April 1984

Cover Story

We live in a society of unconfessed despair.
Vancouver, British Columbia, did not invent Skid Row.
The question I wrestle with is: do I live as a person of hope?
Two weeks ago, I came to Nicaragua to spend six months with Witness for Peace.
Striving to hold back the placement of Pershing and cruise missiles on Dutch soil.
We have seen the many faces of hope. It has met us along the way in a fascinating variety of sizes and colors.
God used Ntozake Shange to help me name the pain that I felt.
The clearest signs of hope in my life all have faces and names.
Last November I was in a place called Mogopa in the Western Transvaal.
Since I was detained as a prisoner of conscience, I have had moments of deep anguish.
Waiting for a bus one day near my home, I saw a man standing nearby.
In the disarmament movement, history is more than meets the eye.

Feature

Meditations for liturgical seasons.
The theological roots of whole-person health care.
The White Train did not pass unnoticed.

Columns

The rain fell in steady streams. The forecast said rain through the night and into Easter morning.
In these difficult times, where do we find hope?
The ostentatiously "religious" nature of Reagan's re-election campaign has been a surprise.

Departments

From my cluttered porch / I watch the storm move in ...

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