Jeremiah 29:10-14
Romans 5:1-5

To the list that includes New Orleans and Sri Lanka and Myanmar and China, we now add Parkersburg, Iowa. The photos and videos show a devastated landscape. It’s the result of what the insurance companies call an "act of God"—but would anyone here agree with such a label? Once again our hearts go out to victims of nature’s destructive power—this time much closer to home.
And once again we see the power of hope that strengthens the human spirit even in the most difficult of circumstances. Last week Amanda Timmer said she and her husband would rebuild. "We will never leave Parkersburg," she said. "People were here in seconds, digging people out."
What do we do when the storms of life hit us hard? How do we get through times of serious illness, strife, or the destruction of relationships? How do we keep going in a world mired in war and terror, economic upheaval, and often rampant injustice?
Scripture points us toward the option of hope—an attitude that dares both to look forward with a positive perspective and to act accordingly.
Back in the ‘70’s Gordon Lightfoot had a song that was depressingly titled: "It’s Too Late for Praying." Some thirty-five years later, our judgment on that pessimistic message might be, "Maybe not." Hope is the attitude that "It’s earlier than we think," to borrow the phrase that the 20 th century computer pioneer Vannever Bush coined when he was 77.
I like that. It’s earlier than we think.
There’s still time.
There is still time for the world to exhibit more of God’s desire for abundance and life for
all creation.
There is still time for our individual lives to reflect something of the image of Christ.
There is still time for this congregation to show the love of God to a hurting world.
Remember the ancient Jewish people in exile in Babylon—their homes destroyed, their country overrun. They were carried to a distant land with foreign gods. How were they to live under such circumstances?
The prophet Jeremiah told them to plant gardens and eat what they produced; to marry and have children; to seek the welfare of the city in which they found themselves.
That is, they were to live as though they had a future.
They were to live with hope.
In all the storms and turmoil, hope is always a possibility for our lives.
Hope begins in the present.
Hope sets our sights on the future.
Hope reminds us of the power beyond ourselves.
When developing hope in our lives, we begin in the present.
Hope asks the question: "What kind of future are you building for yourself?" 1 In other words, hope is not about positive thinking or wishing hard that something might happen. Hope asks about what we are doing .
In difficult times we ask a lot of questions. Kennon Callahan has a list of what he calls the "four worst best questions." These questions are:

What are my problems?
What are my needs?
What are my concerns?
What are my weaknesses and shortcomings?

Start by asking these questions, he says, and you’ll end with a bountiful harvest of despair, depression, and despondency. 2
When looking for a way through those times and events that weigh you down, I invite you to start instead with your strengths, with what you have, with your opportunities. In difficult times, these are the things you most need to know. With them in mind you can ask the question of hope: "Where am I headed?"
Ask any exile—"Back to Jerusalem."
Ask the residents of Parkersburg—Home. Last week Stacy Edeker stood where her house used to be and said: "We will rebuild. We will come back."
Hope has a destination, an end result toward which we builds. Your hope might be for health, or for rebuilding or reconciliation. Your hope might be for a more prosperous life for yourself or a more just life for others.
What kind of future are you building? What action can you take—today—to bring you closer to your desire?
What garden are you planting?
"Hope does not disappoint us," Paul writes. He doesn’t say: "Our hopes are not disappointed." He knows, as you know, that they can be and often are. He is not recommending a smiley face approach that says: "Don’t worry, be happy." Genuine hope, even if it is crushed, does not disappoint, however, because it is grows from the conviction that we have what we need—that we are at all times held in the love of God. 3
We are invited to live in hope—to live with the conviction that there is a future to build; with the conviction that we are going somewhere.
Hope begins in the present.
Hope sets our sights on the future.
When the present is filled with shadows, we look into the distance.
Rabbi Edwin Friedman tells the story of a man who had a rare form of cancer and needed surgery. The survival rate for the surgery was twenty percent. The patient said that he wanted to be part of the twenty percent. He proceeded with the surgery without prior consultation with family or friends. He was back at work in a month.
Friedman asked the man if he had ever heard about the USS Cruiser Indianapolis . He hadn’t. Maybe you have. After delivering the atom bomb, the cruiser sank in the Pacific. Suddenly struck by enemy fire, the ship went under, sending 800 sailors into the ocean. Before long, sharks encircled them. Every so often a sailor would swim toward the sharks and give himself up.
How, Friedman asked, could the man explain why some survived. "Those guys who swam away," the man replied, "They didn’t have a future." 4
When the waves and the sharks are fierce, hope gives us a horizon on which to set our sights. When we seem to have nothing at all, hope gives us the future with its limitless possibilities and opportunities. Hope is the bird, the saying goes, hope is the bird that feels the light and sings while the dawn is still dark.
Hope sets our sights on the future.
Hope reminds us of the power beyond ourselves.
Arlo Guthrie talked about this in Studs Terkel’s book, Hope Dies Last . This graying sixties icon said: "The older I get, the more I realize that most of the people I know are already dead. My dad, my mom, my grandparents, my great-grandparents, even some siblings are gone now. And most of my friends.
"My great hope," Guthrie says, "is that this isn’t it ."
"When we live life at our best, we are Easter people. We know our hope is not only in what we are building or what the future might bring. Our hope is in God."
Because we have this hope, all the great and noble things that we would dare to do are worth doing. What we do today and in this life—pursuing our sense of mission, showing compassion, developing a healthy community of faith, acting with courage in the face of fear—what we do today and in this life matters and matters eternally. Resurrection tells us that what we do to the glory of God is important both now and into the future.
When hope arises in the midst of tragedy, there we see what is truly an act of God.
Hope begins in the present.
Hope sets our sights on future.
Hope reminds us of the power beyond ourselves.
We can choose to be people of hope and begin today to build the future that we want—a future of love and respect, a future that seeks to make God’s love real in the world, a future of abundance and generosity, a future of joy. We can follow the advice of the prophet and plant gardens. We can follow the advice of the prophet and pray for the welfare of this city. We can gather up our strengths, our resources, and our opportunities and move toward the future God desires for us.
It’s earlier than we think.
We can still build lives of hope.
We can still build a congregation of hope.
And hope does not disappoint.