Scriptures: Isaiah 25:1-9; Psalm 23; Philippians 4:1-9; Matthew 22:1-14
The letter to the Diocesan Convention by Bishop Mark Lattime was read by Nancy Jo Bleier, Worship Leader at the Sunday service.
Aiming for a Future Worthy of Hope
2026-10-03, Bishop Mark Lattime
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”
Welcome to the 51st Convention to the Episcopal Diocese of Alaska. Here we are gathered online; together and yet dispersed. Which is not new to us. This is the third time we have held a Convention using this technology. I still remember the first time we did this. There was a lot of anxiety and opinion about it. We had a lot to learn. The online or “virtual” setting wasn’t the same, isn’t the same, as all our previous gatherings. There were things lost in this “new” way of gathering to conduct the business of the Diocese.
But we did it. And, we have grown from the experience. I continue to be inspired, and a bit awestruck, by the number of our congregations since the pandemic who continue to offer an online option for their worship. This technology has expanded our reach, connecting us with siblings in Christ around the globe, and, even, just down the street.
There is an irony, or, perhaps, a caution in this: Technology has expanded our ability to connect beyond anything many of us could have imagined 30 years ago--we are well connected, and, yet, loneliness has reached epidemic levels, and selfishness, and dare I say nihilism, are also rising to alarming levels.
Which is to say that there are a lot of troubled hearts in this well-connected world.
And what did Jesus say to his disciples about their troubled hearts, their fear for the future? He offered belief. Troubled hearts need something to believe in—a future worthy of faith and hope. Believe in God, believe also in me, Jesus says.
I have a reminder set in my calendar for October 1 that I entered 20 years ago. It popped-up just two days ago to remind me of the anniversary of my first solo as a student seeking to earn my wings. I remember that day very well. And I remember talking to myself the whole time. Watch your speed, trim, eyes outside, look at the horizon, pitch, power, eyes outside, look at the horizon.
On of the most difficult flying maneuvers to master, believe it or not, is straight and level flight. My flight instructor taught me very early in my training that the key to straight and level flight is to look at the horizon (when not in IMC). Aim for the horizon. Fly towards the future.
Which requires that you have a horizon or a future you can believe in.
When flying, if you can’t see the horizon out the window, you’re in trouble. The body gets disoriented. You need a horizon you can trust, that you can believe in. This is why aircraft have instruments to provide a horizon when flying in clouds.
Jesus gives us a horizon—a future to believe in and to hope for. As people of faith in this changing world, that is our crucial calling—our witness: to be communities that practice hope and faith in a future that nourishes life, love, and the flourishing of all humankind, a future that looks like Jesus and the Kingdom of God he made manifest in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension.
I recently read in a book by futurist Bob Johansen, Bishop Andy Doyle, and AI poet and artist Jeremy Kishbaum that made this very powerful statement about faith: “faith begins when we agree to connect with each other in search of a flourishing that none of us can enjoy on our own. It’s the choice to recognize that one human’s future is connected to another person’s future; to regard the welfare of the community as my welfare, rather than as a consolation prize after my needs are taken care of.”
And there it is: that is the horizon that faith gives us—the thing that I believe gives us a unique and crucial role in nurturing hope for the future. Our belief or faith in Jesus is a communal faith—it is not simply a personal faith. Belief in God and belief in Jesus binds us together as a body—a community that discerns that the future—the horizon that guides us is the Kingdom of God revealed in Jesus of Nazareth. It is a horizon, a future, where there is flourishing for everyone, all creatures, and even this good earth.
That is a future and a horizon worthy of our witness. But more, it is a future worthy of our best efforts, intentions, and commitments to work for as communities of living incarnate beings.
In the news recently, a former AI engineer with Anthropic, Jacob Coxon, announced the terrifying possibility that AI could acquire the power to threaten human survival by the end of the decade. Another engineer from Anthropic stated that there was a 10% chance that AI could cause human extinction within ten years.
That’s not a future worth hoping for. Indeed, it is a future without any hope at all.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying AI is all bad or evil. It can be a powerful tool to benefit humankind. My concern with AI is that it is NOT human, and the world needs a human touch—we need genuine human interaction to flourish, to hope, and to find meaning for our lives and our future. That is the message of the Incarnation: Jesus.
As the body of Christ, a community that puts into flesh and action our belief and hope in Jesus for the life of the word, we are the counter narrative to the AI world and a future without hope. To quote Pope Leo XIV, we bear the “spark” of life that a machine will never have. We also bear the image of God. That spark that exists in all life, and the image of God that we uniquely bear calls us to witness to a future worthy of hope.
My prayer, and my charge to you as my term as your bishop moves toward a close, is that this faith we share—this communal belief in Jesus and the Kingdom of God will give us clarity on how our communities--regardless of numbers, can put our faith into action; working together for a future worthy of our belief in Jesus—witnessing and working for a future that gives meaning to life.
Back in 1950, the psychoanalyst Erik Erikson introduced the term generativity—this was 6 years before the term AI was first used. And a long time and distance from what is now called “Generative AI”—the technology that AI uses to create new content like images, music, video, and computer code. Erikson, however, saw generativity as a uniquely human experience and the primary developmental task of adulthood. Generativity is the tension between creating something that will outlast us and becoming stuck, or stagnant, in self-interest. It is about bringing forth something that is greater than ourselves, that calls us beyond ourselves and serves a world and a people we may never meet.
That’s what it means to believe in Jesus. That is what it means to be truly human, to carry the spark of life and image of God, and to believe that same spark and same image of God is found in every other human and is necessary—is the pearl of greatest value for hope for the life of the world.
This is our generative moment. There is no more critical time for us to be witnesses to life and to the authentic hope for humankind as revealed in Jesus and his Gospel of love.
I am calling us to embrace an active hope for the future as authentic human beings that believe God and Jesus hold the meaning for life now and in the future.
And here’s my practical ask, the “what” I am hoping you will do: I am calling on our congregations to take a sabbath from worrying about numbers in the pews--who isn’t there, or stressing about finances, buildings, all the things that tend to occupy our thoughts about church—the self-interest stuff of church life that more than anything serves only to trouble our hearts. Lay it all aside. Believe in God, believe also in Jesus.
Instead, I want you to gather in prayer together, read scripture together, struggle together, and think about what you as a community--no matter how few, can do to contribute to the flourishing of life in the world now and in the world to come—in your household, in your community or even the world.
It could be as simple as personal commitment to contribute to agency committed to the relief of suffering; or working with other to start or support a feeding program once a month; or it could be something as complicated as a building project for the unhoused. I saw that Pope Leo challenged the Church to renew its alliance with artists and cultural institutions to safeguard humanity and genuine human creativity in a world of growing AI generated images and music.
Of course, you know you are doing these types of ministries already, I’m proud of the many ways our communities are serving hope for the future. Invite others into the work and into the hope and meaning it offers for the future.
Shortly you will have an opportunity to perhaps do some of this generative work in small groups. I pray that time might help you develop clarity for active acts of hope—genuine human disciplines of faith and hope for the future.
Finally, I want to take a moment of personal privilege. As you know, I have announced my resignation and have asked the Standing Committee to begin the process for the search and election of the Ninth Bishop of Alaska. You will be hearing from the Standing Committee later in this Convention about this process and how you may participate.
Serving as the bishop of Alaska has given meaning and purpose to my life. I cannot adequately express the honor, the joy, and the deep love that I hold in my heart for all of you and this land. The clergy will tell you that I often say that we are all interim ministers. The only difference is the length of time each of us serves. But regardless of the term, the ministry forms you—it becomes part of who you are. This is a precious gift I have received from you and will carry with me the rest of my days.
I have nothing but gratitude for all that has been and only great hope and excitement for the future that the Holy Spirit is already bringing into being for this Diocese. Let us embrace that future with joyful expectation. It is a future worth hoping for.
God bless you all.