thing is, I can’t do anything about her day. Nor can I do anything about the weather, and I certainly can’t do anything about the Vikings! I can do something about that vacation. That was the only correct use of the word hope of all the examples given above.
Sometimes, hope is used as a synonym for “trust,” as in, “Your job is going well, I hope?” And, there is a certain amount of trust in the concept of hope. Hope is often used as a noun, as in “I am full of hope.” Dictionaries indicate that both these ways of using the word are valid.
What does all this matter, anyway? The danger, I think, is that hope has become passive, like a wish. Greta Thunburg, climate change activist, has been quoted as saying, “I don’t want your hope. I want your anger!” I presume in her mind, hope is a passive wish that no one will do anything about. I can understand, if that’s what hope is in her mind, that she’d rather have anger!
So let’s reclaim hope for what it is. C.R. Snyder, a positive psychologist who developed hope theory, says that hopeful thinking is made up of goals (setting sights on something), pathways (seeing realistic steps toward that goal), and agency (believing you can take the steps). All three ingredients are needed for true hope to be present. Take away agency or pathway thinking and you’re left with a wish.
Howard Thurman says, “A dream is the bearer of a new possibility, the enlarged horizon, the great hope.” Hope requires a vision for the future. What positive vision do you have for the future (the goal)? Can you name three realistic baby steps that can be taken toward that goal (the pathway)? What exact steps can you take (the agency)? When used this way, hope propels movement. And if we all take three or 3000 baby steps toward a better future, change WILL happen!
Last week, my colleague Mark wrote about hope and offered a couple situations he was in recently. Here’s one of them…
Six “high-potential under-45 spiritual leaders” from around the country gathered at the conference table, and LeaderWise was to facilitate a conversation about resilience in ministry. Looking around the room, it was evident that this downtown church, which had generously donated its space, was thriving. The tone of the conversation, though, contrasted sharply with our surroundings. Rather than a feeling of wealth and unlimited resources, there was a sense of scarcity. As the group opened up, they shared their worries and anxieties about the future of the institutional church and, by extension, their future. One person questioned his decision to enter ministry as he struggled to provide for his family. Another individual wondered how she would have enough money to send her children to college. Several weighed the challenges of their current ministry settings versus the reality of a diminishing pool of other full-time openings. Their commitment to ministry was evident, as was their commitment to providing for their families. A feeling of overwhelm hung in the room.
I bet you remember a time when you were in a similar setting. (Truthfully, this one is not that uncommon unfortunately.) As the leader, what might you do? First and foremost, slow it down—take some deep breaths or do some centering with the group. Then, thinking about goals, ask the group (or each individual) to come up with a goal: What’s just one vision they have for the future? And, now employ pathway thinking: Can you see a path toward that goal? And agency thinking: What are some simple steps we as a group (or as individuals) can take toward that goal, recognizing that we can’t make it all the way there, at least not initially, but we can start. And here’s the thing about taking action. Sometimes the hardest step is the first one. AND when we see others taking a step, we will be more encouraged to also move forward. In that way, hope is contagious. So next time you’re in a group that is leaning into despair, try moving them toward hope instead.
And now I ask: Where in your daily ministry can you lean into hope?
Sure, hope may be a noun; it is definitely NOT a wish; and most importantly, it’s a verb!
