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.

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. Visions of utopia have morphed into myopia.

Still, the boom refuses to go bust. And now the teeming collectives, in their passion for change, reject our heritage and our principles — dividing us up and expecting nothing short of upheaval. Deconstruction has been declared, and the Charter has taken flight.

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. But while 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. 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, but always seeking to succeed, or at least survive. And through it all, most people — ordinary, little people prevailed. They were born and lived and died in spite of it all, backed into their small corner, to be simply known but not renowned — to flourish (and wither) where they were planted.

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. Those in the middle get caught in the crossfire and are pushed to take sides. But the Kingdom is not to be taken by force, and we — citizens of a sizable middledom — have only our selves and our witness to put forward, secure in the knowledge that God’s strength lies in our weakness.

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.

Not for us, to be assailants or 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 the Son shining in.