On sustaining hope and action in uncertain times

“I can’t believe the news today/I can’t close my eyes/and make it go away…”

More than 40 years ago, in the midst of the Troubles in Northern Ireland, the Irish band U2 opened the song “Sunday Bloody Sunday” with these words. In these opening months of 2025, their lament holds more resonance than ever. The media shows us rising greed, callousness and aggression, while the sufferings of the poor and vulnerable are not merely unheeded but, in many ways, exacerbated by the actions of those with wealth and power. On top of this, institutions and alliances we have long relied on are being called into question. In such a climate, it can be challenging to follow the daily news. It is easy to feel despair and tempting to retreat into any place where we might feel we have some control. Those of us with relative privilege may, to some degree, be able to insulate ourselves from the world. But at what cost?

As followers of Jesus, we are called to love our neighbours as ourselves, to serve the world God loves. We cannot close our eyes to the harms and injustices experienced by our neighbours and the Earth. At the same time, we cannot let ourselves be whipped into a frenzy of anger, fear and outrage. Nor can we let ourselves be crushed by a paralyzing weight of dread. Neither of these reactions can sustain the pursuit of love and justice to which God calls us.

The Rev. Madeleine Urion, a priest in the Diocese of Edmonton, writes: “I’m beginning to recognize how I do not have capacity to sustain the outrage, the fear and the anger I see daily.” Instead, she recalls the words of her then six-year-old son, facing a time of great transition: “When I get to school, I open my heart, and I keep it open no matter what comes at it.” It is that open heart, that courage to be vulnerable, compassionate and loving, that keeps us connected to our own humanity, to each other, and above all, to God.

We cultivate this openness of heart in two ways: prayer and practice.

First, prayer is essential. Jesus sustained his ministry by frequently withdrawing to deserted places to pray. In daily prayer and meditation upon scripture, we come to understand ourselves as deeply loved and sustained by God. We find our identity rooted in God, not in our wealth or status, how influential we are in our workplaces or how many people “like” us on social media. This helps us to cultivate a sense of security, humility and authenticity instead of reactivity and defensiveness when we feel ourselves under threat.

From such a place, we are more able to open ourselves up to those around us. We can meet our neighbours with compassion, offering them dignity and respect. We can come to recognize and honour the diverse gifts of each person, resisting the forces that dehumanize God’s people and isolate us from each other. We can even cultivate love for our enemies, recognizing that our struggle is not against flesh-and-blood human beings but against the spiritual forces of evil, as the Epistle to the Ephesians tells us. While we stand up against hatred and injustice, we can, like Jesus, refuse to wield the weapons of hatred against our adversaries.

This is not easy. Our natural impulses to wall ourselves off from whatever and whoever we perceive as a threat, or to lash out in response, are constantly being stoked, often for gain. We need to return to prayer again and again, to ground us in our connection with God, to ask for that open heart, for the fruit of the Spirit to be grown in us.

We might adopt a habit of praying for divine protection and guidance before we read the news or open up social media, as suggested in a blog by Rabbi Irwin Keller. Rabbi Keller also suggests praying after reading the news, asking for wisdom and discernment on what one “might do for peace, for justice, for the wholeness of our planet, or for the betterment of my community.”

This brings us to the second point: embodying our faith in practical action. This is important in several ways. It gets us out of our heads – and screens! – and into the material world. Cooking and serving meals, making up harm reduction or relief kits, tending a garden, making art, taking someone to an appointment, picking up litter – all these things not only show love in a tangible way, but they are grounding for us who do them, connecting us to each other and the Earth. These acts may seem insignificant in the face of great evil, but God can multiply these small but concrete acts, just as he multiplied the loaves and fishes brought forward by one young boy to feed the multitudes.

“In a world bent on chaos, practicing the fruit of the Spirit becomes an act of defiance and hope,” says African American author Jemar Tisby. In the midst of anger, fear or uncertainty, let us seek God in prayer, and then do the next compassionate thing.