How to nurture hope
An antidote for the dissatisfaction of modern life
What does it mean to be satisfied?
And I mean truly satisfied. Not entertained. Not sedated. Not surviving. But genuinely, wholly, completely satisfied, down to the depths of your soul.
I think, if you zoom out, many (maybe most) of our daily activities can be classified as “satisfaction-seeking.” At its best, that desire for fulfillment pushes us to new heights, driving us to obtain degrees, fight for promotions, and nurture meaningful relationships. But it can also be warped, resulting in abuses of power, consuming addiction, and disregard for others.
True satisfaction is elusive, fleeting, impossible to truly grasp. I know this experience because I’ve lived it. Even when you think you have all you could ever want, there still seems to be something, some ingredient, some achievement, some possession, that would make it better.
It’s the “stirring” in John Mayer’s soul. It’s Rainn Wilson’s unhappiness at the height of his success on The Office. It’s the “vanity of vanities” Solomon decries in Ecclesiastes.
In the midst of the pandemic, a new term popped up to describe the overwhelming sense of discontent that was overtaking more and more people: languishing. Described as the middle ground between flourishing and depression, it describes the joyless, aimless feelings that tend to fly under the radar for many individuals.
The New York Times article that was at least partially responsible for introducing the concept of “languishing” to our pop culture consciousness wraps up with a few tips for how to beat the “blah” feeling that so many were reporting during the time; the author suggests getting into a flow state by playing video games or binging Netflix, scheduling some uninterrupted time for focus, and setting manageable goals so that you can celebrate small wins, like playing an extra-long word on Words with Friends.
“‘Not depressed’ doesn’t mean you’re not struggling,” the author concludes. “‘Not burned out’ doesn’t mean you’re fired up. By acknowledging that so many of us are languishing, we can start giving voice to quiet despair and lighting a path out of the void.”
But…a path toward what?
To be completely honest, the conclusion of the NYT article felt like a bit of a gut punch to me. Or, maybe I should say, it would feel that way in the absence of a goal that transcends my existence.
If I’m feeling dissatisfied with life, tossed in the waves like a ship at sea, aimless and discontent, I should…distract myself with television? Schedule alone time? Play some games on my phone? To be honest, I’ve been there and done that, and I’ve always found that any feelings of languishing that I’m experiencing before doing those activities tend to come back with a particular vengeance afterwards.
Surely you’re seeing the disconnect here. It turns out that distraction, sedation, and entertainment, though temporary fixes, don’t actually solve the problem.
But, what will?
Mere Christianity and Hope
As usual, the works of C.S. Lewis provide a response.
Chapter 10 of the third book of Mere Christianity, titled “Hope,” begins as follows:
“Hope is one of the Theological virtues. This means that a continual looking forward to the eternal world is not (as some modern people think) a form of escapism or wishful thinking, but one of the things a Christian is meant to do.”
Why is that? This hope, Lewis explains, is the thing that empowers Christians to do good in the present world. “Aim at Heaven and you will get earth ‘thrown in’: aim at earth and you will get neither.” An earth-centric worldview guarantees that all attempts to make things “better” here will devolve into simple nihilism.
But, what about the longing? The yearning? The languishing? He anticipates that question as well:
“...when the real want for Heaven is present in us, we do not recognise it. Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise.”
We’ll all face these feelings—they’re as natural and as basic as our need for food and water. What we get to choose is how we respond to them. Lewis offers three options:
The Fool’s Way: This person “puts the blame on the things themselves” rather than recognizing that the problem actually resides inside himself. “They spend their whole lives trotting from woman to woman, from continent to continent, from hobby to hobby, always thinking that the latest is ‘the Real Thing’ at last, and always disappointed.”
The Way of the Disillusioned “Sensible Man”: This individual insulates himself from the pain of unfulfilled longing by convincing himself that it’s childish to think that true satisfaction could really exist. “It would be the best line we could take if man did not live for ever. But supposing infinite happiness really is there, waiting for us? Supposing one really can reach the rainbow’s end? In that case it would be a pity to find out too late that by our supposed ‘common sense’ we had stifled in ourselves the faculty of enjoying it.”
The Christian Way: The Christian response is not to sedate or stifle the desire, but to recognize that it is indicative of a far greater truth. “‘If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world…Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing.’”
What do we hope for?
Option 3, which Lewis designates as the only “right” response to the problem of longing, differs from the other two in a significant way: It recognizes that the desire won’t be fulfilled on earth not because the individual experiencing it has made some mistake, but because it’s a desire that comes from another place altogether. It’s simply impossible to satisfy this soul-deep longing with the tools and resources we have in this moment.
The ultimate hope of Christians—living in true communion with God, forever—is described in various ways throughout scripture, but perhaps the most piercing illustration comes in Revelation 21, when John describes the new order of the world after Christ’s return:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Revelation 21:1-4
As Christians, we are aware that any virtue we experience on earth is just a shadow of the things to come. But, that doesn’t mean we spend all our time lamenting the fact that we haven’t attained that glory yet; instead, it provides comfort to our weary, longing, languishing souls, and encourages us to share that comfort—our hope—with those around us who are so desperate for it.
Yes, we’re “lighting a path out of the void,” as the NYT article indicated, but we’re certain of where we’re headed: toward the greatest satisfaction that could ever exist.
“‘I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same.’”
It is my prayer that, if you haven’t experienced this hope, you would call upon the Lord today. He is a loving Father who is waiting to welcome you into the fold.
Thanks for reading!
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And a recommendation:
The 12-year anniversary of one of my all-time favorite albums, Switchfoot’s Vice Verses, just passed a few weeks ago. Nearly every song on this album captures the tension between hope and despair in a beautiful and deeply true way. Listen on Spotify here:
Or start with my favorite track here:
Great post! I recommend reading Lewis' autobiographical work Surprised by Joy. He talks about a persistent sense of longing that tortured him throughout life, and the various tiny glimpses of true hope that he would experience on rare occasions. Ultimately, he realized that this longing (and the jabs of joy) were pointing him towards Christ.