Expectation and Hope: Aka How God ruined the Church Picnic

 

We all have our favorite writers. Mine is a man by the name of Gerald May. He is not an easy read – more like a rich fudge filled with caramel, nuts, chips, and all things gooie. Little bites to savor – too much you get a tummy ache. But oh those bites – so filled with deep truths and spiritual insights. The man was brilliant. He was a Psychiatrist and an Addictionologist, Author, Poet, Theologian of the Contemplative nature and was Director of the Shalem Institute in Washington DC before he passed. His foot notes alone were good reads… Now, that’s talent.

 One chapter in his book The Awakened Heart was titled ‘Expectation vs Hope’. Coming across it was serendipitous as my life was pretty devoid of hope at the moment. I felt as if everything I touched turned into a Lime Slushy with way too much green syrup. I desperately needed some help cleaning up the mess.

Growing up as Pollyanna I had unknowing put myself into far too many painful situations than I needed to. Reading this chapter in May’s book gave me a giant “AH HA” moment as I came to see that many of my heartbreaks were because I did not know the difference between Hope and Expectation.

 Allow me explain. May writes; ’The difference between the two:  Hope is wishing for something to happen while Expectation is assuming it is going to happen. Expectations can be useful when they are based on fact.  We rely on basic facts – the sun will rise in the morning -- sort of thing.  This is an expectation.  Trouble brews when we have our eyes set on false expectations, i.e. because the sun rose this morning it will be warm and pleasant all day.

 Oye. I was good on the ‘assuming part’ most of my life and came to see that it was the cause of much unneeded heartbreaks. Case in point -  The annual church picnic.

 As a child I saw that was the day all good things happened at our church - and thus my life.  Our church Elders rented out ½ the Forrest Preserve - it was a mammoth size church – and all the elders set up tables, grilled Brats and burgers, being good German Lutherans we could even serve beer.  There were cake walks from the ladies fresh baked goodies that most kind souls shared after they won. I knew where to position myself – my mother never made a decadent anything, so these cakes were meaningful… Then there were ‘Tug of Wars’ for all ages and scavenger hunts. My favorites were carnival games with kids booths to earn tickets for ice cream cones and trinkets. Those magic tickets could be turned in for the coolest little toys -  the kind your parents would never buy you. I lived for the church picnic.

 One year crisis struck.  On the Friday before the picnic I overheard Daddy, who just happened to be the head pastor and thus God’s best friend, tell someone on the phone that there was 100% chance of rain on Sunday and they would probably have to cancel the picnic.

 CANCEL The PICNIC?  God would never let that happen! Daddy talk to him!!!  My father tried to talk me off the roof for a good hour – emotional speaking of course -  promising me he would not make a decision until Early Sunday Morning.  I was on my knees every hour reminding God how important the picnic was to world peace expecting he would answer me with a break in the rain, sunshine and rainbow for the inconvenience.

 As the hours went on the forecast got even more grim – thunderstorms with the chance of hail. Why was God doing this to me???  Ok, What about the next Sunday? We could have it then – right???  I mean if God was so mean as to let my picnic get rained out we could outsmart him – just move the date and I would survive. Unfortunately, the Forest Preserve was not available but daddy was sure they would set things up in the cafeteria and parking lot – minus the beer of course.

 No No that would not do…  It just would not be the same.  I could not stalk the boys in the church cafeteria. My mind was made up. I wouldn’t sing the hymns in church on Sunday I was so disappointed in God. My expectations were dashed, and I spent all rainy-day Sunday in my room.

Getting back to Gerald May here: When our expectations are not met, we are crushed.  Why?  We held steadfast to the fact that what we want to happen must happen for us to be happy.  

Expectations are brittle and when they collapse, so do we, in heart-wrenching pain. This is when people often blame God for not being true to His promises.  They have unknowingly told Him how their problems will be solved and reject Him when it doesn’t happen according to their script.  Those with faith then forgive God and go on to write another script of expectations mislabel as Hope.  The cycle continues until depression and desperation sets it.

 But Hope, real Hope, is soft and willing to suffer pain as it lives in the promise of Grace.  We can hope, and even fantasize of glorious tomorrows with all our dreams coming true – but we must leave it in the field of hope – of allowing God the freedom to meet our deepest needs – those of the soul which are so often known in our hearts but not to our minds.  We can hope the ending will turn out the way we want it to be, but then we must leave it open-ended and wait -- wait with great expectation for God to act, knowing whatever happen will be for the very best.

 This is a big pill to swallow sometimes especially when it comes to expectations for our children – like they are going to grow up safe, survive the stupidity of their adolescent choices, move on the career of our choosing, marry the perfect spouse who adores us and won’t mind us moving in with them should the need arise, and then give us perfect replicas of themselves as grandchildren.

So what happens when real life shows up?  If we are wise we can soften those expectations and start leaning on Hope. That looks so easy on paper… More times than not however, making the transfer is difficult.  Very difficult… and painful. The more we are attached to an outcome, (most cases a person as in family member) the harder it is to pry our little piddies off expectations.

 Case in point: my good friend just buried her daughter last week. Many of our lunches of the past few years were conversations about trying to keep our kids alive and the fears associated with dancing with the devil. Whereas we had two separate issues, the endpoint was the same. Dear God, please let our kids survive. A little bit more at stake here than a church picnic.

The last time we lunched I saw my friend move from expectation to Hope however, and I stood there amazed as I was far from it. Depression was a chemical issue with her child and they tried everything - I mean everything to help her. My friend wouldn’t give up fighting, but there was peace in her heart – hope in a cure but acceptance that her daughter’s healing may only be in heaven. She made the transition from expectation to hope with sadness but she was at peace.  I am sure it was a major factor why she could speak of Grace so eloquently at her daughter’s memorial service.

 As the years go on life hands us more and more rainy-day picnics. We cannot stop the events and yet we try desperately when we have a death grip on what our future is supposed to look like, especially as we age.

 There is an old saying, “Insanity is resistance to ‘what is.’” Insanity is also holding on to expectations that our last miles will be like the AARP Hilton commercials - golf, tennis, world travel, fashionably underweight with strong knees, thriving libido and a well-stocked retirement portfolio. Others of us would simply be happy to have family members still walking around with us without trips to the oncologist or cemetery. Not too much to ask we hope.  Ok , I still want to lose 30 pounds but I can say that when it went from and Expectation to Hope I felt much better in my own skin.

Surrender, or making the transition from expectation to hope is talked about in many major traditions. In Islam. The concept of surrender is when a person abides by the five main Pillars of Islam - following the faith means surrendering or submitting one's will to God.  In Hinduism according to the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna said;” just surrender unto Me. I shall deliver you from all sinful reactions. Do not fear.

Gerald May speaks of the contemplative Christian tradition when he says;  Hope springs eternal.  It cannot die.  It is a gift of God and a promise of His Grace.  It opens us to love because it does not have to be bound by a proven experience to be true. We can see the sun shining and hope it will warm up -- if not today, then perhaps tomorrow…or the next day. Or in my case - a church picnic and my son's life.

In closing, when we live in expectation instead of hope, we unknowingly try to tell God how to save us from our situations and fears.  That totally leaves the possibility of Grace out of the equation. God doesn’t work that way and He keeps reminding us of that fact but we are so slow!!!  God does not give us our orders for the day and then leave us alone to construct our own redemptions.  We always try to beat Grace to the finish line because we feel our security comes from knowing and not from faith.  Always trying to outguess the future robs us of precious time of the moment…the NOW… the Peace of God. In the end – isn’t that what we are all after?  A little Peace.  We expect safe passage in a world that is incapable of that task. 

So we gather ourselves together, wipe away the tears, take a deep breath, forgive what we cannot control – let it go too… and try to go on in Hope of a better day…