Hopecore

The other day, I was sitting in the recliner with Pippin when something thumped on the side of the house and at almost the exact same time, my watch buzzed and my phone displayed an alert that there was someone on my back patio.

I immediately leapt up and raced to the back door.

There was no one.

So I went to the front door and stepped out onto the front porch.  Again, there was no one.

Judging by the video taken by my Ring camera, several boys had raced across my back patio and down the narrow path that is overgrown with honeysuckle, grapevine and poison ivy.  Only the deer dare walk that path.  I have a small fence at the street side entrance as a deterrent.  It doesn’t stop the deer and apparently it also doesn’t stop middle school boys.

I went back inside and pulled back the curtain to the window that overlooks that small fence, and there, sure enough, were two boys, their backs to me, crouching behind the fence.  I mean, I don’t know why they were crouching—anyone could see them.

There was a third boy out on the street hunched behind the neighbor’s car.

I didn’t even think—I rapped my knuckle on the window.  Immediately the boys jumped and looked at me.  I gave them my “I’m not impressed teacher face” and made a motion with my hand, shooing them away.

And off they ran.

When I told this story to a friend the other day, she was laughing, but not because my story was funny, but because it reminded her of a scene from Project Hail Mary where the main character, Ryland, is attempting to communicate with an alien (and I will leave it at that as to avoid spoilers—I have read the book but not seen the movie personally).

But my friend’s reaction to the movie, days after she had seen it, is evidence of a movie that is really connecting to and sticking with moviegoers.  My friend was still tickled thinking of the movie.  The movie was still bringing her joy. 

I was reading an article the other day that appeared in The Hollywood Reporter about the resurgence of what is called “hopecore” in movies, specifically Project Hail Mary and the Pixar movie, Hoppers.  Hopecore is simply a feelgood movie.  It makes us laugh, probably, but it also touches that part of us, our hearts, if you’re secular, our souls, if you are spiritual, that makes us take a deep breath.  It releases the tension inside of us that we hadn’t even known we were holding.  Hopecore makes us feel seen and held and as the name suggests, it fills us with hope and hope frequently leads to optimistic thoughts, thoughts like, “Yeah, the world is in rough place right now, but it’s going to be okay.”

In fact, of the ten highest earning movies so far this year, at least half of them, I would call hopecore.  They include: The Super Mario Galaxy movie; Project Hail Mary; Hoppers; GOAT and Zootopia 2.  Four of these are marketed as kids’ movies, but it’s clear a lot of adults enjoy them, perhaps because it reminds them of a time when things were less complicated.

Even in books, you will find people drawn recently to hopecore.  On the New York Times bestseller lists, you will find books like Raising Hare (one of my top books for 2025) about a woman who raises a wild hare.  Also on the non-fiction list a recently released book When the Forest Breathes: Renewal and Resilience in the Natural World.  Among fiction books you will find, once again, Project Hail Mary, but also Theo of Golden, both of which seem to be on everyone’s bookclub lists.

People’s need for hopecore has led to the sudden popularity of cozy mysteries and cozy fantasies.  Basically if Hallmark had written a mystery or fantasy novel.

People are choosing hopecore because it’s the literary and/or visual equivalent of comfort food.

We need to be reminded—we desperately need to be reminded—that there is goodness in this world and that innocence and empathy and peacefulness are not faults but virtues.

We need to be reminded to abide in radical love.

To turn our back to cynicism and pessimism and nihilism. 

We need to be reminded that Jesus’ words in today’s reading from John 15:1-11—His invitation to abide in Him, to abide in His love is not something we should reject.

“Abide” Jesus says eleven times in today’s reading.

“Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.”

Abiding in Jesus is to lean into Him, is to be protected by Him, by His love, because—we need protecting.

But it’s not just abiding in Jesus, it’s letting Him in to abide in you, to strengthen you, to encourage you, to drive darkness out and replace it with His light and His love. 

What is it that gives you hope these days?

For me, I get a lot of hope from the natural world. 

I am left in awe every time I look out my back door and see the chickadee and robin who have made nests almost right on top of each other, unafraid to share space, tolerant of each other’s cries and songs.  Those nests are filled with potential.

I also have hope whenever I walk down the street and see the weeds, yes even the dandelions, because that means there is life.  Winter is over.  Spring’s roots are growing deep and much of what looks forsaken now will be overflowing with color and movement and life very soon.

But I also get hope from each of you, from the people in my life, from strangers and friends, from family to new friends.  Yes, I even get hope from the two boys hiding behind the fence in my yard.  Why?  Because they were playing and, for a lot of kids these days, play is luxury.

People give me hope because I see the light in each of you.  And if you only knew how bright your light shined, you would never fear the dark.  It is the light of Jesus abiding in each of you.

Now complete the circuit.

Abide in Him.  Only then can our joy be complete.

Amen.

 

 

The Lady or the Tiger

Let me set the scene for you.

Many years ago, a king has come up with a new way to put people on trial.  It is a trial by fate.  The accused is sent into an arena where they come upon two doors.  Behind one door is a ravenous tiger and behind the other is a lady, specifically chosen to be a good mate to the accused.

If the accused chooses the door with the tiger behind it, he is clearly guilty and the tiger kills him.

If he chooses the door with the lady behind it, he is innocent and must marry the woman.

As it happens, the king’s daughter has fallen in love with a man who the king feels is not worthy of her.  So he puts the man in the arena to face the two doors.

Now, the princess knows the location of both the lady and the tiger.

And her lover knows that she knows.

And now she has a choice.  She can direct him to the door with the lady behind it, saving his life or, she can direct him to the door with the tiger behind it because she cannot bear to see him with another woman.

I think we can agree a decent human being directs him to the door with the lady behind it.

She nods to him, directing him to the door to his right.

But while it may be an easy choice for us, is it an easy choice for the princess?  Has she saved his life or ended it?

Holy Week is a week of choices.

Today is Wednesday of Holy Week and though it doesn’t have a specific Liturgical Calendar designation, traditionally it is called Spy Wednesday, as in the day when Judas chooses to betray Jesus for thirty pieces of silver.

Tomorrow is Maundy Thursday, another day of choices.  It is here at the Garden of Gethsemane that Jesus, after asking God to take away the cup of suffering, chooses to submit to God’s will.

And then, of course, Good Friday, where Pilate offers the crowd what he thinks is an easy choice.  Jesus or Barabbas?

Keep in mind that Pilate really wanted nothing to do with Jesus, and that was before his wife told him to have nothing to do with Jesus because of a dream she had.  Pilate could see what was happening, the behind-the-scenes machinations that would lead to Jesus’ death.  Pilate was being used, and he knew it, and being a prideful Roman, he resented it.

So, he gave the crowd what should have been an easy choice.  Free Jesus or free Barabbas. 

All of my life I have given very little thought to who Barabbas was.  Only in my book Witnesses to the Passion of Christ, did I think to give him a voice at all.  I thought honestly Barabbas was a placeholder.  He could have been anyone provided that for the sake of the plot, he was clearly the wrong choice.

Barabbas was a known insurrectionist, a murderer.

But for years, I have thought, Pilate could have chosen anyone or anything to pit against Jesus in this scenario.  Pilate could have said, “Will you free Jesus of Nazareth who has reportedly healed the blind and the sick, fed the hungry and even raised the dead OR will you free this man-eating tiger who has already killed twenty of your widows and young children, and who, if you choose to set free, I will release directly into the crowd here and let me just say, he is a very hungry tiger?  Now who will you set free?”

And the crowd raises their fists into the air and says, “The tiger!!”

This past Sunday, in his sermon, Reverend Greg looked at this choice of Jesus versus Barabbas and it gave me new insight.  First of all, our reading from Matthew 27:16–17 tells us that Barabbas’ full name was Jesus Barabbas.  And if you think giving the people a choice between two Jesuses is a bit on the nose, consider that, as Reverend Greg pointed out, Barabbas means “son of the father.”

Jesus Barabbas was, as I said, an insurrectionist and as Reverend Greg stated in his sermon, Barabbas was someone who fought Rome on Roman terms.  He used the tools and the weapons of Rome to fight Rome.

Or, I could sum it up simply as Barabbas fought fire with fire.

Jesus, on the other hand, our Jesus, Messiah, Son of God, did not fight fire with fire—in fact, He was not fighting Rome at all.

When we wonder how a crowd could have chosen Barabbas over Jesus, we are thinking like Pilate.  We are oversimplifying things.  We are thinking that the choice is simply choosing a good guy over a bad guy.

But the choice is more nuanced than that.

To choose Jesus over Barabbas in this situation is to choose mystery, is to choose the unknown over Barabbas, who everyone knows.

Jesus, who flipped the tables in the temple, upsets the natural order of things.  He heals on the sabbath.  He forgives sins.  Everything Jesus does is brand new to people.  He is a wild force in the world.  I keep thinking to the Narnia books where it is said of the great lion Aslan (a Jesus stand-in) that Aslan is not a tame lion.

Jesus is not a tame lion.  You could look at someone like John the Baptist and the way he dressed and what he ate (those yummy wild locusts) and say yes this man is a wild man.

But Jesus—to choose Jesus—is to choose someone so wild, He rewrites the universe every time He speaks.  To follow Jesus takes such a leap of faith—because you are following Him into the unknown.  And there is no telling what will happen next.

It is very easy to fault the crowd, to judge them, for choosing Barabbas.

It is very easy to say that we would not have made that decision.

Over the years, whenever the passion play has been read aloud in church and the congregation has been asked to yell out, “Crucify Him!” I have stayed silent.

I won’t say those words.

But as Reverend Greg was preaching on Sunday, I was sitting there thinking, “Crap, two thousand years later and we are still choosing the wrong Jesus, aren’t we?”

We’re still fighting the same wars in the same ways rather than choosing another way, rather than wondering how the radical love of the other Jesus might change the world.

We are so quick to judge those who chose Barabbas, to point out the splinter in their eyes, without acknowledging the wood plank in our own eyes.

Earlier I was sharing with you the very well-known story of The Lady or the Tiger, but I didn’t tell you how it ended.  The story ends in the unknown.  The author never tells us what was behind the door, the lady or the tiger.  The point of the story is self-reflection.  Are we the cynic who thinks the tiger is behind the door, or the optimist who thinks the lady is behind the door?  Do we believe the best in people or the worst?  What if the man had not chosen either door?  What if he had refused to play the game?

What if … what if … what if … can we ever be comfortable in the unknown?

Can we ever be comfortable in the mystery?

Because if we can, we may find that the world, the universe, is more wild and wonderful and amazing than anything we could have ever imagined.

Amen.