Etched onto my memory is the line by the German theologian Jürgen Moltmann, cited during a lecture in Cambridge several years ago:

God is our happiness. God is our torment. God is the wide space of our hope.

Hope needs wide space in which to expand and thrive.

I am reading Glaubensrepublik Deutschland: Reisen durch ein religiöses Land by journalists Matthias Drobinski and Claudia Keller. Bestehen als Minderheit: die Hoffnungsgemeinde (p.61) begins with a simple mention of hope:

Hope is the gift of hearing amid the cacophanies of the present the music of the future.

That's it. The haunting melody of the future – with the resurrection shining back into the present – echoes faintly in the subconscious of a world deafened by the noise of violence, hopelessness and power.

Christians are to be those who, unable to escape this haunting melody, dare to sing it – even when it sounds absurd or frail or unreal.