Colossal Hope
Thursday, January 6, 2022
La Mano del Desierto in the Atacama Desert in Chile
INVOCATION
Majesty, we reach for you and you bend the heavens to reach us.
ILLUMINATION
Out in the Atacama Desert in Chile, a hand rising from the sand to touch the stars. The city of Antofagasta commissioned sculptor Mario Irarrázabal to “create a monument to the emptiness of the Atacama Desert.” But to me, La Mano del Desierto—The Hand of the Desert—is an attempt for a terrified and lonely generation to reach to the heavens like a child begging to be comforted in an adult’s arms.
This giant left hand stands, in a way, on tiptoe, the way all children do who strain to meet eye-to-eye with the adults in the room. The only thing is that La Mano del Desierto isn’t tucked cozily with others in a room - it stands all alone in the middle of nowhere. It’s only hope for companionship is God.
According to Wikipedia, the size of the sculpture (which is taller than an NFL goalpost) is meant to emphasize human vulnerability and helplessness. Imagine driving for miles and miles along this lonely highway in the desert with nothing but air and sand all around you, and then suddenly coming upon this massive, desperate hand rising through the sand. I would think that most travelers tunneling down the unfolding desolate road of colossal nothingness might be overcome with deep feelings of hopefulness. The hand reaching to the sky serves as a milepost reminding you, “You are not alone. Keep going.”
La Mano del Desierto is not the first earth-hand Irarrázabal created. Along the coast of the Atlantic is La Mano del Punta Este, a giant right hand rising from the shore of the beach. The sculptor named it Man Emerging to Life because it looks as if it’s waving to us from the ocean. Locals also call it The Drowned. Again, for me, this represents hope at a desperate time – someone calls out to God for help just as the tide pulls their head below the tumultuous waves.
What if this is what our hope looks like to God – a beloved’s desperate hand reaching to the sky? And what if our commitment to hope looks like those who feel alone and forgotten? Could we each be the spectacular monoliths of hope rising in the foreground of arid despair and drowning desolation?
I don’t know, but I hope so.
LITANY
From the tumultuous waves, we cry out to you.
From the arid deserts, we cry out to you.
Along the endless desperate miles, we search hope.
Along the monotonous empty shores, we search for hope.
Inside our desolation, you will meet us.
Inside our despair, you will meet us.
Our hope is within you.
EXHORTATION
“I will always be with you, your invisible guide, walking beside you, until the new age has fully come.”
Matthew 28:20, First Nations Version: An Indigenous Translation of the New Testament
BENEDICTION
May we be the colossal hope rising in the middle of nothingness to remind a desolate world, “You are not alone. God is here. Keep going.”
your writing is so beautiful. my soul has found some rest, and my body has finally been able to take some deep breaths, as i've wandered around these pages this morning. so thankful to have stumbled upon your work. incredibly moving.