At the CAC’s virtual gathering “How Do We Find Hope in Hard Times?,” Grammy Award–winning artist and musician Jon Batiste joined the CAC team in conversation. Dean of Faculty Carmen Acevedo Butcher asked Batiste about joy and celebration as a way to affirm our humanity amid circumstances that dehumanize us: “Where are you seeing that dehumanization right now, and how might we lean into joy as an act of resistance?” Batiste responded:
There are so many things that we can say about the times we’re in, and so many ways to look at it. In general, I like to look at things as happening on different axes. There are all these things happening at once from the perspective of your own life, the perspective of observing the world around you, and ultimately, observing history. We can see the ebbs and flows of time, and how we’ve gone through all of these different phases within the course of our generation and generations past.
So you have to start by finding a rooting that is true and meaningful for you. That’s ultimately where we begin to find authentic joy, because joy comes from pain. It’s a transmutation and an alchemizing of pain. It shifts it into a space that is true and authentic for you, even if the circumstances around you don’t change. Deep hope can’t be suppressed by bad circumstances. Hope transcends the conditions of your circumstances.
We [can] lose hope when we don’t believe or see evidence of a positive outcome anymore, but the deepest hope is this inner knowing that the brightest light can come from the darkest moments. You find that hope … by first questioning, “What are the things that I’m hoping for? Who are they for? Who is in control of hope? What is my hope rooted in? What is my belief about the ultimate outcome?”
I’ve started to learn that hope transcends the physical. Hope is the language of the invisible. It transcends circumstances because it transcends physicality. It’s spiritual. It’s the language of the invisible realm, which is just as real, if not more real, than the things we can see and touch. Hope is the deep inner knowing that comes from building that [foundation]. That’s why I like to say that hope is like a contact sport. You work on it. You get better at it. My house could be flooded, and the roof could be on fire, and still, there’s a sense of hope I can have. I’m going to stay in that boat.
This isn’t easy all the time, but it’s a choice that—once we make it and we root ourselves in the deepest, most authentic place in our life, however we arrived there—then we can truly live that out. We can build on that, and it compounds, no matter what the circumstances surrounding us are, no matter what they could be, and whether we have control of them or not.
Reference:
Carmen Acevedo Butcher and Drew Jackson with Cole Arthur Riley and Jon Batiste, “How Do We Find Hope in Hard Times? A Contemplative Response to Uncertainty, Loss, and Change,” (Center for Action and Contemplation, March 13, 2026). Unavailable.
Image credit and inspiration: Dyu Ha, untitled (detail), 2019, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. We reach out with a deep desire to connect to hope and a sense of timing beyond our own.
Story from Our Community:
As I reflect on the scene in the Book of Acts—freely giving to those in need and expressing love as an intimate core community—this appears both unbelievable and extremely desirable. It is such a contrast to the tone of the world today. Scarcity versus abundance. Peace, hope, and love versus more military spending. Both action and contemplation are helping me to learn and experience a Spirit-filled life.
— Sean K.
