Chapter 11 revisits the key themes of this book’s chapters in light of questions about what should and could be done to make land use in the United States racially just. Even though the book begins with the intransigence of deeply embedded racial inequities in American land use, this last chapter turns to themes of hope and potential for a racial-justice transformation. First, the history of grassroots anti-racism activism is instructive for how the next generations of activists can work effectively for transformative change in the land use systems. Second, a substantive anti-subordination theory of the law can make a difference if it influences not only legal doctrines adopted by the courts but also the restructuring of land-use institutions, including private-market systems. Third, public policy reforms must be multi-faceted and aimed at systemic change, supported by evidence and advocacy. The chapter concludes with hopeful thoughts about how a Third Reconstruction could change the trajectory of “the monstrous and evil story” of “racism, power, wealth, and land throughout the nation’s history.”

This chapter brings into conversation two powerful, imbricated forces in contemporary Nigeria: the dramatic rise in fundamentalist religious Christian and Islamic formations that place hope and prosperity in the afterlife, and the proliferation of community-based technology projects that offer ordinary victims and survivors the power of data as a way to make sense of past and future violence. The chapter argues that these trends are imbricated both with one another and with the history of colonialism from earlier periods to the contemporary moment. The chapter raises questions about the extent to which this Nigerian case study foreshadows a more global shift away from long established (western) authorities – in particular, the law and the nation-state – and toward futures where more and more people could turn toward a kind of moral and political vigilantism, taking the tools for creating hope and meaning (back) into their own hands.

In his chapter, Gregory Castle explores the cultural need for heroism expressed by W. B. Yeats and Alice Milligan at a time (the first decade of the twentieth century) when hope for the future was an explicit component of revivalist discourse across the arts and the political spectrum. Yeats’s In the Seven Woods (1903) offers a vision of legendary and contemporary heroism in which love and desire are transformed in a process in which the experience of beauty and its loss, as well as the representation of this experience, become heroic endeavors. In Milligan’s Hero Lays (1908), heroism does not rely on a transposition of love into the context of heroism. Rather, her vision is informed by political activism; her poems mine the ancient legends for a model of heroic action that would be suitable for the nationalist cause of her own time. For both poets, the heroic ethos of the legendary past is sustained as part of the contemporary poet’s bardic responsibility.

Offering a message of hope and resilience, reflections from climate advocates emphasise the possibility of limiting global warming and mitigating its impacts. Renato Redentor Constantino, senior advisor to the CVF-V20, calls for innovative financial solutions and increased international cooperation to support vulnerable economies. Indigenous voices, such as Victor Yalanda from Colombia, stress the importance of preserving traditional knowledge and protecting natural resources. Nakeeyat Dramani Sam from Ghana underscores the urgency of immediate action to safeguard the future for young people. The chapter calls on governments, businesses, and individuals to take decisive action now. The critical role of international agreements like the Paris Agreement is underlined. A powerful call to action urges all stakeholders to seize the remaining opportunities to protect the planet and ensure a sustainable future. United efforts can still create a world where people and the planet thrive amidst climate challenges – if we act fast.

This section examines planning for missions after Curiosity, including the process of landing site selection. It depicts the activities of NASA’s InSight lander and Perseverance rover, China’s Tianwen-1 lander and Zhurong rover, and orbiting spacecraft including MAVEN, Hope and the Trace Gas Orbiter. Plans for future human exploration of Mars are presented as they were imagined in this period.

A survey of spacecraft results and mission planning for the Martian satellites, Phobos and Deimos, since 2014. Images and other observations by many spacecraft are included, as well as plans for future missions.

Chapter V develops the analyses of Chapters III and IV through a close reading of one of the most problematic passages of The Lord of the Rings, namely the fall of Gandalf in Moria and his following return. With the help of Tolkien’s own (elusive) exegesis of the passage, the chapter reveals that this narrative event embodies two key meta-literary motives recurrent in his mythology. First is sub-creative submission, featuring the sub-creator’s humble decision to hand over their sub-creations to the supreme “Writer of the Story” (the Godhead Eru) and affirm their “naked hope” in Him. This is followed by the direct, miraculous intervention of Eru, which interferes with the ontology of sub-creations, disrupting “the Rules” of their secondary world; in this particular, Eru’s intrusion transcends the intentions of Gandalf and his divine authorities – the Valar, the archetypical secondary sub-creators – and results in the enhancement of their plans, and their eventual integration within a higher creative project.

In conclusion, Mike acknowledges the enormity of the challenges ahead and the potential struggles the future holds. He also shares what gives him hope and that effective action on climate and other key issues could be just around the corner. The chapter finishes with a checklist of what the reader can do on an individual level, in many areas of their lives, to be part of the change that is so urgently needed.

This loosely argued manifesto contains some suggestions regarding what the philosophy of religion might become in the twenty-first century. It was written for a brainstorming workshop over a decade ago, and some of the recommendations and predictions it contains have already been partly actualized (that’s why it is now a bit "untimely"). The goal is to sketch three aspects of a salutary “liturgical turn” in philosophy of religion. (Note: “liturgy” here refers very broadly to communal religious service and experience generally, not anything specifically “high church.”) The first involves the attitudes that characterize what I call the “liturgical stance" towards various doctrines. The second focuses on the “vested” propositional objects of those attitudes. The third looks at how those doctrines are represented, evoked, and embodied in liturgical contexts. My untimely rallying-cry is that younger philosophers of religion might do well to set aside debates regarding knowledge and justified belief, just as their elders set aside debates regarding religious language. When we set aside knowledge in this way, we make room for discussions of faith that in turn shed light on neglected but philosophically interesting aspects of lived religious practice.

As proclaimed by the churches, Jesus of Nazareth is the key to unlocking the depth and breadth of the Christian faith. Jesus’s relations to God and to the Holy Spirit ground his potential relation to every human being. As a consequence of his identity, to be unveiled in theology, Christ illuminates a whole set of questions at the frontier of the Creed: among others the openness of human nature to God, the relationship between the human and the divine, the paradox of the singular and the universal, the unity of matter and life, the challenge of hope among historical ordeals. Christ offers a new understanding, not only of the core issues of the Christian faith but also of the present moment of each believer and of what is truly definitive facing God.

In Chapter 9, I discuss the next two chapters of the Itinerarium (Chapters 3 and 4), those that correspond to the second pair of the Seraph’s wings, those around the angel’s body. These represent the vision of God we get from looking at the image we find of God “inside” us in our intellectual powers — those made possible by reason alone (such as memory, understanding, and will) and those infused by grace (such as faith, hope, and love). I show why these two chapters are the most complex and difficult in the entire book.

One of Isaiah’s most forceful messages concerns justice, and the sociopolitical conditions necessary to support it. In “The Ethical and Political Vision of Isaiah,” M. Daniel Carroll R. looks at the fundamental themes and vocabulary of the book’s moral vision and surveys approaches that seek to better understand the socioeconomic injustice and politics it condemns. These sins include the greed and malfeasance of governing elites in ancient Judahite society, systemic socioeconomic abuses of agricultural and trade systems, and decisions leading to catastrophic war. At the same time, this prophetic text looks forward to a messianic age of justice and peace under a Spirit-filled king/servant. In closing, Carroll R. looks at how Isaiah’s ethical messages have been received (and resisted) in the pursuit of justice, peace, and ecology.

The Conclusion draws together the themes of the book, and expands on how the foregoing discussions of art relate to ordinary life and love. Expanding the categories of ‘finding’ and ‘making’ by that of ‘receiving’, it sketches a constructive vision of the theological imagination.