Rev. Joseph Boyd

We live in a land of great expectations. It’s hardwired, built in, part of

the fabric and DNA of this country. We are the inheritors of a vision to be a

city on a hill, a beacon of freedom, a beacon of opportunity, a beacon of

creativity and experimentation unlike the world has ever seen. We are still a

destination for immigrants across the world, who liquidate their family’s

finances, and risk their own lives. Only someone with great expectations

would do such a thing. The horizon is broad, and the vision of who we are

and might become is informed by great expectations.

It is no accident that the thrust of great social movements are based

on the premise of great expectations. The doors of opportunity open for

those who seek where there is a light dimly seen, but discernible, making

its way through a crack in the bottom. Many have flocked to Youngstown in

great expectation and continue to do so to this day. After the hurricane in

Puerto Rico, many came here to seek shelter from the storm. They came in

expectation of a safe place for their family, a place where their children may

find the nurture and resources for their dreams.

We are a people of dreamers. We dream of living our principles to the

point where they become self-evident, a fact of our existence. We dream

that we could be the ones to help shape the long arc of history, and help

bend it toward justice. We dream that the world we see before us may not

be the same world our children will inherit, and that we will have a say in

making this true.

We are truth-seekers. We aim to find the truth in our present, so that

expectations may be fulfilled and not delayed. We aim to venture forth into

the problems that face us with vigor and heart in expectation of fulfillment.

The boundaries that separate the past and the present are an artificial

boundary of the generations, a secret handshake passing on great

expectations. The past dimly understood reaches its hand into the present,

shaping our understanding of who we are, where we are, and where we

might go. It’s a shaper in our evolution that is steady, quiet, and persistent.

It’s the source of our will and it is the source of our dreaming.

Along the river of memory, we are caught in the waves of past discontent

and the pursuit of happiness. We are the children of a new day, a new day

that is rushing us along in great expectation.

Some find this great expectation awaiting in the upcoming election.

Some find this great expectation with the people, the grassroots. Some find

this great expectation in their churches. And some find this great

expectation in the gnawing sense in their gut that things could be

otherwise. Some stand in witness to this great expectation, witnessing

people struggle to be where they are, struggling to cross rivers. We witness

those who rest in the riverbeds, on a journey toward great expectation, a

journey awaiting fulfillment.

In this church, we await the great expectation of transformation. We

quicken it’s becoming by pouring our life into this great vision, a vision of a

self and world transformed by justice and peace. We pour our life into the

streams of hate, to slowly but surely transform the cultural water we swim

1. We purify it. We sanctify it. We bless it. Only those who live in great

expectations will do this.

Only who those with the vision keen enough to see the continuity with the

past, and the present becoming our future, chooses to live like this. It is a

gradual revelation of those who have rested on the shores of despair for

just long enough to realize there is always something more than despair.

This something more becomes the beacon, the light, that moves a person

forward, and moves a nation forward. It is only this sense of greatness that

can bring about greatness. It’s only this sense of justice awaiting fulfillment

that leads one to work faithfully to fulfill it.

Some of us choose to expect the worst. We expect that dreams will

be dashed, that the rivers will flood, and the children will be turned away.

We expect the death of the innocent, the rising of power among the greedy

and immoral. Some choose to believe in an amoral universe, a place that is

uncaring, neutral at best, and hostile toward great expectations.

The poor will always be with us, some will preach. They will preach

the American nightmare, they will preach of dreams forever deferred, of

people awaiting justice for generations, and justice never arriving in time.

They will preach of the end of the world, of the climate warming, of

overpopulation, of human overconsumption, and they will not be wrong.

We expect the worst. We see that we live in a land divided, a land

built on fear, a land of nationalism and capitalism. We see a land that

doesn’t seem to care about the basic health of its citizens, that seems to

disregard life, and prosper while our citizens remain sick and in need of

care. We see a land hostile to immigrants, hostile to women, hostile toward

those who preach a different narrative than what is best for business. We

witness the rising of different movements and ideas of socialism, black

empowerment, and accountability. We count the lifecycle of such

movements, and we watch the sands of time in an hourglass of our

choosing that is always dripping toward entropy and dissolution. We wait

for things to fall apart so we can maintain our trust in expecting the worst.

We look for evidence of expectations unfulfilled, we look for failure –

failure of imagination and failure of practice. And we find it. We find it in

spades.

We buy into the idea that change is best done slowly over time, that it’s

best not to rush things, because we will never fulfill the great promises of

our ancestors. We make up stories of those had great visions as those who

have great superstitions, great delusions, and great misfortune.

We understand that the world as it is a hard world to love, to love

with the kind of depth we wish we could muster on a cloudy September day

when the leaves fall to their demise and look gorgeous doing it. We have

acquired enough experience to know that things do not turn out the way we

want just because we want them to be so, even if we work really hard, even

if we give our lives to this deep desire.

We have learned to live cautious lives. We have learned to live with

caution of anyone or any group that aims to see this world as a setting for

something great and wondrous. We see this world as mundane, cruel,

cyclical and predictable. We have seen great things flash before our eyes,

and we’ve seen greatness fall. We have witnessed the ebb and flow of

great visions, and we have seen the conquest in each generation of the

strong over the weak, the powerful over the vulnerable.

Someone who expects the worst has great reasons to do so. There

are so many reasons in fact that after a while it’s not even helpful to keep

counting. It becomes best to not listen to the news or follow what is

happening, because the burden of such evidence becomes too much to

bear sometimes.

Expecting the worst dulls the pain, and that dull pain becomes the

soundtrack of our days, barely imperceptible, but constant. Expecting the

worst is built on personal experience, of experiencing the worst. Expecting

the worst comes from a spirit that has known defeat and is still alive,

awaiting another defeat. A strong soul expects the worst because they

have learned that they can witness and endure the worst.

We may find it wise to have no expectations. We may choose to live

each day as it comes, aiming not to have great expectations, great visions,

or any greatness whatsoever. We are burdened by the expectation of the

worst, and we feel that is too heavy of a load to manage. Having no

expectations, we may think, is a more spiritual or evolved choice.

It aligns well with our understanding possibly of great religious traditions

like Buddhism and Taoism, We have witnessed the truth that the root of

suffering is desire: desire for something other than what is. We see great

expectations as the root of suffering, propelling us from one high to another

low, in endless cycles. We believe we have found an end to such

nonsense, by cutting off the root: desire.

We aim to have no expectation of what today will bring, or what

tomorrow may become. We aim to not hope for too much or expect too

little. We aim to live a life of balance, to find a sense of peace and

tranquility in a topsy turvy world. The world is full of endless expectation

and endless disappointment, and we have learned this ride is too

exhausting, too taxing for our spirits. We will live with no expectations, and

cultivate a sense of openness for whatever arises. We will rest on the

shores of the river of memory, and dip our feet in its rushing waters only to

cool our worn and calloused feet after years of searching, and years of

expectation. We are ready to be where we are, not where we think we

should be.

We are ready to embrace the world as it is, not as we would like it to be.

We will not stand in the way of the visionaries, those with great expectation,

and we may even follow them a certain distance. But our following is

tempered by the understanding that any expectation can be thwarted, and

that surprises are endless. We cannot predict the flow of time, and we

cannot predict the flow of any one human life. So best to just let it flow, and

work on acceptance.

Which person are you? I am all of them. I live in great expectation. I

live expecting the worst. I live with no expectations. But in the end, I find

myself swayed by the lure of transformation – transformation of the self,

transformation of our society, transformation of our environment. I know

that having great expectations welcomes great suffering, and at the end of

the day, I’m willing to pray the price. I may be thwarted. I may be

disappointed. I may grow bitter and despair, and curse God in my moment

of defeat. But that is a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a risk worth taking for

something great. Great expectations welcomes great heartache, great

friendship, and great appreciation for the limitations of any given moment.

Other responses may be more sane, in some ways more sound, one could

argue more spiritually wise. But I’ve always believed that the greatest

wisdom is compassion, that suffering is not a deficit, but a gateway to

greater intimacy with the world. I am not interested in standing on the

shore, or standing in the river, letting it flow as it will. I want to swim and

help my fellow travelers get to the other side of despair, the other side of

longing. I want to help those cross the border even if we both end up in a

riverbed. This is my choice, and it may not be one you would choose, but I

encourage you to make a choice and live by it the best you can. The rest

of our life will depend on it. We will all depend on that choice. The choice

you make for your life will be the choice you will make for all of us. So

choose wisely. When morning breaks we will enter a new day, and in that

breaking our life will take shape. Will we shape it toward greatness of

compassion and vision? Will we shape it toward careful examination and

caution? Will we shape it based on allowance and acceptance? The day is

ours to choose. Let us choose wisely.