The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness—
on them light has shined.
~Isaiah 9:2 (NRSV)
Over the last few weeks, as November gave way to December, I noticed that the phrase, “let’s circle back to that after the holidays,” has been invoked with greater and greater frequency in my work email, Teams calls, and in-person conversations with colleagues. The closer we get to Christmas and the New Year, the more we find ourselves needing to push off fresh ideas and new projects to a time after all our joyful celebrating. Indeed, the closer we get to the holidays themselves, the fuzzier my sense of time is becoming. In the week in which I’m writing this blog post, Tuesday felt like Friday, and Thursday has somehow had 36 hours in it. Is time speeding up or slowing down? I don’t know!
It is fascinating to me that one of the primary ways we seek to buttress ourselves from the frantic pace of the holiday season is to throw up our hands and punt stuff to a time in the not-too-distant future that will, no doubt, be fraught with its own pressing needs and calendar conflicts. The stakes of having a “perfect Christmas” seem to be raised every year. The ever-higher pitch and louder volume of this time of year often masks a truly deep despair and sorrow. For some, the holidays can be truly challenging to enjoy—especially if it’s the first Christmas after the experience of a trauma, such as the ending of a relationship, the loss of a job, or the death of a loved one.
Back during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, I learned a new word: respair. It’s a bit of an archaic word, having been coined in the 15th century, but it means “the return of hope after a long period of despair.” As a verb, respair means “to have hope again.” Respair is not merely the opposite of despair, but rather it is what is on the other side of despair. The word acknowledges the hard truth that we can lose hope while still trusting that our hope can and will be restored. I cannot think of a more perfect word for the season of Advent that leads to our celebration. After all, Advent is a season about renewing our hope amid a despairing world. Even as we lament our sin and the suffering that springs from it, we are inspired by the possibility of a restored soul, a restored world, and a restored hope. What restores our hope after a time of despair is that God does not keep us or our suffering at arm’s length but enters our world and into our lives to draw us to himself.
Saint Francis Ministries was founded in 1945 as the whole world was coming out of a period of deep darkness and profound violence. What motivated Fr. Bob Mize, our founder, to make an impact in the lives of those who might have easily given in to despair was nothing other than the conviction that hope is never truly lost. Hope might sometimes feel too far off, but it is there, and it can once again find us.
For 80 years, SFM has been an example of respair, of the return of hope. We who follow in Fr. Bob’s footsteps help make that evident every day in our work with the children, families, and IDD adults in our care.
Surely, it is a good thing to clear a little space in our lives so we can appreciate time with loved ones, offer service to those in need, and renew our joy at the wonder of what God has done in the mystery of the Incarnation. Yes, we will circle back to all the conversations, emails, and projects awaiting our attention next year. For now, though, let us travel the arc of our purpose renewed, our sense of the preciousness of our time together restored, and our hearts refreshed with a new and durable hope.
And let us respair!
On behalf of all of us at Saint Francis Ministries, I wish you a blessed and happy Christmas filled with hope and healing!
