Dear Reader,

It’s the beginning of a new year, and it feels almost obligatory to start with hope. And yet, I hear the question beneath the question: How? How do we hope when so much around us feels as though it’s unraveling—when the headlines are grim, institutions feel fragile, and suffering seems relentless?

I’ve just returned from Southeast Asia, where I attended a global humanitarian aid conference. The organizers were bracing themselves for low attendance. After all, in 2024, the United States accounted for more than 40 percent of all UN-tracked global humanitarian aid, making it the single largest contributor in the world. Since then, dramatic policy shifts and funding freezes—particularly within USAID—have sharply reduced that support, moving into this year. Other countries are following suit. The reality is sobering: fewer resources, greater need, and more work to be done with far less certainty.

And yet, something unexpected happened. The conference had more attendees than ever before.

Were people disappointed? Absolutely. Were they discouraged? Surprisingly, no. What I witnessed instead was a room full of deeply committed people refusing to give in to despair. They were strategizing—figuring out how to use limited funds more effectively, how to strengthen existing partnerships, and how to collaborate across organizations rather than compete. There was no denial of the crisis, but there was also no surrender to it.

I left feeling hopeful—not because circumstances had improved, but because I was reminded that while many of our political leaders appear increasingly consumed by ego and self-interest, most people around the world are committed to doing good and making a difference.

This is where Jesus invites us to locate hope. Luke 17:21 is often translated as, “The Kingdom of God is within you,” but a more accurate rendering is that the Kingdom is “in your midst.” I suspect both are true. The dream of a better world begins within us—but it becomes real only as it takes shape between us.

In Saying 113 of the Gospel of Thomas, Jesus says, “The kingdom is spread out upon the earth, and people do not see it.” Hope, then, is not naïve optimism. It is the discipline of learning to see what is already breaking through—and choosing to participate in it.

So how do we hope? We dare to imagine something better, even when the evidence suggests otherwise. And then we get to work creating it—together. Every act of justice, every expression of compassion, every refusal to surrender to cynicism is a small but real act of Kingdom-building.

Hope is not passive.
Hope is practiced.

May it be so.

~ Rev. Dr. Caleb J. Lines