Once I heard a man give a talk on the subject of lament. He said that since the word ‘lament’ has practically disappeared from common (Christian) usage we should wonder if the practice of lament has disappeared also.
I’m not going to ask when you last heard a sermon on this topic, or were led in some kind of group lament on a Sunday morning. Rest assured, however, in many parts of our world this word and the practice it names are very real. A word has to mean something real or people won’t use it.
I find this observation about words and reality to be a helpful one, and so I would like to try it out here on another word – ‘hope’. I don’t hear the word ‘hope’ in the conversations Christians are having around me, so I wonder whether it is a significant concept to many of us.
You might well ask, “So what?” Fair enough. But I think the issue is this: if you are someone who looks to the Bible for the inspiration and transformation of our collective human experience, then we should know that, especially the New Testament letters of Peter and Paul, the Bible’s use of ‘hope’ is something very important. It represents something much more substantial than simply wishing that something will happen, like “I hope to lose another 10 pounds” etc. In fact, according to 1 Corinthians 13 (the famous ‘love chapter’) it is one of the three most important virtues Christians need in this life (the other two are faith and love in case you were wondering). So I hope you will come along with me as I briefly explore the meaning of hope. And of course, I hope it will be worth your while.
In early December I set out to prepare a sermon that would help me and the community I belong to experience the reality of Christmas more fully. I don’t know if I succeeded, but as I read the familiar birth stories of Jesus in the gospels of Matthew and Luke I was once again struck by the energetic hope the characters bring to the narrative. Whether the voice is Mary, Elizabeth, Zachariah, Simeon or Anna, each expresses a deep and abiding desire to see the future of their people take shape according to the promises God has made to them, to Israel.
These people were participating in a hope that had been growing for several hundred years prior to the birth of Jesus: a profound chemistry between the people of God who cried out under their oppression, and the prophets of God who announced the plan of God to save them. A Christian is someone whose life is lived from the core conviction Jesus became the central figure in the unfolding history of this hope.
Whether we are talking about the first Christians, or those alive today, this hope involves a great deal of waiting – waiting for the effects of this monumental history to become apparent to all. But for the waiting to be a source of strength rather than desperation an active and energetic posture is needed, otherwise we lose hope, perhaps becoming bitter at the lack of results or burned out with our efforts.
If it helps to understand what I am saying, imagine receiving many letters (i.e. snail-mail) from a favourite uncle promising a visit in the near future. The letters reveal his unwavering intention is to come, but he is unable to provide any specifics about his arrival. Real hope of his arrival, more than just a vague wish, is based on two conditions: first, whether or not you believe his promises, and second, whether or not you invest some energy in the expectation of his coming. The first condition is based on character – is the letter-writer someone you can trust? Is his character proven? The second condition depends entirely on what you do with the promises. Have you built the expectation of his arrival into the rhythm of your days, weeks, months or even years in some tangible way? People forget. Hope remembers.
Are you doing anything to remember the future you hope for? The gospel of Luke tells us that Mary treasured the events of Jesus’ birth in her heart. She treasured them. I think this helps us imagine the fact she had to wait three decades before her son did anything that resembled the incredible words spoken over the baby wrapped in cloth and laid in a manger. The promises of God often come to us this way – a profound excitement over the possibility of a good future followed by a long, slow walk towards its fulfillment. As we embark on another year perhaps you find yourself in this situation, hoping against hope for change.
May you find meaningful ways to remember the good future our faithful God has promised. And may this hope become for you a source of strength as you do the work of love in the here and now.
Dan Poxon is with the Sheep River Fellowship
