“To want something to happen or be true and think that
it could happen or be true.” That is the
definition of the idea of hope, as defined by Webster’s dictionary. If I were to be a cynic, as sometimes I am, I
would define hope as “willfully believing in something that you know will not
come to pass.” The latter is a decidedly
a more dreary and pessimistic outlook on life.
Even in the good times, you are just waiting for the hammer to
fall. Happiness, any sense of joy is but
a fleeting delusion. Not the most
satisfying definition to be sure. Yet I
think that the former definition, while sunnier, is not satisfying to me
either. I think there is something
deeper at work when we hope.
On one level, Webster’s is very much correct in
defining hope. For instance, when I meet
a friend for a beer, I hope that what follows is good conversation. When I get up in the morning and the Lord
sends me on my way, I hope to arrive there safely. In school, when I neglected to do the reading
the night before, I certainly hoped the professor would not call on me to frame
our discussion for the day! As a sports
fan, I often hope my team will win. In
the case of the Detroit Lions, that hope is often dashed by the end of the
first quarter. One could also hope for
something to go well. For instance, every
day that I take a job as a substitute teacher, I hope to have a great day. More long term, I hope that I have taken up a
position as a youth pastor come this fall, closing an advent season of life.
Yet there is something deeper at work I think when it
comes to the very idea of hope. While there
is merit to the surface level, everyday hopes, and I certainly don’t want to
undervalue that. I have found that hope
is one of the key attributes in living the Christian life on a deeper level. Those others being faith and love, of which
we know that love is the greatest, the queen if you will. Yet that makes faith and hope the treasured
daughters.
Those that know me well, know I am proud to have gone
to a college called Hope. I wear my Hope
College pride on my sleeve. The Dean of
the Chapel would often remind us students, that Hope was an excellent name for
a college. It taught me that to hope for
something is an act of faith. Hope’s
history has reflected that in the last 150 years. Hope was founded by Dutch immigrants fleeing
persecution, looking to educate their children, hoping for a better future for
them. “This is my anchor of Hope for
this people in the future” spoke Albertus C. Van Raalte, on the occasion of the
founding of the college. Hope is a deep
seated optimism. It is a trust and a
building for the future. It is why we
plan great things from small things, even if we will not live to see them to
fruition. Many decades later, Hope is a
thriving, though tiny college in a sleepy little town on Lake Michigan. It is the 1920’s and the college of around
400 students has outgrown its chapel and needs to build a new one. Rather than build a modest new structure,
able to fit the immediate needs of the college, President Dimnent, had a vision
of a massive edifice that would one day be filled to the brim with a standing
room only crowd. What came of this
vision was the Neo-Gothic chapel that now graces the well-manicured lawns of
the college, seating around 1,200 or more, opening in the depths of economic
depression. This act of faith came at
great cost, as it is believed President Dimnent footed a large portion of the
bill himself. History has proven his
vision true, for today the chapel rings with the sweet melodies of students
gathering in worship, often with a standing room only crowd. Yet at the time, he had but a vision of hope
that he chose to follow in faith, not knowing if he would ever see that vision
fulfilled. I wonder if many locals
privately snickered at “Dimnent’s Folly” at the time, practical Dutch folks shaking
their heads at such heedless waste over morning coffee at the local diner.
To hope for something is a great act of courage. Going to the biblical account of Abraham, God
called Abraham out of that which he had known, for the foreign and alien. God called Abraham to move into the land
promised for him and his descendants.
Though he would never obtain the promise, he set out in faith and in
hope, come what may. I also think of the
story of Moses, whose mother hid him in a basket on the Nile when he was but a
babe, hoping beyond hope that he would come to a better end than Pharaoh’s
designs. What about Hannah? Praying and hoping for a child, that child being
Samuel. What about the woman who had
been bleeding for twelve years? In spite
of years of “miracle” cures that turned out to not be so miraculous, she never
gave up hope. Having the nerve to touch
the fringe of Jesus’ cloak. Her faith,
born of hope and not a small amount of desperation, made her well. In each of these stories, courage was
present. It was a courage born out of
hope and faith.
Hope is defined by expectation. Contrary to Webster, hope is not merely wanting a thing to happen, but it is expecting that thing to happen. I follow the church calendar, something that
many Reformed folks do not always observe as closely. Yet if we do follow the calendar, we note
that the New Year for the church begins a month earlier than that of the
secular calendar. The beginning of the church
year is marked as a season of reflection and introspection. It reminds us that just as ancient Israel
waited for the coming of Messiah, so too we as Christians wait in expectant
hope in the twilight just before the dawn of a new age, when Christ will
return. Advent is a season of longing in
hope, knowing that soon it shall come to pass, that restoration and wholeness
will be at hand. Hope reminds us that
though we live in an age of hurt and parting, sadness and despair, there is a
coming day when wholeness is at hand.
Hope sustains us in that waiting. It helps us to get out of bed on those
mornings that are so bleak it seems like there is no point. It gives us reason for living, for planning
ahead for the future. I know that
personally I have traveled through a wilderness valley of my own. It has been hope for a brighter future that
has kept me walking, even on days in which I just wanted to lay in bed. My time at a church in Illinois a couple
summers ago was a wilderness experience, it was not a happy time. It was a time of loneliness and despair,
though you might not have seen it to look at me. I came home feeling broken and brought
low. Clinging fiercely to hope, a
reminder that I have a purpose, helped to sustain me during that time. It sustains me now as I am still waiting to
find my niche, my place to belong, and I expect that soon to come to pass.
To be absent of hope, is to be impoverished in the
soul. Hope gives us purpose and helps
see us through the events of life that are not so enjoyable. Life lived without hope is one that is
without purpose or meaning. Life lived
with hope, gives us an impetus to plan for the future. To take risks. To build great things and dare greatly. To fight for our own little corner of
creation, making it better when we leave it than when we found it. It is a personal and corporate rebellion
against the darkness in our world, boldly proclaiming that darkness cannot
overcome the light.
I think it is safe to say that we could continue to talk
about the merits of hope, and go ever deeper into the well of that
subject. For the Christian, and indeed
for the human being, hope is not some flighty idea of fancy. It is a bedrock value that gives us a purpose
and a reason for being. It is a bulwark
against the darkness in our world that heralds the supposed triumph of the
night. It is that fringe of light in the
morning twilight that promises a new dawn.
