On Hope

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love

For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith

But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

T. S. Eliot, East Coker III

          This lesson is one I find myself having to learn over and over and over. Again and again I find myself placing my hope on earthly things and their promises of happiness; in doing so, my gaze is turned from my hope in Christ and the true happiness that arises from being in Him. But such hope is not truly hope; as with the others, the theological virtue of hope is inseparable from the rest. Hebrews 11:1 states, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” The Greek work translated “substance,” ὑπóστασις, means “real being” or “assurance.” This is why true hope is anchored in true faith, for if hope is based on something that does not have real being or for which there is no assurance, than that hope can be dashed. Proverbs 13:12 warns “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick:  but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.”

          So, once again, I find myself heartsick merely a week after my college graduation. A “hope” which I had been looking to for more than the last half of my final semester failed to come to pass. The funny thing is that I did not even believe it would happen until the very last minute when there actually was “assurance.” Being disordered in my loves for so long, I had often hoped in vain; I was not ready to go down that road again. But this time there was something more – despite my unbelief, everything had fallen into place. I began to hope, and hope gave way to reality. But my hope for happiness had been, yet again, turned from Christ and toward my external circumstance. But God was not ready to let me alone; this has actually been the defining element of this particular friendship, and once again this misplaced hope failed.

          C. S. Lewis writes in The Problem of Pain that 

          What would really satisfy us would be a God who said of anything we happened to like,
          "What does it matter so long as they are contented?" We want, in fact, not so much a
          Father in Heaven as a grandfather in heaven — a senile benevolence who, as they say,
          "liked to see young people enjoying themselves" and whose plan for the universe was
          simply that it might be truly said at the end of each day, "a good time was had by all". 

What is really pathetic in this desire is that “God is that, than which nothing greater can be conceived (St. Anselm, Proslogion, II);” when I desire something other than God, or desire God to be (or act) other than He is, I am desiring something lesser than that which I already possess. But God, being supremely loving, wills to give me the more perfect gift of Himself; “Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness (Lewis, Problem of Pain).” The same thing happens with my hopes; God, in love, is unwilling to let me attempt to sustain myself (though bound to fail) on lesser hopes. “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world. (Ibid.)” So God allows those false hopes to be dashed so that I can freely blunder my way to Him. This heartsickness, coming from deferred hope, is necessary as a potential if free will exists; free will is necessary if love is to exist. “Try to exclude the possibility of suffering which the order of nature and the existence of free-wills involve, and you find that you have excluded life itself. (Ibid.)” Having free will means that I am able to choose to love and hope for lesser things than God, but having free will means I am able to love Him in the only way love can have meaning. In Lamentations 3, the writer notes this relationship between dashed hopes and the return of our gaze to God.

And thou hast removed my soul far off from peace:  I forgat prosperity. And I said, My strength and my hope is perished from the LORD: Remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall. My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me. This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. The LORD is my portion, saith my soul;  therefore will I hope in him. The LORD is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD (17-26). 

          What then is the nature of true hope? True hope is hope for unseen and unactualized reality. Romans 8:24-25 states, “For we are saved by hope:  but hope that is seen is not hope:  for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.” This hope is not in expectation of earthly happiness (though that will be thrown in as well), but in the promises of God. “My soul fainteth for thy salvation:  but I hope in thy word….Thou art my hiding place and my shield:  I hope in thy word (Psalm 119:81, 114).”

          St. Thomas Aquinas distinguishes hope from fear, joy, desire, and despair. Hope is concerned with the good, while fear is concerned with evil. Joy is the experience of present good; hope is the expectation of future good. Hope is distinguished from desire in the difficulty of obtaining its end; man does not hope for what he is able to reach out and possess. Finally, because hope is based in something that is obtainable, it is different than despair which looks at the impossible. Hope is an appetitive power resulting from the apprehension of a future good (Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I-II, q. 40, a.1,2) This hope is a cause of our love for God.

Because by the very fact that we hope that good will accrue to us through someone, we are moved towards him as to our own good; and thus we begin to love him. Whereas from the fact that we love someone we do not hope in him, except accidentally, that is, in so far as we think that he returns our love. Wherefore the fact of being loved by another makes us hope in him; but our love for him is caused by the hope we have in him (Ibid., a.7). 

As well as love, hope inspires action. It inspires action because of its object which is a possible but difficult good; its difficulty catches man’s attention and makes his actions intentional. Hope, because it is directed toward good, causes pleasure – this too helps action (Ibid., a.8). This hope, if virtuous, is grounded in the promises of God. “Wherefore, in so far as we hope for anything as being possible to us by means of the Divine assistance, our hope attains God Himself, on Whose help it leans. It is therefore evident that hope is a virtue, since it causes a human act to be good and to attain its due rule (Ibid., II-II, q. 17, a. 1).”

          God promises me fulfillment despite, and through, the sufferings and anguish of this life. Job speaks of his hope, “For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground; Yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant (14:7).” Job’s friend, Zophar, offers this advice:

If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine hands toward him; If iniquity be in thine hand, put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in thy tabernacles. For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot;  yea, thou shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear: Because thou shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters that pass away: And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday;  thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning. And thou shalt be secure, because there is hope;  yea, thou shalt dig about thee, and thou shalt take thy rest in safety. Also thou shalt lie down, and none shall make thee afraid; yea, many shall make suit unto thee (Job, 11:13-19). 

While his words are true, Job speaks of the difficulty of abiding in that hope. “But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you:  yea, who knoweth not such things as these?...Lo, mine eye hath seen all this, mine ear hath heard and understood it. What ye know, the same do I know also:  I am not inferior unto you. Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God (12:3, 13:1-3).” He desires, despite his knowledge of God’s justice and power to question God as to the reasons for his suffering.

          Elihu, the young man who alone is not rebuked by God, advises Job to ground his hope in the person of God. “Therefore hearken unto me, ye men of understanding:  far be it from God, that he should do wickedness; and from the Almighty, that he should commit iniquity. For the work of a man shall he render unto him, and cause every man to find according to his ways. Yea, surely God will not do wickedly, neither will the Almighty pervert judgment (Job 34:10).” Later, he hits at the root of Job’s desire to question God – his pride and lack of faith – “Thinkest thou this to be right, that thou saidst, My righteousness is more than God's?...Behold, God is great, and we know him not, neither can the number of his years be searched out. (Job 35:2, 36:26).” Faith is the foundation of hope; without faith in the goodness of God, there is no ground for hope. In the following chapters, God repeats the argument made by Elihu asking again and again if Job has quite so much understanding as he thought he had. Job replies, “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear:  but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes (Job 42: 5-6).”

          To the Israelites who in captivity suffered for their sin and lack of faith God gave a promise of hope. Jeremiah records, “Thus saith the LORD;  Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears:  for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the LORD;  and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the LORD, that thy children shall come again to their own border (31:16-17).” It is because my end rests with God that I can have peace.

          The redemptive work of Christ brings a hope far greater than the return home from captivity; rather it is a return to the true Home from the most debasing and debilitating captivity. Again, this hope is in the unseen promise of God, and its security is based in His person, 

Wherein God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath: That by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil; Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec (Hebrews 6:17-20). 

The object of hope is eternal happiness found in God. St. Thomas comments on this passage: 

Wherefore the good which we ought to hope for from God properly and chiefly is the infinite good, which is proportionate to the power of our divine helper, since it belongs to an infinite power to lead anyone to an infinite good. Such a good is eternal life, which consists in the enjoyment of God Himself. For we should hope from Him for nothing less than Himself, since His goodness, whereby He imparts good things to His creature, is no less than His Essence. Therefore the proper and principal object of hope is eternal happiness (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 17, a. 2). 

God is my only surety and the only sure foundation for my hope; if I anchor my soul to anything else, I will become heartsick or, in prosperity, estranged from God. Faith in God, then, precedes hope.

          Thus faith in God must precede my hope in Him. In order, therefore, that we may hope, it

          is necessary for the object of hope to be proposed to us as possible. Now the object

          of hope is, in one way, eternal  happiness,  and in another way, the Divine

          assistance…both of these are proposed to us by faith, whereby we come to know that we

          are able to obtain eternal life, and that for this purpose the Divine assistance is ready for

          us…(Ibid., a.7).

Because this hope is based in faith, I can have courage. “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD (Psalm 31:24).” Aristotle writes, “The coward, then, is a despairing sort of person; for he fears everything. The brave man, on the other hand, has the opposite disposition; for confidence is the mark of a hopeful disposition (Ethics, III.7).” Sadness and despair result from unfulfilled hope, from hoping in what is not sure or for what is impossible. When hope is grounded in the Persons of the Trinity, it is grounded on the Essence of Goodness; this hope will not fail.

          Like with brooding, sadness and despair are the result of turning away from the Essence of Goodness to something lesser, something transient, something less real. I look at myself in these moments and again question whether I have learned anything from Thomas à Kempis and Brother Lawrence; God – Christ – must be at the center of my being. When I become focused on or motivated by something else, I am cut off from happiness. And here I find myself once again sad and disappointed that a longed for blessing did not occur. But I know that I am loved of God, “that all things work together for good to them that love God (Romans 8:28),” and that God is all I need. More than that, I can look around at all the temporal blessings I possess and see that my cup runneth over. I look to that friendship itself, the meeting of two souls in pursuit of the same good. Aristotle says “We have reason to be satisfied if we can find even a few such friends (Nicomachean Ethics, IX.10.19-21).” My gaze returns to the goodness of God, my hope to its proper end; and God takes me back.

          C. S. Lewis writes about God’s acceptance of us after we stray: 

I call this Divine humility because it is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when the ship is going down under us; a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up "our own" when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud He would hardly have us on such terms: but He is not proud, He stoops to conquer, He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him, and come to Him because there is "nothing better" now to be had. 

The recognition of my own unworthiness and the mercy of God reminds me that my hope is in the Essence of Goodness. My joy returns as I am driven to my knees and “bless [God] for [my] creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all, for [His] inestimable love in the redemption of the world by [my] Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory (1928 Book of Common Prayer, “A General Thanksgiving”).” As I hope for glory, I am humbled by the blessings already given me. As I am humbled, I am made content. In contentment, I find Joy.

A prayer from Psalm 33:22
Let thy mercy, O LORD, be upon us, according as we hope in thee.