Hope Manifest
December 15, 2023 | Yoska Guta TD ‘25
Within the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, the World Health Organization (WHO) recorded a 25% increase in anxiety and depression globally. In the U.S. alone, these rates dramatically increased from 8.5% in 2019 to 27.8% in 2020, before reaching an all-time high of 32.8% in 2021. Amongst many other factors, one of the primary contributors to these changes was the implementation of state and nationwide lockdown orders, which were put in place to minimize the spread of COVID-19. Although isolating at home gave people opportunities to pick up new hobbies or spend more time with family, it also amplified our sense of instability amidst a rapidly changing and tragic world. In an attempt to get some semblance of control and structure, many people, therefore, began turning to practices like manifestation.
Manifestation—the practice of using positive thinking to bring one’s desires into existence—finds its roots in the 19th-century New Thought movement and the Law of Attraction. In its simplest form, this ideology suggests that the outcome of your situation is based primarily on your thoughts. In 2006, this ideology was repopularized by Rhonda Byrne’s documentary and self-help book The Secret. In it, Byrne, like many others, urges people to “see the things that you want as already yours” and to “remember that your thoughts are the primary cause of everything.” For some people, this means making vision boards and journaling. For others, it means adhering to specific practices like the 369 rule — a method of manifestation in which a person aims to obtain their desires by writing them down three times in the morning, six times in the afternoon, and nine times before bed for 33-45 days. Although each person may have a different way of implementing this ideology, the end goal is all the same: using your thoughts to realize your desires.
For some people, this seemingly harmless source of self-soothing can easily become a vicious cycle of self-dependence. Sure, one could, in theory, celebrate every positive thing that comes their way as a victory of their positive thoughts. But, they must equally bear the brunt of every unwanted outcome, as their confidence lies solely within their thoughts. Yet, they mustn’t ruminate on these negative outcomes for too long, out of fear of perpetuating such outcomes through their negative thoughts. In the long run, this circular ideology has the potential to drive people further into cycles of ignorance and blame.
Hope, a virtue historically associated with Christianity, has morphed into a progressively more secular value in our modern world. As we have moved away from the traditional theistic model found in many societies throughout time to a more “self-sustained,” us-centered, worldview, this virtue has been redefined as something to be found within yourself. Simple phrases like “main character energy,” or “I’m putting it out into the universe” or “speaking my [desired thing] into existence” have reinforced the belief that everything is dependent on and about us at all times—one of the core principles of manifestation. But what happens when all of your positive-thinking efforts don’t deliver on their promises? Where do you turn when, despite all of your intentional wishing and willing, you still cannot seem to make the bad things go away?
People who subscribe to manifestation anchor part of their argument for this ideology in the idea that one’s mindset and outlook on the world has tremendous power over how they experience it. The strong emphasis on positive thinking comes from the belief that the energy you put into the world will greatly determine what you attract. While planning for the future and having aspirations matters, this aspect of manifestation, in its very essence, depends on your willful denial of the brokenness around you. It demands that you put up blinders, throw positivity into a void, and wait for the “universe” to mysteriously return it in the form of whatever you had wished for. One website suggests the strategy "[leaving] what you don’t want behind,” using the example of thinking about the excitement of the new job you want rather than focusing on the negativity of leaving your current one. While on a minor scale, this habit of wishful thinking may not be so bad, it can be particularly harmful when your only solution to despair and sorrow is to keep telling yourself it doesn’t exist.
Unlike manifestation, Christian hope is rooted, not in one's ability to ignore the pain and sorrow around them, but in one’s ability to boldly look it in the face without succumbing to it, particularly because of the one in whom their hope is found. Psalm 42, a song of lament from the Old Testament, offers us an alternative model for dealing with our troubles. Psalms of lament are generally used to communicate one’s anguish and deep need for God by way of vivid imagery and strong emotions. But, there are three aspects of the psalmist’s approach in Psalm 42 specifically that allow him to not only convey his troubles to God but to do so in a way that effectively challenges the principles of manifestation.
The first aspect of this lament that directly challenges the core statutes of manifestation is the psalmist’s boldness in facing the reality of the world’s suffering. In the first few verses, the psalmist cries out to the Lord with genuine desperation. Not making any effort to hide his situation, he instead likens his need for God to a deer's deep thirst and need for water. Similarly, the psalmist speaks of his soul's earnest and frantic thirst after God, his ultimate provider, asking “When shall I come and appear before God?” Beyond just addressing their cry to the Lord, Christians are called to also understand their deep need for Him above anything else and resolve to take comfort in nothing short of His presence.
This communication of need continues throughout the entirety of the psalm with nearly seven of the eleven verses being focused on the psalmist despair. For someone that subscribes to the statutes of manifestation, this is easily the worst way to overcome the difficulties in your life—wouldn’t meditating on negative thoughts just worsen the situation by beckoning the “universe” to keep bringing things of that nature your way? According to verses 5 and 11, it would seem this is not the case. Although the psalmist is very honest in sharing his emotions, he is not overcome by them in the ways that those who manifest suggest he should be. Instead, twice in this psalm, he looks inwardly and challenges himself saying:
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.
These two verses are interesting because it would seem that the psalmist has every reason to be dejected, as shown by everything else he has shared. And yet, he asks his soul, “Why are you cast down…why are you in turmoil within me.” After recounting all the reasons for his sadness, the psalmist stops to challenge his heart. Even though it would seem he has every right to remain in a place of despair, he instead calls his soul to put its hope in God. And in asking his soul this question, the psalmist challenges us in our approach to suffering and hopelessness. Rather than giving into everything our emotions convey and allowing ourselves to get to a place of complete defeat, as Christians, we are called to replicate the psalmist’s approach by reminding ourselves to “Hope in God, for [we] shall again praise him, [our] salvation and [our] God.”
Though I can’t be sure, I suspect that one of the reasons that manifestation is so positivity-focused is because, on some level, there is an understanding that if our hope lies within us—and our very limited capacity—then there is a possibility our troubles, if acknowledged, could consume us. But, see, the psalmist's response does not let his sorrow and grief consume him. Neither is it to live in denial by resting in a false confidence or optimism. Instead, the psalmist is able to hold his sorrows in one hand and his hope in the other, allowing him to soberly challenge himself to look toward the One who is his ultimate solution.
In manifestation, meditating on positive thoughts is key to getting the universe to bring your desires to fruition. More than just wishful thinking, you must assume that what you want is already yours and meditate on that truth. But, this kind of empty meditation is rooted in nothing other than a single individual's ability to imagine, ultimately paling in comparison to what the psalmist does in verse 8:
By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
After coming face to face with his greatest burdens and challenging his soul, in verse 8, the psalmist reminds himself of his reason for assurance in His God. What is significant here is that the psalmist uses the name YHWH or LORD to refer to God— a name first used by God in Exodus 3 when He called Moses to lead the people of Israel out of slavery. In using this name, God gives Moses reason for confidence by demonstrating that the One commissioning him to the position of leadership is trustworthy and able to give victory. Consequently, by using the name YHWH or LORD, the psalmist is reminding himself of God’s covenant to his forefathers, which in turn solidifies his confidence in the Lord’s faithfulness.
Although the psalmist initially spoke of his tears being food to him day and night, he now declares the goodness of God, who sustains the psalmist through His steadfast love and songs. In other words, the psalmist doesn’t meditate on his own self-imagined hopes or comfort himself using human means. Instead, he chooses to meditate on the one true God who has proven Himself faithful for generations. What is more, the progression of the psalmist’s speech throughout the piece shows that although Christian hope, like positive thinking, is a choice and a discipline, it is comparatively far more resilient — this hope is refined through hardship and trials not dependent on the denial of their existence.
Christians believe that it is the Lord’s kindness to sometimes let us reach the end of ourselves; to let us get to a place where all of our human effort seems to fail. For it is in these very moments that we are brought to a place of humble surrender to admit our deep need for Him. Throughout Psalm 42, the psalmist goes back and forth between expressing his sorrow, asking God where He is, and reminding his soul to hope in God. The back and forth shows us that journeying through the valley is rarely a clean-cut experience where one moment we are in despair and the very next moment we overcome it completely. But, in reading this psalm Christians and non-Christians alike should be encouraged to take a similar approach of casting all their cares on the Lord and bringing every messy, tearful need before the One who has the power to uplift and restore our downcast souls.
October 22, 2024 | By Zeki Tan MY ‘25
Rowan Williams is the 104th Archbishop of Canterbury. He taught theology at Oxford and Cambridge and served as the Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge, from 2013 to 2020. Dr. Williams is also a poet and translator of poetry; he published his most recent edition of Collected Poems in 2022. In February 2024 he delivered the Taylor Lectures at the Yale Divinity School. I interviewed Dr. Williams while he was in New Haven to discuss his reflections on writing poetry, intellectual life, and how both enrich and are enriched by religious belief. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.