I was just thirteen at the ‘Dawning of the Age of Aquarius’. Now, more than fifty years on, the spirit of this infectious song still seems to permeate western culture with its moon-struck optimism and idealism. Freedom, peace, innovation, unity, equality, rights and enlightenment became bi-words of a boom that is still echoing loudly off the silo walls.

It all seemed within reach, once, before the aughts. Coming out of the Second World War, the only way was up. Immigrants grabbed hold of their boot straps, while civil rights, women’s liberation and various revolutions and decolonizations took hold around us. The headlines were full of the fall of the Berlin wall, space exploration and the promise of emerging digital technologies. There was still a general sense of solidarity on the path towards good and away from evil.

But somehow, now, it has started to feel desperate — this promise of progress. These last years have left us with a sour taste and indigestion. Our oughts and ideals have turned against us and turned us against each other. The proliferating visions of utopia have morphed into myopia, and the once friends with differences have become enemies, unable or unwilling to entertain points of view from other intersections.

The boom that refuses to go bust has become scattershot. Among the multiple movements to reclaim or proclaim, each takes aim at another. The now teeming collectives, in their passion for change, reject or reaffirm heritage and push party principles. Deconstruction is declared, and charters/constitutions invoked, all as the means to achieve certifiable ends. We are divided up by lot, set against each other and conditioned to expect, even demand nothing short of upheaval.

Right here, on this world wide web, the news is full of it — stories about the quest to be on the right side of history. We balk at the past, with its injustices and ignorance. But when the past is crushed and brushed aside to make way for the new, we cover up the troubles that corrupt this new milieu and bury the blessings that have been our inheritance. One injustice is replaced by another and inconvenient evidence is still thoroughly ignored.

So what shall we really say then, but “same old — same old,” “there is nothing new under the sun,” “what has been done will be done again” and what is undone will be undone again. History is! How can so many so quickly lose sight of it? In the annals of time, the thousand thousand pages are replete with reports documenting stories of the good, the bad and the ugly, all lying in wait, vying for attention and struggling to stay on top. Over and over again, in dizzying cycles, the myriad tumbling forces of nurture and nature go at it, biding their time or erupting with fury — always seeking to succeed, or at least survive.

Take note though that, through it all, many people — ordinary, little people have largely managed to keep their heads down and their spirits up. They were born and lived and died in spite of the hostilities swirling around them. Backed into their small corner, they were content to be simply known — to flourish and wither, unrenowned, where they were planted. Millennia of experience in cooperative society had taught them give and take — the self-interested regard for everyone else’s well being that allowed them to flourish. They were loathe to disrupt shalom with hostility.

It is in the fine print of the story of civilization that we find ourselves — the unsung foot soldiers of larger narratives. We who live, laugh and love; learn, labour and create; marry and nurture, before finally taking our leave — we are the purveyors of joy, of ‘lebensfreude’. We lay claim to the enjoyment of God Creator — to the common, grace filled inheritance that is central to our being and history’s unfolding. To have kept at this, in spite of the disasters and corruption that afflict us, is all the more remarkable.

“Keep calm, carry on.” “Eat, drink and find satisfaction.” “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” Who can argue with the resolve of humanity, through time immemorial, to live life just one day at a time, even in the face of overwhelming troubles and deep distress. Yes, some may have peace for a time, or two times, but the battle is never far from our gates.

On the left and the right, in the cyber heights and depths, out of the upper and lower crusts they come, striding to their postures — pompous forces bent on asserting their utopias, whether noble or greedily grasping. Those in the middle get caught in the crossfire and are pushed to take sides — to fall in line. But the Kingdom is not to be taken by force, and we — citizens of a sizable middledom — must rely, simply, on each other, ourselves and our witness to forge a more peaceful coexistence.

So where then shall we stand? Neither to the left or to the right, but feet feeling their way carefully through the middle, between the past and the future, between the good and the bad, between certainty and doubt, between success and failure, between acceptance and rejection. As we wade through the shallows of morality, we do not claim some innate superiority that gives ‘us’ the right to declare ‘them’ wrong. We see ourselves all as cracked vessels, deserving of love, not hate, friendship not enmity, meeting each other somewhere in the middle of the muddle.

It is better for us not to be arrogant assailants or their bitter victims, for we do not live “as those who have no hope.” God willing, we do what we can, for ourselves and for others, to wrestle against outrageous fortune, principalities and powers — making do, doing justice and loving mercy. But we walk humbly — we will not overcome. We will not bring the world to heel. That Revelation we know.

The Age of Aquarius has made a grand entrance, stage left, but it has run aground on rocky shoals — no match at all for the murky darkness of greed, politics and power. It is better to live in the Light of another dawn, where every nook and cranny is made known by letting the Son shine in.