Encyclical by Pope Benedict XVI

Introduction

1. "SPE SALVI facti sumus" - in hope we were saved, says Saint Paul to the Romans, and likewise to us (Rom 8:24). According to the Christian faith, "redemption" - salvation - is not simply a given. Redemption is offered to us in the sense that we have been given hope, trustworthy hope, by virtue of which we can face our present: the present, even if it is arduous, can be lived and accepted if it leads towards a goal, if we can be sure of this goal, and if this goal is great enough to justify the effort of the journey. Now the question immediately arises: what sort of hope could ever justify the statement that, on the basis of that hope and simply because it exists, we are redeemed? And what sort of certainty is involved here?

Faith is Hope

2. Before turning our attention to these timely questions, we must listen a little more closely to the Bible's testimony on hope. "Hope", in fact, is a key word in Biblical faith - so much so that in several passages the words "faith" and "hope" seem interchangeable. Thus the Letter to the Hebrews closely links the "fullness of faith" (10:22) to "the confession of our hope without wavering" (10:23). Likewise, when the First Letter of Peter exhorts Christians to be always ready to give an answer concerning the logos - the meaning and the reason - of their hope (cf. 3:15), "hope" is equivalent to "faith". We see how decisively the self-understanding of the early Christians was shaped by their having received the gift of a trustworthy hope, when we compare the Christian life with life prior to faith, or with the situation of the followers of other religions. Paul reminds the Ephesians that before their encounter with Christ they were "without hope and without God in the world" (Eph 2:12). Of course he knew they had had gods, he knew they had had a religion, but their gods had proved questionable, and no hope emerged from their contradictory myths. Notwithstanding their gods, they were "without God" and consequently found themselves in a dark world, facing a dark future. In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus (How quickly we fall back from nothing to nothing)[1]: so says an epitaph of that period. In this phrase we see in no uncertain terms the point Paul was making. In the same vein he says to the Thessalonians: you must not "grieve as others do who have no hope" (1 Th 4:13). Here too we see as a distinguishing mark of Christians the fact that they have a future: it is not that they know the details of what awaits them, but they know in general terms that their life will not end in emptiness. Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does it become possible to live the present as well. So now we can say: Christianity was not only "good news" - the communication of a hitherto unknown content. In our language we would say: the Christian message was not only "informative" but "performative". That means: the Gospel is not merely a communication of things that can be known - it is one that makes things happen and is life-changing. The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown open. The one who has hope lives differently; the one who hopes has been granted the gift of a new life.

3. Yet at this point a question arises: in what does this hope consist which, as hope, is "redemption"? The essence of the answer is given in the phrase from the Letter to the Ephesians quoted above: the Ephesians, before their encounter with Christ, were without hope because they were "without God in the world". To come to know God - the true God - means to receive hope. We who have always lived with the Christian concept of God, and have grown accustomed to it, have almost ceased to notice that we possess the hope that ensues from a real encounter with this God. The example of a saint of our time can to some degree help us understand what it means to have a real encounter with this God for the first time. I am thinking of the African Josephine Bakhita, canonized by Pope John Paul II. She was born around 1869 - she herself did not know the precise date - in Darfur in Sudan. At the age of nine, she was kidnapped by slave-traders, beaten till she bled, and sold five times in the slave-markets of Sudan. Eventually she found herself working as a slave for the mother and the wife of a general, and there she was flogged every day till she bled; as a result of this she bore 144 scars throughout her life. Finally, in 1882, she was bought by an Italian merchant for the Italian consul Callisto Legnani, who returned to Italy as the Mahdists advanced. Here, after the terrifying "masters" who had owned her up to that point, Bakhita came to know a totally different kind of "master" - in Venetian dialect, which she was now learning, she used the name "paron" for the living God, the God of Jesus Christ. Up to that time she had known only masters who despised and maltreated her, or at best considered her a useful slave. Now, however, she heard that there is a "paron" above all masters, the Lord of all lords, and that this Lord is good, goodness in person. She came to know that this Lord even knew her, that he had created her - that he actually loved her. She too was loved, and by none other than the supreme "Paron", before whom all other masters are themselves no more than lowly servants. She was known and loved and she was awaited. What is more, this master had himself accepted the destiny of being flogged and now he was waiting for her "at the Father's right hand". Now she had "hope" - no longer simply the modest hope of finding masters who would be less cruel, but the great hope: "I am definitively loved and whatever happens to me - I am awaited by this Love. And so my life is good." Through the knowledge of this hope she was "redeemed", no longer a slave, but a free child of God. She understood what Paul meant when he reminded the Ephesians that previously they were without hope and without God in the world - without hope because without God. Hence, when she was about to be taken back to Sudan, Bakhita refused; she did not wish to be separated again from her "Paron". On 9 January 1890, she was baptized and confirmed and received her first Holy Communion from the hands of the Patriarch of Venice. On 8 December 1896, in Verona, she took her vows in the Congregation of the Canossian Sisters and from that time onwards, besides her work in the sacristy and in the porter's lodge at the convent, she made several journeys round Italy in order to promote the missions: the liberation that she had received through her encounter with the God of Jesus Christ, she felt she had to extend, it had to be handed on to others, to the greatest possible number of people. The hope born in her which had "redeemed" her she could not keep to herself; this hope had to reach many, to reach everybody.

The concept of faith-based hope in the New Testament and the early Church

4. We have raised the question: can our encounter with the God who in Christ has shown us his face and opened his heart be for us too not just "informative" but "performative" - that is to say, can it change our lives, so that we know we are redeemed through the hope that it expresses? Before attempting to answer the question, let us return once more to the early Church. It is not difficult to realize that the experience of the African slave-girl Bakhita was also the experience of many in the period of nascent Christianity who were beaten and condemned to slavery. Christianity did not bring a message of social revolution like that of the ill-fated Spartacus, whose struggle led to so much bloodshed. Jesus was not Spartacus, he was not engaged in a fight for political liberation like Barabbas or Bar- Kochba. Jesus, who himself died on the Cross, brought something totally different: an encounter with the Lord of all lords, an encounter with the living God and thus an encounter with a hope stronger than the sufferings of slavery, a hope which therefore transformed life and the world from within. What was new here can be seen with the utmost clarity in Saint Paul's Letter to Philemon. This is a very personal letter, which Paul wrote from prison and entrusted to the runaway slave Onesimus for his master, Philemon. Yes, Paul is sending the slave back to the master from whom he had fled, not ordering but asking: "I appeal to you for my child ... whose father I have become in my imprisonment ... I am sending him back to you, sending my very heart ... perhaps this is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back for ever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, as a beloved brother ..." (Philem 10-16). Those who, as far as their civil status is concerned, stand in relation to one an other as masters and slaves, inasmuch as they are members of the one Church have become brothers and sisters - this is how Christians addressed one another. By virtue of their Baptism they had been reborn, they had been given to drink of the same Spirit and they received the Body of the Lord together, alongside one another. Even if external structures remained unaltered, this changed society from within. When the Letter to the Hebrews says that Christians here on earth do not have a permanent homeland, but seek one which lies in the future (cf. Heb 11:13-16; Phil 3:20), this does not mean for one moment that they live only for the future: present society is recognized by Christians as an exile; they belong to a new society which is the goal of their common pilgrimage and which is anticipated in the course of that pilgrimage.

5. We must add a further point of view. The First Letter to the Corinthians (1:18-31) tells us that many of the early Christians belonged to the lower social strata, and precisely for this reason were open to the experience of new hope, as we saw in the example of Bakhita. Yet from the beginning there were also conversions in the aristocratic and cultured circles, since they too were living "without hope and without God in the world". Myth had lost its credibility; the Roman State religion had become fossilized into simple ceremony which was scrupulously carried out, but by then it was merely "political religion". Philosophical rationalism had confined the gods within the realm of unreality. The Divine was seen in various ways in cosmic forces, but a God to whom one could pray did not exist. Paul illustrates the essential problem of the religion of that time quite accurately when he contrasts life "according to Christ" with life under the dominion of the "elemental spirits of the universe" (Col 2:8). In this regard a text by Saint Gregory Nazianzen is enlightening. He says that at the very moment when the Magi, guided by the star, adored Christ the new king, astrology came to an end, because the stars were now moving in the orbit determined by Christ[2]. This scene, in fact, overturns the world-view of that time, which in a different way has become fashionable once again today. It is not the elemental spirits of the universe, the laws of matter, which ultimately govern the world and mankind, but a personal God governs the stars, that is, the universe; it is not the laws of matter and of evolution that have the final say, but reason, will, love - a Person. And if we know this Person and he knows us, then truly the inexorable power of material elements no longer has the last word; we are not slaves of the universe and of its laws, we are free. In ancient times, honest enquiring minds were aware of this. Heaven is not empty. Life is not a simple product of laws and the randomness of matter, but within everything and at the same time above everything, there is a personal will, there is a Spirit who in Jesus has revealed himself as Love[3].

6. The sarcophagi of the early Christian era illustrate this concept visually - in the context of death, in the face of which the question concerning life's meaning becomes unavoidable. The figure of Christ is interpreted on ancient sarcophagi principally by two images: the philosopher and the shepherd. Philosophy at that time was not generally seen as a difficult academic discipline, as it is today. Rather, the philosopher was someone who knew how to teach the essential art: the art of being authentically human - the art of living and dying. To be sure, it had long since been realized that many of the people who went around pretending to be philosophers, teachers of life, were just charlatans who made money through their words, while having nothing to say about real life. All the more, then, the true philosopher who really did know how to point out the path of life was highly sought after. Towards the end of the third century, on the sarcophagus of a child in Rome, we find for the first time, in the context of the resurrection of Lazarus, the figure of Christ as the true philosopher, holding the Gospel in one hand and the philosopher's travelling staff in the other. With his staff, he conquers death; the Gospel brings the truth that itinerant philosophers had searched for in vain. In this image, which then became a common feature of sarcophagus art for a long time, we see clearly what both educated and simple people found in Christ: he tells us who man truly is and what a man must do in order to be truly human. He shows us the way, and this way is the truth. He himself is both the way and the truth, and therefore he is also the life which all of us are seeking. He also shows us the way beyond death; only someone able to do this is a true teacher of life. The same thing becomes visible in the image of the shepherd. As in the representation of the philosopher, so too through the figure of the shepherd the early Church could identify with existing models of Roman art. There the shepherd was generally an expression of the dream of a tranquil and simple life, for which the people, amid the confusion of the big cities, felt a certain longing. Now the image was read as part of a new scenario which gave it a deeper content: "The Lord is my shepherd: I shall not want ... Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, because you are with me ..." (Ps 23 [22]:1, 4). The true shepherd is one who knows even the path that passes through the valley of death; one who walks with me even on the path of final solitude, where no one can accompany me, guiding me through: he himself has walked this path, he has descended into the kingdom of death, he has conquered death, and he has returned to accompany us now and to give us the certainty that, together with him, we can find a way through. The realization that there is One who even in death accompanies me, and with his "rod and his staff comforts me", so that "I fear no evil" (cf. Ps 23 [22]:4) - this was the new "hope" that arose over the life of believer.

7. We must return once more to the New Testament. In the eleventh chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews (v. 1) we find a kind of definition of faith which closely links this virtue with hope. Ever since the Reformation there has been a dispute among exegetes over the central word of this phrase, but today a way towards a common interpretation seems to be opening up once more. For the time being I shall leave this central word untranslated. The sentence therefore reads as follows: "Faith is the hypostasis of things hoped for; the proof of things not seen". For the Fathers and for the theologians of the Middle Ages, it was clear that the Greek word hypostasis was to be rendered in Latin with the term substantia. The Latin translation of the text produced at the time of the early Church therefore reads: Est autem fides sperandarum substantia rerum, argumentum non apparentium - faith is the "substance" of things hoped for; the proof of things not seen. Saint Thomas Aquinas[4], using the terminology of the philosophical tradition to which he belonged, explains it as follows: faith is a habitus, that is, a stable disposition of the spirit, through which eternal life takes root in us and reason is led to consent to what it does not see. The concept of "substance" is therefore modified in the sense that through faith, in a tentative way, or as we might say "in embryo" - and thus according to the "substance" - there are already present in us the things that are hoped for: the whole, true life. And precisely because the thing itself is already present, this presence of what is to come also creates certainty: this "thing" which must come is not yet visible in the external world (it does not "appear"), but because of the fact that, as an initial and dynamic reality, we carry it within us, a certain perception of it has even now come into existence. To Luther, who was not particularly fond of the Letter to the Hebrews, the concept of "substance", in the context of his view of faith, meant nothing. For this reason he understood the term hypostasis/substance not in the objective sense (of a reality present within us), but in the subjective sense, as an expression of an interior attitude, and so, naturally, he also had to understand the term argumentum as a disposition of the subject. In the twentieth century this interpretation became prevalent - at least in Germany - in Catholic exegesis too, so that the ecumenical translation into German of the New Testament, approved by the Bishops, reads as follows: Glaube aber ist: Feststehen in dem, was man erhofft, Überzeugtsein von dem, was man nicht sieht (faith is: standing firm in what one hopes, being convinced of what one does not see). This in itself is not incorrect, but it is not the meaning of the text, because the Greek term used (elenchos) does not have the subjective sense of "conviction" but the objective sense of "proof". Rightly, therefore, recent Prot- estant exegesis has arrived at a different interpretation: "Yet there can be no question but that this classical Protestant understanding is untenable"[5]. Faith is not merely a personal reaching out towards things to come that are still totally absent: it gives us something. It gives us even now something of the reality we are waiting for, and this present reality constitutes for us a "proof" of the things that are still unseen. Faith draws the future into the present, so that it is no longer simply a "not yet". The fact that this future exists changes the present; the present is touched by the future reality, and thus the things of the future spill over into those of the present and those of the present into those of the future.

8. This explanation is further strengthened and related to daily life if we consider verse 34 of the tenth chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews, which is linked by vocabulary and content to this definition of hope-filled faith and prepares the way for it. Here the author speaks to believers who have undergone the experience of persecution and he says to them: "you had compassion on the prisoners, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property (hyparchonton - Vg. bonorum), since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession (hyparxin - Vg. substantiam) and an abiding one." Hyparchonta refers to property, to what in earthly life constitutes the means of support, indeed the basis, the "substance" for life, what we depend upon. This "substance", life's normal source of security, has been taken away from Christians in the course of persecution. They have stood firm, though, because they considered this material substance to be of little account. They could abandon it because they had found a better "basis" for their existence - a basis that abides, that no one can take away. We must not overlook the link between these two types of "substance", between means of support or material basis and the word of faith as the "basis", the "substance" that endures. Faith gives life a new basis, a new foundation on which we can stand, one which relativizes the habitual foundation, the reliability of material income. A new freedom is created with regard to this habitual foundation of life, which only appears to be capable of providing support, although this is obviously not to deny its normal meaning. This new freedom, the awareness of the new "substance" which we have been given, is revealed not only in martyrdom, in which people resist the overbearing power of ideology and its political organs and, by their death, renew the world. Above all, it is seen in the great acts of renunciation, from the monks of ancient times to Saint Francis of Assisi and those of our contemporaries who enter modern religious Institutes and movements and leave everything for love of Christ, so as to bring to men and women the faith and love of Christ, and to help those who are suffering in body and spirit. In their case, the new "substance" has proved to be a genuine "substance"; from the hope of these people who have been touched by Christ, hope has arisen for others who were living in darkness and without hope. In their case, it has been demonstrated that this new life truly possesses and is "substance" that calls forth life for others. For us who contemplate these figures, their way of acting and living is de facto a "proof" that the things to come, the promise of Christ, are not only a reality that we await, but a real presence: he is truly the "philosopher" and the "shepherd" who shows us what life is and where it is to be found.

9. In order to understand more deeply this reflection on the two types of substance - hypostasis and hyparchonta - and on the two approaches to life expressed by these terms, we must continue with a brief consideration of two words pertinent to the discussion which can be found in the tenth chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews. I refer to the words hypomone (10:36) and hypostole (10:39). Hypo- mone is normally translated as "patience" - perseverance, constancy. Knowing how to wait, while patiently enduring trials, is necessary for the believer to be able to "receive what is promised" (10:36). In the religious context of ancient Judaism, this word was used expressly for the expectation of God which was characteristic of Israel, for their persevering faithfulness to God on the basis of the certainty of the Covenant in a world which contradicts God. Thus the word indicates a lived hope, a life based on the certainty of hope. In the New Testament this expectation of God, this standing with God, takes on a new significance: in Christ, God has revealed himself. He has already communicated to us the "substance" of things to come, and thus the expectation of God acquires a new certainty.

It is the expectation of things to come from the perspective of a present that is already given. It is a looking-forward in Christ's presence, with Christ who is present, to the perfecting of his Body, to his definitive coming. The word hypostole, on the other hand, means shrinking back through lack of courage to speak openly and frankly a truth that may be dangerous. Hiding through a spirit of fear leads to "destruction" (Heb 10:39). "God did not give us a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control" - that, by contrast, is the beautiful way in which the Second Letter to Timothy (1:7) describes the fundamental attitude of the Christian.

Eternal life – what is it?

10. We have spoken thus far of faith and hope in the New Testament and in early Christianity; yet it has always been clear that we are referring not only to the past: the entire reflection concerns living and dying in general, and therefore it also concerns us here and now. So now we must ask explicitly: is the Christian faith also for us today a life-changing and life-sustaining hope?

Is it "performative" for us - is it a message which shapes our life in a new way, or is it just "information" which, in the meantime, we have set aside and which now seems to us to have been superseded by more recent information? In the search for an answer, I would like to begin with the classical form of the dialogue with which the rite of Baptism expressed the reception of an infant into the community of believers and the infant's rebirth in Christ. First of all the priest asked what name the parents had chosen for the child, and then he continued with the question: "What do you ask of the Church?" Answer: "Faith". "And what does faith give you?" "Eternal life". According to this dialogue, the parents were seeking access to the faith for their child, communion with believers, because they saw in faith the key to "eternal life". Today as in the past, this is what being baptized, becoming Christians, is all about: it is not just an act of socialization within the community, not simply a welcome into the Church. The parents expect more for the one to be baptized: they expect that faith, which includes the corporeal nature of the Church and her sacraments, will give life to their child - eternal life. Faith is the substance of hope. But then the question arises: do we really want this - to live eternally? Perhaps many people reject the faith today simply because they do not find the prospect of eternal life attractive. What they desire is not eternal life at all, but this present life, for which faith in eternal life seems something of an impediment. To continue living for ever - endlessly - appears more like a curse than a gift. Death, admittedly, one would wish to postpone for as long as possible. But to live always, without end - this, all things considered, can only be monotonous and ultimately unbearable. This is precisely the point made, for example, by Saint Ambrose, one of the Church Fathers, in the funeral discourse for his deceased brother Satyrus: "Death was not part of nature; it became part of nature. God did not decree death from the beginning; he prescribed it as a remedy. Human life, because of sin ... began to experience the burden of wretchedness in unremitting labour and unbearable sorrow. There had to be a limit to its evils; death had to restore what life had forfeited. Without the assistance of grace, immortality is more of a burden than a blessing"[6]. A little earlier, Ambrose had said: "Death is, then, no cause for mourning, for it is the cause of mankind's salvation"[7].

11. Whatever precisely Saint Ambrose may have meant by these words, it is true that to eliminate death or to postpone it more or less indefinitely would place the earth and humanity in an impossible situation, and even for the individual would bring no benefit. Obviously there is a contradiction in our attitude, which points to an inner contradiction in our very existence. On the one hand, we do not want to die; above all, those who love us do not want us to die. Yet on the other hand, neither do we want to continue living indefinitely, nor was the earth created with that in view. So what do we really want? Our paradoxical attitude gives rise to a deeper question: what in fact is "life"? And what does "eternity" really mean? There are moments when it suddenly seems clear to us: yes, this is what true "life" is - this is what it should be like. Besides, what we call "life" in our everyday language is not real "life" at all. Saint Augustine, in the extended letter on prayer which he addressed to Proba, a wealthy Roman widow and mother of three consuls, once wrote this: ultimately we want only one thing - "the blessed life", the life which is simply life, simply "happiness". In the final analysis, there is nothing else that we ask for in prayer. Our journey has no other goal - it is about this alone. But then Augustine also says: looking more closely, we have no idea what we ultimately desire, what we would really like. We do not know this reality at all; even in those moments when we think we can reach out and touch it, it eludes us. "We do not know what we should pray for as we ought," he says, quoting Saint Paul (Rom 8:26). All we know is that it is not this. Yet in not knowing, we know that this reality must exist. "There is therefore in us a certain learned ignorance (docta ignorantia), so to speak", he writes. We do not know what we would really like; we do not know this "true life"; and yet we know that there must be something we do not know towards which we feel driven[8].

12. I think that in this very precise and permanently valid way, Augustine is describing man's essential situation, the situation that gives rise to all his contradictions and hopes. In some way we want life itself, true life, untouched even by death; yet at the same time we do not know the thing towards which we feel driven. We cannot stop reaching out for it, and yet we know that all we can experience or accomplish is not what we yearn for. This unknown "thing" is the true "hope" which drives us, and at the same time the fact that it is unknown is the cause of all forms of despair and also of all efforts, whether positive or destructive, directed towards worldly authenticity and human authenticity. The term "eternal life" is intended to give a name to this known "unknown". Inevitably it is an inadequate term that creates confusion. "Eternal", in fact, suggests to us the idea of something interminable, and this frightens us; "life" makes us think of the life that we know and love and do not want to lose, even though very often it brings more toil than satisfaction, so that while on the one hand we desire it, on the other hand we do not want it. To imagine ourselves outside the temporality that imprisons us and in some way to sense that eternity is not an unending succession of days in the calendar, but something more like the supreme moment of satisfaction, in which totality embraces us and we embrace totality - this we can only attempt. It would be like plunging into the ocean of infinite love, a moment in which time - the before and after - no longer exists. We can only attempt to grasp the idea that such a moment is life in the full sense, a plunging ever anew into the vastness of being, in which we are simply overwhelmed with joy. This is how Jesus expresses it in Saint John's Gospel: "I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you" (16:22). We must think along these lines if we want to understand the object of Christian hope, to understand what it is that our faith, our being with Christ, leads us to expect[9].

Is Christian hope individualistic?

13. In the course of their history, Christians have tried to express this "knowing without knowing" by means of figures that can be represented, and they have developed images of "Heaven" which remain far removed from what, after all, can only be known negatively, via unknowing. All these attempts at the representation of hope have given to many people, down the centuries, the incentive to live by faith and hence also to abandon their hyparchonta, the material substance for their lives. The author of the Letter to the Hebrews, in the eleventh chapter, outlined a kind of history of those who live in hope and of their journeying, a history which stretches from the time of Abel into the author's own day. This type of hope has been subjected to an increasingly harsh critique in modern times: it is dismissed as pure individualism, a way of abandoning the world to its misery and taking refuge in a private form of eternal salvation. Henri de Lubac, in the introduction to his seminal book Catholicisme. Aspects sociaux du dogme, assembled some characteristic articulations of this viewpoint, one of which is worth quoting: "Should I have found joy? No ... only my joy, and that is something wildly different ... The joy of Jesus can be personal. It can belong to a single man and he is saved. He is at peace ... now and always, but he is alone. The isolation of this joy does not trouble him. On the contrary: he is the chosen one! In his blessedness he passes through the battlefields with a rose in his hand"[10].

14. Against this, drawing upon the vast range of patristic theology, de Lubac was able to demonstrate that salvation has always been considered a "social" reality. Indeed, the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of a "city" (cf. 11:10, 16; 12:22; 13:14) and therefore of communal salvation. Consistently with this view, sin is understood by the Fathers as the destruction of the unity of the human race, as fragmentation and division. Babel, the place where languages were confused, the place of separation, is seen to be an expression of what sin fundamentally is. Hence "redemption" appears as the reestablishment of unity, in which we come together once more in a union that begins to take shape in the world community of believers. We need not concern ourselves here with all the texts in which the social character of hope appears. Let us concentrate on the Letter to Proba in which Augustine tries to illustrate to some degree this "known unknown" that we seek. His point of departure is simply the expression "blessed life". Then he quotes Psalm 144 [143]:15: "Blessed is the people whose God is the Lord." And he continues: "In order to be numbered among this people and attain to ... everlasting life with God, ‘the end of the commandment is charity that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and sincere faith' (1 Tim 1:5)"[11]. This real life, towards which we try to reach out again and again, is linked to a lived union with a "people", and for each individual it can only be attained within this "we". It presupposes that we escape from the prison of our "I", because only in the openness of this universal subject does our gaze open out to the source of joy, to love itself - to God.

15. While this community-oriented vision of the "blessed life" is certainly directed beyond the present world, as such it also has to do with the building up of this world - in very different ways, according to the historical context and the possibilities offered or excluded thereby. At the time of Augustine, the incursions of new peoples were threatening the cohesion of the world, where hitherto there had been a certain guarantee of law and of living in a juridically ordered society; at that time, then, it was a matter of strengthening the basic foundations of this peaceful societal existence, in order to survive in a changed world. Let us now consider a more or less randomly chosen episode from the Middle Ages, that serves in many respects to illustrate what we have been saying. It was commonly thought that monasteries were places of flight from the world (contemptus mundi) and of withdrawal from responsibility for the world, in search of private salvation. Bernard of Clairvaux, who inspired a multitude of young people to enter the monasteries of his reformed Order, had quite a different perspective on this. In his view, monks perform a task for the whole Church and hence also for the world. He uses many images to illustrate the responsibility that monks have towards the entire body of the Church, and indeed towards humanity; he applies to them the words of pseudo-Rufinus: "The human race lives thanks to a few; were it not for them, the world would perish ..."[12]. Contemplatives - contemplantes - must become agricultural labourers - laborantes - he says. The nobility of work, which Christianity inherited from Judaism, had already been expressed in the monastic rules of Augustine and Benedict. Bernard takes up this idea again. The young noblemen who flocked to his monasteries had to engage in manual labour. In fact Bernard explicitly states that not even the monastery can restore Paradise, but he maintains that, as a place of practical and spiritual "tilling the soil", it must prepare the new Paradise. A wild plot of forest land is rendered fertile - and in the process, the trees of pride are felled, whatever weeds may be growing inside souls are pulled up, and the ground is thereby prepared so that bread for body and soul can flourish[13]. Are we not perhaps seeing once again, in the light of current history, that no positive world order can prosper where souls are overgrown?

The transformation of Christian faith-hope in the modern age

16. How could the idea have developed that Jesus's message is narrowly individualistic and aimed only at each person singly? How did we arrive at this interpretation of the "salvation of the soul" as a flight from responsibility for the whole, and how did we come to conceive the Christian project as a selfish search for salvation which rejects the idea of serving others? In order to find an answer to this we must take a look at the foundations of the modern age. These appear with particular clarity in the thought of Francis Bacon. That a new era emerged - through the discovery of America and the new technical achievements that had made this development possible - is undeniable. But what is the basis of this new era? It is the new correlation of experiment and method that enables man to arrive at an interpretation of nature in conformity with its laws and thus finally to achieve "the triumph of art over nature" (victoria cursus artis super naturam)[14]. The novelty - according to Bacon's vision - lies in a new correlation between science and praxis. This is also given a theological application: the new correlation between science and praxis would mean that the dominion over creation - given to man by God and lost through original sin - would be reestablished[15].

17. Anyone who reads and reflects on these statements attentively will recognize that a disturbing step has been taken: up to that time, the recovery of what man had lost through the expulsion from Paradise was expected from faith in Jesus Christ: herein lay "redemption". Now, this "redemption", the restoration of the lost "Paradise" is no longer expected from faith, but from the newly discovered link between science and praxis. It is not that faith is simply denied; rather it is displaced onto another level - that of purely private and other-worldly affairs - and at the same time it becomes somehow irrelevant for the world. This programmatic vision has determined the trajectory of modern times and it also shapes the present-day crisis of faith which is essentially a crisis of Christian hope. Thus hope too, in Bacon, acquires a new form. Now it is called: faith in progress. For Bacon, it is clear that the recent spate of discoveries and inventions is just the beginning; through the interplay of science and praxis, totally new discoveries will follow, a totally new world will emerge, the kingdom of man[16]. He even put forward a vision of foreseeable inventions - including the aeroplane and the submarine. As the ideology of progress developed further, joy at visible advances in human potential remained a continuing confirmation of faith in progress as such.

18. At the same time, two categories become increasingly central to the idea of progress: reason and freedom. Progress is primarily associated with the growing dominion of reason, and this reason is obviously considered to be a force of good and a force for good. Progress is the overcoming of all forms of dependency - it is progress towards perfect freedom. Likewise freedom is seen purely as a promise, in which man becomes more and more fully himself. In both concepts - freedom and reason - there is a political aspect. The kingdom of reason, in fact, is expected as the new condition of the human race once it has attained total freedom. The political conditions of such a kingdom of reason and freedom, however, appear at first sight somewhat ill defined. Reason and freedom seem to guarantee by themselves, by virtue of their intrinsic goodness, a new and perfect human community. The two key concepts of "reason" and "freedom", however, were tacitly interpreted as being in conflict with the shackles of faith and of the Church as well as those of the political structures of the period. Both concepts therefore contain a revolutionary potential of enormous explosive force.

19. We must look briefly at the two essential stages in the political realization of this hope, because they are of great importance for the development of Christian hope, for a proper understanding of it and of the reasons for its persistence. First there is the French Revolution - an attempt to establish the rule of reason and freedom as a political reality. To begin with, the Europe of the Enlightenment looked on with fascination at these events, but then, as they developed, had cause to reflect anew on reason and freedom. A good illustration of these two phases in the reception of events in France is found in two essays by Immanuel Kant in which he reflects on what had taken place. In 1792 he wrote Der Sieg des guten Prinzips über das böse und die Gründung eines Reiches Gottes auf Erden ("The Victory of the Good over the Evil Principle and the Founding of a Kingdom of God on Earth"). In this text he says the following: "The gradual transition of ecclesiastical faith to the exclusive sovereignty of pure religious faith is the coming of the Kingdom of God"[17]. He also tells us that revolutions can accelerate this transition from ecclesiastical faith to rational faith. The "Kingdom of God" proclaimed by Jesus receives a new definition here and takes on a new mode of presence; a new "imminent expectation", so to speak, comes into existence: the "Kingdom of God" arrives where "ecclesiastical faith" is vanquished and superseded by "religious faith", that is to say, by simple rational faith. In 1794, in the text Das Ende aller Dinge ("The End of All Things") a changed image appears. Now Kant considers the possibility that as well as the natural end of all things there may be another that is unnatural, a perverse end. He writes in this connection: "If Christianity should one day cease to be worthy of love ... then the prevailing mode in human thought would be rejection and opposition to it; and the Antichrist ... would begin his - albeit short - regime (presumably based on fear and self-interest); but then, because Christianity, though destined to be the world religion, would not in fact be favoured by destiny to become so, then, in a moral respect, this could lead to the (perverted) end of all things"[18].

20. The nineteenth century held fast to its faith in progress as the new form of human hope, and it continued to consider reason and freedom as the guiding stars to be followed along the path of hope. Nevertheless, the increasingly rapid advance of technical development and the industrialization connected with it soon gave rise to an entirely new social situation: there emerged a class of industrial workers and the so-called "industrial proletariat", whose dreadful living conditions Friedrich Engels described alarmingly in 1845. For his readers, the conclusion is clear: this cannot continue; a change is necessary. Yet the change would shake up and overturn the entire structure of bourgeois society. After the bourgeois revolution of 1789, the time had come for a new, proletarian revolution: progress could not simply continue in small, linear steps. A revolutionary leap was needed. Karl Marx took up the rallying call, and applied his incisive language and intellect to the task of launching this major new and, as he thought, definitive step in history towards salvation - towards what Kant had described as the "Kingdom of God". Once the truth of the hereafter had been rejected, it would then be a question of establishing the truth of the here and now. The critique of Heaven is transformed into the critique of earth, the critique of theology into the critique of politics. Progress towards the better, towards the definitively good world, no longer comes simply from science but from politics - from a scientifically conceived politics that recognizes the structure of history and society and thus points out the road towards revolution, towards all-encompassing change. With great precision, albeit with a certain onesided bias, Marx described the situation of his time, and with great analytical skill he spelled out the paths leading to revolution - and not only theoretically: by means of the Communist Party that came into being from the Communist Manifesto of 1848, he set it in motion. His promise, owing to the acuteness of his analysis and his clear indication of the means for radical change, was and still remains an endless source of fascination. Real revolution followed, in the most radical way in Russia.

21. Together with the victory of the revolution, though, Marx's fundamental error also became evident. He showed precisely how to overthrow the existing order, but he did not say how matters should proceed thereafter. He simply presumed that with the expropriation of the ruling class, with the fall of political power and the socialization of means of production, the new Jerusalem would be realized. Then, indeed, all contradictions would be resolved, man and the world would finally sort themselves out. Then everything would be able to proceed by itself along the right path, because everything would belong to everyone and all would desire the best for one another. Thus, having accomplished the revolution, Lenin must have realized that the writings of the master gave no indication as to how to proceed. True, Marx had spoken of the interim phase of the dictatorship of the proletariat as a necessity which in time would automatically become redundant. This "intermediate phase" we know all too well, and we also know how it then developed, not ushering in a perfect world, but leaving behind a trail of appalling destruction. Marx not only omitted to work out how this new world would be organized - which should, of course, have been unnecessary. His silence on this matter follows logically from his chosen approach. His error lay deeper. He forgot that man always remains man. He forgot man and he forgot man's freedom. He forgot that freedom always remains also freedom for evil. He thought that once the economy had been put right, everything would automatically be put right. His real error is materialism: man, in fact, is not merely the product of economic conditions, and it is not possible to redeem him purely from the outside by creating a favourable economic environment.

22. Again, we find ourselves facing the question: what may we hope? A self-critique of modernity is needed in dialogue with Christianity and its concept of hope. In this dialogue Christians too, in the context of their knowledge and experience, must learn anew in what their hope truly consists, what they have to offer to the world and what they cannot offer. Flowing into this self-critique of the modern age there also has to be a self-critique of modern Christianity, which must constantly renew its self-understanding setting out from its roots. On this subject, all we can attempt here are a few brief observations. First we must ask ourselves: what does "progress" really mean; what does it promise and what does it not promise? In the nineteenth century, faith in progress was already subject to critique. In the twentieth century, Theodor W. Adorno formulated the problem of faith in progress quite drastically: he said that progress, seen accurately, is progress from the sling to the atom bomb. Now this is certainly an aspect of progress that must not be concealed. To put it another way: the ambiguity of progress becomes evident. Without doubt, it offers new possibilities for good, but it also opens up appalling possibilities for evil - possibilities that formerly did not exist. We have all witnessed the way in which progress, in the wrong hands, can become and has indeed become a terrifying progress in evil. If technical progress is not matched by corresponding progress in man's ethical formation, in man's inner growth (cf. Eph 3:16; 2 Cor 4:16), then it is not progress at all, but a threat for man and for the world.

23. As far as the two great themes of "reason" and "freedom" are concerned, here we can only touch upon the issues connected with them. Yes indeed, reason is God's great gift to man, and the victory of reason over unreason is also a goal of the Christian life. But when does reason truly triumph? When it is detached from God? When it has become blind to God? Is the reason behind action and capacity for action the whole of reason? If progress, in order to be progress, needs moral growth on the part of humanity, then the reason behind action and capacity for action is likewise urgently in need of integration through reason's openness to the saving forces of faith, to the differentiation between good and evil. Only thus does reason become truly human. It becomes human only if it is capable of directing the will along the right path, and it is capable of this only if it looks beyond itself. Otherwise, man's situation, in view of the imbalance between his material capacity and the lack of judgement in his heart, becomes a threat for him and for creation. Thus where freedom is concerned, we must remember that human freedom always requires a convergence of various freedoms. Yet this convergence cannot succeed unless it is determined by a common intrinsic criterion of measurement, which is the foundation and goal of our freedom. Let us put it very simply: man needs God, otherwise he remains without hope. Given the developments of the modern age, the quotation from Saint Paul with which I began (Eph 2:12) proves to be thoroughly realistic and plainly true. There is no doubt, therefore, that a "Kingdom of God" accomplished without God - a kingdom therefore of man alone - inevitably ends up as the "perverse end" of all things as described by Kant: we have seen it, and we see it over and over again. Yet neither is there any doubt that God truly enters into human affairs only when, rather than being present merely in our thinking, he himself comes towards us and speaks to us. Reason therefore needs faith if it is to be completely itself: reason and faith need one another in order to fulfill their true nature and their mission.

The true shape of Christian hope

24. Let us ask once again: what may we hope? And what may we not hope? First of all, we must acknowledge that incremental progress is possible only in the material sphere. Here, amid our growing knowledge of the structure of matter and in the light of ever more advanced inventions, we clearly see continuous progress towards an ever greater mastery of nature. Yet in the field of ethical awareness and moral decision-making, there is no similar possibility of accumulation for the simple reason that man's freedom is always new and he must always make his decisions anew. These decisions can never simply be made for us in advance by others - if that were the case, we would no longer be free. Freedom presupposes that in fundamental decisions, every person and every generation is a new beginning. Naturally, new generations can build on the knowledge and experience of those who went before, and they can draw upon the moral treasury of the whole of humanity. But they can also reject it, because it can never be self-evident in the same way as material inventions. The moral treasury of humanity is not readily at hand like tools that we use; it is present as an appeal to freedom and a possibility for it. This, however, means that:

a) The right state of human affairs, the moral well-being of the world can never be guaranteed simply through structures alone, however good they are. Such structures are not only important, but necessary; yet they cannot and must not marginalize human freedom. Even the best structures function only when the community is animated by convictions capable of motivating people to assent freely to the social order. Freedom requires conviction; conviction does not exist on its own, but must always be gained anew by the community.

b) Since man always remains free and since his freedom is always fragile, the kingdom of good will never be definitively established in this world. Anyone who promises the better world that is guaranteed to last for ever is making a false promise; he is overlooking human freedom. Freedom must constantly be won over for the cause of good. Free assent to the good never exists simply by itself. If there were structures which could irrevocably guarantee a determined - good - state of the world, man's freedom would be denied, and hence they would not be good structures at all.

25. What this means is that every generation has the task of engaging anew in the arduous search for the right way to order human affairs; this task is never simply completed. Yet every generation must also make its own contribution to establishing convincing structures of freedom and of good, which can help the following generation as a guideline for the proper use of human freedom; hence, always within human limits, they provide a certain guarantee also for the future. In other words: good structures help, but of themselves they are not enough. Man can never be redeemed simply from outside. Francis Bacon and those who followed in the intellectual current of modernity that he inspired were wrong to believe that man would be redeemed through science. Such an expectation asks too much of science; this kind of hope is deceptive. Science can contribute greatly to making the world and mankind more human. Yet it can also destroy mankind and the world unless it is steered by forces that lie outside it. On the other hand, we must also acknowledge that modern Christianity, faced with the successes of science in progressively structuring the world, has to a large extent restricted its attention to the individual and his salvation. In so doing it has limited the horizon of its hope and has failed to recognize sufficiently the greatness of its task - even if it has continued to achieve great things in the formation of man and in care for the weak and the suffering.

26. It is not science that redeems man: man is redeemed by love. This applies even in terms of this present world. When someone has the experience of a great love in his life, this is a moment of "redemption" which gives a new meaning to his life. But soon he will also realize that the love bestowed upon him cannot by itself resolve the question of his life. It is a love that remains fragile. It can be destroyed by death. The human being needs unconditional love. He needs the certainty which makes him say: "neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom 8:38- 39). If this absolute love exists, with its absolute certainty, then - only then - is man "redeemed", whatever should happen to him in his particular circumstances. This is what it means to say: Jesus Christ has "redeemed" us. Through him we have become certain of God, a God who is not a remote "first cause" of the world, because his only-begotten Son has become man and of him everyone can say: "I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Gal 2:20).

27. In this sense it is true that anyone who does not know God, even though he may entertain all kinds of hopes, is ultimately without hope, without the great hope that sustains the whole of life (cf. Eph 2:12). Man's great, true hope which holds firm in spite of all disappointments can only be God - God who has loved us and who continues to love us "to the end," until all "is accomplished" (cf. Jn 13:1 and 19:30). Whoever is moved by love begins to perceive what "life" really is. He begins to perceive the meaning of the word of hope that we encountered in the Baptismal Rite: from faith I await "eternal life" - the true life which, whole and unthreatened, in all its fullness, is simply life. Jesus, who said that he had come so that we might have life and have it in its fullness, in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10), has also explained to us what "life" means: "this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent" (Jn 17:3). Life in its true sense is not something we have exclusively in or from ourselves: it is a relationship. And life in its totality is a relationship with him who is the source of life. If we are in relation with him who does not die, who is Life itself and Love itself, then we are in life. Then we "live".

28. Yet now the question arises: are we not in this way falling back once again into an individualistic understanding of salvation, into hope for myself alone, which is not true hope since it forgets and overlooks others? Indeed we are not! Our relationship with God is established through communion with Jesus - we cannot achieve it alone or from our own resources alone. The relationship with Jesus, however, is a relationship with the one who gave himself as a ransom for all (cf. 1 Tim 2:6). Being in communion with Jesus Christ draws us into his "being for all"; it makes it our own way of being. He commits us to live for others, but only through communion with him does it become possible truly to be there for others, for the whole. In this regard I would like to quote the great Greek Doctor of the Church, Maximus the Confessor († 662), who begins by exhorting us to prefer nothing to the knowledge and love of God, but then quickly moves on to practicalities: "The one who loves God cannot hold on to money but rather gives it out in God's fashion ... in the same manner in accordance with the measure of justice"[19]. Love of God leads to participation in the justice and generosity of God towards others. Loving God requires an interior freedom from all possessions and all material goods: the love of God is revealed in responsibility for others[20]. This same connection between love of God and responsibility for others can be seen in a striking way in the life of Saint Augustine. After his conversion to the Christian faith, he decided, together with some like-minded friends, to lead a life totally dedicated to the word of God and to things eternal. His intention was to practise a Christian version of the ideal of the contemplative life expressed in the great tradition of Greek philosophy, choosing in this way the "better part" (cf. Lk 10:42). Things turned out differently, however. While attending the Sunday liturgy at the port city of Hippo, he was called out from the assembly by the Bishop and constrained to receive ordination for the exercise of the priestly ministry in that city. Looking back on that moment, he writes in his Confessions: "Terrified by my sins and the weight of my misery, I had resolved in my heart, and meditated flight into the wilderness; but you forbade me and gave me strength, by saying: ‘Christ died for all, that those who live might live no longer for themselves but for him who for their sake died' (cf. 2 Cor 5:15)"[21]. Christ died for all. To live for him means allowing oneself to be drawn into his being for others.

29. For Augustine this meant a totally new life. He once described his daily life in the following terms: "The turbulent have to be corrected, the faint-hearted cheered up, the weak supported; the Gospel's opponents need to be refuted, its insidious enemies guarded against; the unlearned need to be taught, the indolent stirred up, the argumentative checked; the proud must be put in their place, the desperate set on their feet, those engaged in quarrels reconciled; the needy have to be helped, the oppressed to be liberated, the good to be encouraged, the bad to be tolerated; all must be loved"[22]. "The Gospel terrifies me"[23] - producing that healthy fear which prevents us from living for ourselves alone and compels us to pass on the hope we hold in common. Amid the serious difficulties facing the Roman Empire - and also posing a serious threat to Roman Africa, which was actually destroyed at the end of Augustine's life - this was what he set out to do: to transmit hope, the hope which came to him from faith and which, in complete contrast with his introverted temperament, enabled him to take part decisively and with all his strength in the task of building up the city. In the same chapter of the Confessions in which we have just noted the decisive reason for his commitment "for all", he says that Christ "intercedes for us, otherwise I should despair. My weaknesses are many and grave, many and grave indeed, but more abundant still is your medicine. We might have thought that your word was far distant from union with man, and so we might have despaired of ourselves, if this Word had not become flesh and dwelt among us"[24]. On the strength of his hope, Augustine dedicated himself completely to the ordinary people and to his city - renouncing his spiritual nobility, he preached and acted in a simple way for simple people.

30. Let us summarize what has emerged so far in the course of our reflections. Day by day, man experiences many greater or lesser hopes, different in kind according to the different periods of his life. Sometimes one of these hopes may appear to be totally satisfying without any need for other hopes. Young people can have the hope of a great and fully satisfying love; the hope of a certain position in their profession, or of some success that will prove decisive for the rest of their lives. When these hopes are fulfilled, however, it becomes clear that they were not, in reality, the whole. It becomes evident that man has need of a hope that goes further. It becomes clear that only something infinite will suffice for him, something that will always be more than he can ever attain. In this regard our contemporary age has developed the hope of creating a perfect world that, thanks to scientific knowledge and to scientifically based politics, seemed to be achievable. Thus Biblical hope in the Kingdom of God has been displaced by hope in the kingdom of man, the hope of a better world which would be the real "Kingdom of God". This seemed at last to be the great and realistic hope that man needs. It was capable of galvanizing - for a time - all man's energies. The great objective seemed worthy of full commitment. In the course of time, however, it has become clear that this hope is constantly receding. Above all it has become apparent that this may be a hope for a future generation, but not for me.

And however much "for all" may be part of the great hope - since I cannot be happy without others or in opposition to them - it remains true that a hope that does not concern me personally is not a real hope. It has also become clear that this hope is opposed to freedom, since human affairs depend in each generation on the free decisions of those concerned. If this freedom were to be taken away, as a result of certain conditions or structures, then ultimately this world would not be good, since a world without freedom can by no means be a good world. Hence, while we must always be committed to the improvement of the world, tomorrow's better world cannot be the proper and sufficient content of our hope. And in this regard the question always arises: when is the world "better"? What makes it good? By what standard are we to judge its goodness? What are the paths that lead to this "goodness"?

by Charles R. Swindoll

Rarely will one of God's heroes show up in the Scriptures having lived a life free of failure. Take Peter, for example. As soon as you read the name, you remember his story. Peter experienced the extreme highs and lows of life — from days spent in blessed fellowship with Christ...to the heart-wrenching erosion of loyalty when he denied the Lord. Not once. Not twice. Three times. Once he realized his failure, the Bible says, "he went out and wept bitterly" (Luke 22:62).

Can you remember a failure that was so dramatic and so tearful for you that you hardly need to be reminded of the feelings? I remember Betsie ten Boom's words, "There is no pit so deep but that He is not deeper still." As dark and as deep and as tragic as your failure may be, He is willing to go to the depths of it with you.

This was true of Peter too. Look back at Luke 22. After the surprising warning of Satan's attack, Jesus gave Peter a statement of fact: "I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail." Then there was a veiled reassurance: "And you, when once you have turned again...". Then a final command: "Strengthen your brothers" (22:32).

What does that suggest? It suggests that Peter was going to fall. "Once you have turned again." "Retraced your steps" is another way someone else has put it. "Once you have turned again," Jesus said, "then use it to strengthen your brothers." Jesus knew Peter to the core. He knew Peter would fall, but He prayed for him that he would not remain fallen. Jesus loved Peter — even at his point of deepest weakness.

How did He prove that love? Mark 16:6-7 answers that question. After the Resurrection, while the women were standing at the tomb, an angel told them:

"Do not be amazed; you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who has been crucified. He has risen; He is not here; behold, here is the place where they laid him. But go, tell His disciples and Peter." (emphasis added)

Isn't that great? "Don't forget Peter. He's the last one who thinks that I'll ever want to talk to him again. Tell Peter!" What grace!

Somewhere between the time Peter fell and this angelic announcement there was a process during which Peter wallowed in remorse, wishing he could, if possible, correct his error...but he couldn't. And somewhere in the midst of it he heard the Lord say to him, "Peter, I forgive you. I understand. Use it to strengthen your brothers."

That's why Peter later was able to write the following words to early Christians:

May grace and peace be yours in the fullest measure.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection. (1 Peter 1:2-3)

Why did this mean so much to Peter? Because it was at the Resurrection, Peter's name was called, and the Lord in tender mercy said, "Tell him I've come back."

First Peter is a letter of great hope written by a man who experienced it! By the time he wrote this letter, Peter had come to the place where he was not only back on the scene, he was aggressively engaged in the formation of the early church.

It can happen to you too. Just like fallen and forgiven Peter, you can find new hope despite your failures. If you are a believer, you are born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead (1 Peter 1:3).

What tender mercy! What triumphant grace! Failure is not forever. God specializes in forgiveness and hope. He can use even your worst failures in a mighty way.

Taken from Charles R. Swindoll, "Hope beyond Failure," Insights (August 2002): 1-2. Copyright © 2002 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide.

by Ralph Bauma

"Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance."
PSA 42:5.

In MAT 6:25, Jesus said, "Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"

Our Lord told us not to be anxious or worry about our lives, yet we see David, the man after God's own heart, saying, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me?" Our Saviour admonishes us because of the natural tendencies of the human heart. When the Lord withdraws His face, our souls are cast down and we become disquieted. David searched his soul to find the source of his anxiety and depression.

The word disquieted comes from the Hebrew word hamah (haw-maw), which means "a restless, mournful, tumultuous anxiety; disquieted." Our Saviour tells us to "take no thought" (do not be anxious) for the future, but trust in the Lord. Yet the man after God's own heart was anxious, restless and mournful.

God's people often experience anxiety and apprehension of the future, which makes the soul cast down and uneasy or restless. In effect, David's anxious inquiry and its solution, "hope thou in God," is what Jesus was speaking about in MAT 6:25: take no thought, or do not be anxious or worry about your life, but hope in God.

In the Psalm we just read, David poured out his soul to the Lord. In PSA 42: 3 he said, "My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?" God had withdrawn Himself for a season and David was struggling in his faith.

Then he said in Verse 4, "When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday." He had led the multitude that brought the ark into Jerusalem, dancing and singing in celebration unto the Lord, but that same David cried out, "My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?" In our text, he said, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul" and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance." He was crying for the presence of God, because the Lord had withdrawn.

The soul is the most intimate companion in all our sorrows and joys. Jesus Christ came to redeem our souls from all adversity, affliction, distress, and discontent by the infinite cost of His blood. David's soul inquired, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul?" When people turn their backs on the Lord, they wind up serving Nebuchadnezzar, the king of confusion. They are at their wits' end, but Christ came to redeem us from confusion and give us peace of mind.

David said in 2SA 4:9, "As the LORD liveth, who hath redeemed my soul out of all adversity." So many people think salvation is being washed in the blood of Christ to escape hell, but they do not understand salvation. Salvation is experiencing the presence of God dwelling within us. We enjoy His nearness and fellowship in our souls. We are redeemed from the state of confusion, affliction, distress, and discontent. We can "hope thou in God." David swore unto Bathsheba by the Lord his God, "that hath redeemed my soul out of all distress," 1KI 1:29. Redemption is to be free from all distress, anxiety, and self so that Christ becomes everything. Being Christ-centered instead of self-centered is salvation!

If God's people did not experience anxious times when their souls were cast down, they would not experience the wonder of His redeeming love. We must be able to tell of a time when the Lord redeemed us from a state of confusion or anxiety and made us no longer self-centered but Christ-centered. God becomes the center of our lives. He becomes our all. "Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance." We experience His nearness, which is our salvation.

For the first point, let us consider the question itself: "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me?"

For the second point, let us consider David's source of encouragement in distress: "Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance."

The experiences of the patriarchs are written for our instruction and comfort. The Book of Psalms, full of the struggles that the Psalmists went through, is written to educate us. Their failures were written for our admonition, their strength and faith for our encouragement.

1CO 10:6-12 says, "Now these things were our examples, to the intent we should not lust after evil things, as they also lusted. -David's lust was recorded as an example to us of the bitterness of sin.- Neither be ye idolaters, as were some of them; as it is written, The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play. Neither let us commit fornication, as some of them committed, and fell in one day three and twenty thousand. Neither let us tempt Christ, as some of them also tempted, and were destroyed of serpents. Neither murmur ye, as some of them also murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer. Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come. Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."

The biography of David does not only tell of the times that he sang praises to the Lord, but it also tells of the times that the Lord had withdrawn and when he was filled with anxiety. When we have anxious thoughts, we can see that we are walking in David's footsteps, and we can learn from his fall. The Lord brought these experiences in his soul, and we are admonished that if we think we stand, "take heed lest -we- fall."

The righteousness of faith of Abraham was written for our comfort. ROM 4:20-24 says, "He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God; And being fully persuaded that, what he had promised, he was able also to perform. And therefore it was imputed to him for righteousness. Now it was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him; But for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead." When Abraham put his all on the altar, the Lord said, "Now I know that thou fearest God." Abraham's righteousness by faith is written for our comfort and strengthening as we go through struggles and trials.

David was a man after God's own heart, yet his natural, evil inclinations caused him much distress. His failings and grief are written for our admonition just as the strength of the faith of Abraham is written for our encouragement.

Let us consider some of the things that cause the souls of God's people to be cast down.

First, what is it to be cast down? It is to be depressed, to feel our soul bowed down within us, or to feel convicted of some presumptuous sin, false confidence, Pharisaism, or worldliness by the Holy Spirit. We may walk in our own strength and have so much confidence in ourselves, which is our human nature, but as the Lord crucifies that old man of sin, we grow in grace while "self" dwindles. When He takes away our false confidence, we become cast down in our souls. We have no strength in ourselves. We must hope in God, for all hope in human strength fails.

The soul becomes very depressed when the Holy Spirit convicts us of the guilt of sin. He shows us the emptiness of self and that our best righteousness is as filthy rags in God's sight.

This is not limited to those first convictions of the law in the conscience, but the felt sense of sin, which pursues us throughout our lives. David said in PSA 25:7, "Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness' sake, O LORD." As he grew in grace, David looked back at things that had not convicted his heart in his youth. The older I get, the more I understand how sinful the sins of youth are. Then I must cry out with David, "Remember not the sins of my youth." David was not primarily concerned about either going to hell or being justified; he comprehended the sinfulness of sin, which caused him to feel depressed in his soul.

God's people often become cast down when the Holy Spirit convinces them, like David, of their gross sins: their adulterous eye, roving heart, defiled imagination, or the constant stream of iniquity polluting every thought and word. How often we realize that what we have done was foolish, and we make a resolution not to do it anymore, but as that very same thing arises in our hearts, we are unable in our own strength to deliver ourselves. We become cast down and must cry out to the Lord for deliverance from such folly and that the Lord will work in us the Spirit of Christ. We see that we are dependent upon the Lord. How can we have such wicked imaginations and such a constant stream of iniquity polluting our hearts if we are truly experiencing God's nearness and love?

If some sin gains the mastery over us, guilt follows it as surely as the shadow follows the sun. Every day we must return to the Lord and confess the sins of the day: harsh thoughts toward a friend or un-edifying speech. Our hearts must convince and convict us that we have committed fresh sin.

Even though God's restraining grace spares us from gross sin, those who have a conscience tender for the will of God continually feel the workings of pride, hypocrisy, carnal desires, worldly- mindedness, and everything that is vile in the eyes of God. The more the Lord reveals our own hearts, the more we see that our hearts are like cages of unclean birds.

This spiritual warfare often causes the soul to be cast down as God leads us unto godliness. The more we grow in grace, the more we desire to do that which is godly. The more tender our hearts are, the more our hearts become torn because of its evil inclinations. GAL 5:16-17 says, "This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would."

"Why art thou cast down, O my soul?" David's strength in self was gone. That was why he said, "Hope thou in God." He could not deliver himself from his own evil heart. His only hope was in God.

Another thing that causes the soul of God's dear children to be cast down is when the Lord withdraws His manifest presence and does not hear their prayers because they cherish some secret sin in their hearts. When the Lord visits, He first withdraws His presence from our souls so that we cry with David, "My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?" We struggle through all of these trials and temptations, but we do not have the Lord near to assuage them.

PSA 66:17-18 says, "I cried unto him with my mouth, and he was extolled with my tongue. If I regard -cherish- iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." If we do not deal with those cherished sins, then the Lord will not hear us. Our souls become cast down and disquieted within us because the Lord leaves us to the king of confusion. Though we turn to the right hand and the left, He is not there.

Another thing that causes the souls of God's dear children to be cast down is temptation. The holy principles in the bosom of God's dear children are as holy as God Himself, but we find that the things we would, we do not, and the things we would not, those we do.

We see in 2PE 1:3-4, "According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue: Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust."

How are we made "partakers of the divine nature"? Those principles that dwell within our hearts are holy and inspired by the Lord, but we are in a spiritual war, struggling against the powers of Satan and sin. The "partakers of the divine nature" hate sin and loathe everything that is opposed to the image of Christ. ROM 8:29 tells us, "For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brethren." This means that we will become conformed to His image. He is the firstborn; He set the standard. We are predestined to be conformed to that standard of total submission to the will of God, total self-sacrifice, and godliness.

What spiritual life is there in the soul if temptation causes no burden to force the cry: "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me?"

Filth is no burden to the filthy. Some people's homes are so filthy that it sickens you to walk in the door, but to them it is no burden. Only the clean feel the disgusting nature of filthiness. Sin to the spiritually dead is no burden and temptation is no sorrow for they do not have a godly nature. They do not have the image of Christ so they are not pained by the pollution of sin.

To those in whose heart the Lord of Life and Glory is enthroned as king, temptation is a burden in proportion to the Spirit's work of grace in the heart. As we grow in grace and in the knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, we grow in understanding the hatefulness of sin, and we have no desire to even be exposed to temptation.

The soul is often cast down by reason of God's tender, fatherly love and faithfulness in dealing with us as dear children. When the Lord chastens us, our souls may be cast down by affliction. Sometimes in that affliction, we say as Jacob, "All these things are against me." Jacob did not understand that God, by sending him to Egypt, was fulfilling what He had promised Abraham before Jacob was born: that his seed would be brought into Egypt for four hundred years before being delivered. HEB 12:5-6 says, "And ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto children, My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him: For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth."

When the power of sin and rebellion have been broken by His tender, fatherly love, then we understand the peaceable fruits of such love. We have a heart that is tender for the Lord. We read in HEB 12:11, "Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." That peaceable fruit is produced when the rebellion of our hearts is broken; we have peace in the leading of the Lord, and we are in total submission to His will.

David puts another question to his soul, "Why art thou disquieted in me?" This word disquieted does not speak of the soul's present feeling, but of "a restless, mournful, tumultuous anxiety," for the future. David said in PSA 42:9-11, "I will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me; while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God? Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God." David was disquieted about the future. How often you and I have such apprehensions for the future? What is the Lord doing? What will happen tomorrow or next month or next year? What will become of my children?

It was most gracious of the Lord to cause the soul of David to be thus exercised so that he could pen these sacred Scriptures, which have encouraged so many of God's dear children throughout the ages. How often in our lives has the Book of Psalms been such an encouragement and such complete patterns of what we are experiencing.

For the second point, let us consider David's source of encouragement in distress: "Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance."

As I stated, the soul is our most intimate companion in all our sorrows and joys. As David's soul was his companion in all his sorrow, so he desired it to be in all his joy.

After these anxious inquiries of, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me," David said to his soul, "Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance." David was telling his soul that the nearness and presence of God is salvation, no matter what other people think, though they came against him asking, "Where is thy God?" Moses said the same in that if God would not go before him into the land of Canaan, then he did not want to go. David learned that the presence of God is salvation. The Lord will wean us from everything else until nothing but the presence of God becomes our whole salvation and life's joy.

The hope and encouragement David proposed to his soul is the only foundation of hope. "Hope thou in God," because His presence and His tender are fatherly love.

Through struggles, the Lord shows His dear children their emptiness so they will take their eyes off self and lift them unto Christ. In JER 48:11 we read, "Moab hath been at ease from his youth, and he hath settled on his lees, and hath not been emptied from vessel to vessel, neither hath he gone into captivity: therefore his taste remained in him, and his scent is not changed."

In wine making, grape juice is emptied from vessel to vessel, while the dregs, which settle to the bottom, are left behind. The result is sweet wine. The problem with Moab was that the wine "hath settled on his lees" and therefore it became bitter, because it was not emptied from vessel to vessel leaving the dregs behind: the bitterness of his soul was not removed. He never experienced trial after trial, finding each time that a sin was purged away. Each time the Lord leads us through another struggle, He purges us from one more sin. He empties us from vessel to vessel in the refining process. David encouraged us to see that all these struggles and trials are part of the refining process.

Moab was not emptied from vessel to vessel, neither had he been brought into captivity. If you have never been taken captive, you cannot know what deliverance is. He had not known his captivity under the king of Babylon, the king of confusion; therefore "his taste remained in him, and his scent is not changed." He stayed the same.

Before any person will understand what it is to truly "hope in God," self must be emptied of any hope or consolation. Being emptied from vessel to vessel empties us of self. The Lord becomes everything. That emptying process is the hope and consolation of our souls when we see that the Lord is leading us through it. We no longer hope in the flesh; we hope in God.

We read in EPH 3:17-19, "That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fullness of God."

Can you pour juice into a pitcher full of water? There is no room. Until we are empty of self, we will never be filled with His fullness, for there is no place for Him.

When we have been emptied of self, we see by faith that all Satan's principalities are put under our Saviour's feet. There is no need for disquietness because the power of Satan is broken and all anxiety is removed when Christ sits on the throne of the heart. EPH 1:22-23 tells us, "And hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all things to the church, Which is his body, the fullness of him that filleth all in all." We are filled with Christ and emptied of self. Each time the Lord puts us through the refining process, He empties out a little more self and makes room for a little more of God.

As we grow in grace, we do not put on armor of flesh and human strength, but the whole armor of God, which is Christ. COL 1:18-20 says, "And he is the head of the body, the church: who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead; that in all things he might have the pre-eminence. For it pleased the Father that in him should all fullness dwell; And, having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven."

Christ is jealous of His honor; He will not share His throne with self or flesh. No flesh will ever glory before God. We see our emptiness as the Lord empties us from vessel to vessel, and we understand that the Father is pleased "that in him should all fullness dwell." In proportion as we have been emptied of self, we will be filled with Christ. Whether in eternal affairs or things of this life, whether it be our food, clothing, or dwelling, Christ has the pre-eminence and He is our fullness.

As we are weaned of self, we become complete in Christ. COL 2:9-12 says, "For in him dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily. And ye are complete in him, which is the head of all principality and power: In whom also ye are circumcised with the circumcision made without hands, in putting off the body of the sins of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ: Buried with him in baptism, wherein also ye are risen with him through the faith of the operation of God, who hath raised him from the dead."

We are unable to complete the law, but we are circumcised, which means that we are debtors to do the whole law. Christ has satisfied the law so we can have the righteousness of Christ and His satisfaction of the law imparted and imputed to us. Christ is formed in us, and we become complete as our emptiness is filled with His fullness. We can stand righteous before the Father in the perfect satisfaction of the law by His Son. He has stepped into the wrath of the Father to take away the penalty of sin on our behalf.

We understand the fullness of Christ when we see our emptiness, how far we come short, and how our very best righteousness is filthy in the Lord's sight. The circumcision of Christ circumcises us: we have obtained the perfect satisfaction of the law through Christ. We also have been buried with Him in baptism, which has removed the penalty of the law, and are risen with Him into newness of life.

As we become founded upon Christ, we say with Solomon, "My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand? His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem," SON 5:10, 16. We see the beauty of Christ in His fullness and pre-eminence as we see the emptiness of self. As we experience His fullness, we say with David, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God."

Take your eyes off yourself and lift them unto the Redeemer who came to redeem you from all adversity, suffering, and affliction. David was redeemed from all disquiet and depression when he lifted his eyes unto Christ. He saw the beauty and preciousness of Christ and said, "For I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance."

In the original, for the help of his countenance means "His presence is salvation." It is not heaven or hell that is so important, but the presence of God, which is salvation. What would heaven be without the presence of God? David was a God-seeker, not a heaven-seeker. So many people want Christ to escape hell, but they do not want Christ's presence. David was pleading, "Hope thou in God," for His presence is salvation!

by Shawn McEvoy

On the Wednesday morning following the 2012 presidential election, I found myself musing peacefully about what's important in life. I was finding out, through realizing how little the outcome affected me, how little stock I'd had in the result personally. I was neither dancing in the streets nor cursing the fates. How was that? Apathy? Ignorance? Internal focus? Eternal security? Just a really easy morning sending the kids off to school?

Then it hit me. It was the theological virtues. I began to compose what became a Facebook status:

"...I do find Faith and Hope such interesting concepts. They're so powerful. They allow so many to get on with their lives. They inform our decisions and give us empathy for others. They point us towards purpose, toward wrongs to be righted and away from what would harm us. They seem to be in short supply sometimes, even among those who proclaim them while venting frustrations and fears they'd not utter to your face, but they shine brightest in tough times if you let them. And they're most famously tied to Love. They are still here this day, even if it doesn't sound like it, for they are the virtues that 'abide.'

"So I ask regardless of political persuasion: Do you have Faith to loan to the one today who has lost his, or placed it in something temporal and disappointing? Can you spare Hope for one who doesn't understand that Despair is the only place hope functions?

"These virtues are superior inoculations against whatever goes on around us, the very infusions that make possible a mission of bringing joy, mercy and laughter into the world every day, that elevate 'I can endure all things' above a mere platitude. They task one with a job that'll get you up in the morning, any morning. They bring to our eyes opportunity: chances for justice and charity, and the exercise of freedom. And, good news for me, Faith-Hope-Love is beautifying, for I can think of none who ever saw the application of these virtues - call it Grace - in action and said, 'Ugly.'"

It wasn't long before I was tasked with the charge I had just set before others. A forlorn friend messaged me.

"I honestly need prayer. I am sincerely requesting it. I do not feel love, I do not feel any desire to "get past it and heal and show love more now than ever." ...I am disheartened to the point of despair. ...I don't want to feel this way but I do. And it's been getting worse all day. Please pray for me. ...Considering your FB post earlier, I came to you with my request because I thought that at the least you'd understand."

After a moment of prayer I responded:

"I have already been praying for you ever since waking early and noting that you were 'heart sick.' It can start to feel like a lonely place but you are not alone. I won't try to talk you off the ledge politically because the timing's not right and there's no point in anyone else's opinion when what's killing you and eating at you so bad is how 'uninformed and wrong' all the opinions out there seem to you. I only hope you can get to the bottom of why it gets to you so bad.

"In microcosm, it reminds me of a HORRIBLE flight to Newark I shared with two of my co-workers back in April. I was convinced that nasty flight was going down. I even posted ugly things about it publicly. I was SO MAD that while I was holding on for dear life while the plane bounced (yes, bounced!) around the sky, none of the other passengers seemed to mind. At least not much. I wanted to scream, 'Come on, people! This isn't right! Why did they put us on this plane in these conditions, and why are you taking this jostling?'

"On the other hand, my friend [and Christianity.com editor] Alex really couldn't understand why I would fret at all. After all, what is the worst that can happen to the believer? Death has no victory, so it's not that. And fear? What is fear except that from which we've already been delivered (death, sin, destruction, loss)? And sovereignty - what does my angry fretting reveal about what I believe about the nature of God?

"Hey, I think it's quite possible, biblically speaking, and regardless of the results of this particular vote, that things will happen in this country that are 'undesirable.' But I also know that through them and despite them I will cherish every moment with my family, try not to hold too tightly to anything eaten by moth or rust, and look for opportunities to help, and to live out my faith, purpose, and morality individually.

"I have no doubt you will be out of this slump at some point. But it may take a while. I daresay you may even want to talk to a counselor about it (I say this as someone who's done it).

"In the meantime, the simplest (yes, I know that can mean 'most naive') thing is to consider experience a good teacher. Nothing yet political, economic or electorial has befallen you or this country that killed either of you. In your 40 years, you have amassed great blessings; do not forget them, or cling too tightly out of fear of losing small portions of them. If you could erase everything in your mind and wake up today to discover the life you have, would your sky be nearly so dark right now?

"Rejoice! Get out of town. Go for a drive in the country with the top down. Go ahead, tell God he'd better know what he's doing allowing for the kings and counselors of the earth which he has ordained. And then leave it alone for a while. Go the indirect route. Study/read/pray about something else. Help someone else, even by just sending a note or letter to someone you know.

"These are the things that help me when I'm down, when I start hating my own people.

"Speaking of which, I sent friend requests to both ______ and ______ today. I figure it's time I stopped damming what would flow from my own heart. So please let me encourage you not to start. Much love!"

These words helped my friend, a little. This letter gave me a chance to be the hope to one person I'd challenged others to be. This day of lost faith for some became an opportunity for so many others to talk about theirs. And you know what? Today is no different.

Further Reading

Philippians 1:21-25
Philippians 4:13

by Dena Johnson

You might say that as Christians, we are never without hope. And, you are correct. Christ Jesus is our hope in our every circumstance.

But there are times when we feel utterly hopeless. When our hopes and dreams are shattered, never to be fulfilled. When we can't see beyond our pain to grasp the hope He offers. To believe there will ever be a better day on the horizon.

How about the faithful wife who has prayed fervently for her marriage to survive, and yet her husband chooses to walk away?

Or the husband who sees his wife being pulled into an emotional affair, begging her to return to her family, and yet she succumbs to the other man?

The child whose father abandoned the family and yet clings to the hope one day he will have a relationship with his dad only to see his dad die prematurely?

The woman who longs for a child only to suffer health consequences making it impossible for her ever to conceive?

The couple who prays over their sick child, begging God to save her, to heal her, only to see her life slip away?

Or maybe it's something else. Maybe it's addiction that robs you of your child's youth. Or depression that steals the life of your spouse. Or pornography that destroys your marriage.

Whatever it may be, hope is lost. Divorce. Death. Infertility. Cancer. Drugs. Suicide. So much pain. So much anguish.

Hope. Is. Lost.

Where does one turn when hope is lost? It's a question with which I struggle every single day. I've walked through hopelessness when my husband was caught in an affair. I was suicidal when I landed in divorce court. And now I watch as my children suffer their own hopelessness, as they wonder why God would allow their dad to die unexpectedly. How do we keep moving forward?

How do we find hope when hope is lost?

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. Psalms 34:18

There is never a time in your life where God will abandon you. But your times of anguish? You can be assured that God is closer than at any other time. Maybe it's through the kindness of others. The unexpected word of comfort. The moment of laughter that takes you completely by surprise. Maybe it's just the grace to get you through the day or even the moment. Or maybe it's the overwhelming peace when you should be falling apart. He is there. He is holding you close, wiping your tears.

The suffering won't last forever. It won't be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ--eternal and glorious plans they are!--will have you put together and on your feet for good. He gets the last word; yes, he does. 1 Peter 5:10

Suffering is a season, often a long, difficult season. But it is only a season, one with a beginning and an end. And God promises it will one day be over, one day when He has you put together and on your feet for good.

Joshua told the people, "Consecrate yourselves, because the Lord will do wonders among you tomorrow." Joshua 3:5

Have you considered that God often does His greatest work in the midst of our most painful days? Joseph was in prison as God prepared him to rule the land. The Israelites wandered in the wilderness while God carefully provided for their every need. David learned to fight when he was tending sheep. Maybe your pain is a way of consecrating you, of molding you into His image so you can witness the wonders He has planned for you.

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.
- Romans 8:28

We must have a firm grasp on the characteristics of God. He is good. He wants good for us. Even when bad things happen, we can trust that in His sovereignty He can--and will--bring good out of every tragedy.

Each time he said,

"My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.
- 2 Corinthians 12:9

When we are weak, our God is strong. When we are at our lowest point, He is ready to show up and show off. As we look back at the period of suffering, we will see how His grace sustained us, how His power was perfected through us. It may take a while, but one day we will look back with a new perspective--God's perspective--and see just how faithful He was.

That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.For our present troubles are small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don't look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.
- 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Trials and tribulations are not without purpose. If we choose to surrender to our Savior, He will take every pain and bring purpose to our lives. He uses the trials of this life to mold us into His image, to teach us about His great love and faithfulness toward us. How do we let Him have His way? By fixing our eyes on Him, not on our troubles.

"But forget all that--it is nothing compared to what I am going to do. For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland."
- Isaiah 43:18-19

When one dream dies, God has a new dream waiting for you. A new path. A new journey. Maybe a new ministry or message. A new passion. Whatever your loss, God can take your pain and do something new in you and through you.

Are you in that hopeless place? He is with you, wiping your tears, holding you up. He will see you through. Trust Him.

Lord Jesus, I know what it is to be hopeless. I know what it is to contemplate suicide when life falls apart. I know what it is to watch those we love most stumble through their days of hopelessness. I also know what it is to experience you in all of your goodness and grace when everything else is lost. I know what it is to see you faithfully guide us through the darkest days, to redeem our pain and replace it with beauty. Be with my friends who are hopeless today, struggling just to get out of bed in the morning and make it through the day. Give them your perspective, your vision of their pain. Show them a vision of what new thing you have planned for them. Give them your grace to get them through this season. In Jesus name I pray, amen.

For further reflection:

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."
- Jeremiah 29:11

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.
- Romans 5:3-5

"For the Lord, your God, is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
- Zephaniah 3:17

"Be still, and know that I am God! I will be honored by every nation. I will be honored throughout the world."
- Psalm 46:10

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."
- John 16:33

You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!
- Isaiah 26:3

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
- 2 Corinthians 1:4

About The Author:

Dena is the founder of Dena Johnson Ministries, a non-profit organization with a mission of bringing hope to lives broken by the pain of this world. She is the author of the book, 'Picking Up the Pieces: Rebuilding Your Life After the Storms of Adultery and Divorce'.

In her spare time, Dena works as a Registered Nurse and is a regular contributor at Crosswalk.com.

by Dr. Charles Stanley

Scripture: Hebrews 6:13-20

19 This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil, 20 where the forerunner has entered for us, even Jesus, having become High Priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.
Hebrews 6:19

Hope is a healthy attitude. Anticipating good brings comfort to the mind and heart. In contrast, a state of hopelessness is a terrible condition in which to find oneself. It's overwhelming and depressing to think that what you're facing cannot be changed or resolved. For the person who has lost all hope, life looks like a long dark tunnel going nowhere.

Included in Proverbs is a verse that describes the result of this oppressive feeling: "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" (Prov. 13:12). Emotional, physical, and even mental illness haunt a person who feels trapped in a bleak situation. But I want to tell you, my friend, that as long as there is a God, no situation is hopeless. In Him, we have the promise of the second half of that proverb: "Desire fulfilled is a tree of life."

Believers have a hope that anchors their souls. Our relationship with Jesus Christ brings us close to the throne of heaven, where we can cast all our burdens before an omnipotent God. Moreover, we can cling to Him through whatever trials are facing us. Because of the Lord's great love, He provides strength for weary bodies, peace for anxious minds, and comfort for grieving hearts. In short, He lights that darkened tunnel and tenderly guides us through trying situations.

An anchor was a popular image in the ancient Mediterranean world. In an economy that depended on shipping, the anchor symbolized safety and steadiness. The writer of Hebrews used the word to remind believers that God has given a hope that holds firm in any storm.

by John W. Ritenbaugh

Scripture: Romans 8:25 (NKJV)

(25) But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.

Hope is important because it plays a major role in salvation. Hope is a powerful motivator. What we love, we pay attention to, and if we hope to get something from what we love, our hope will motivate us in that direction. Hope influences us either to take or not to take certain actions, depending upon what we hope for. We will generally do all that we can to make sure that what we hope for happens the way that we foresee it happening. If we hope something does not happen, we generally do what we can to see that it does not happen. Hope motivates us to move in a certain direction and to do certain things.

What if we hope for something that is beyond our immediate control? We will still pray that what we hope for will happen. If there is nothing else we can do, we will still pray. That is how powerful hope is. It will make us do things even subconsciously, bending us in a certain direction because our hope is so strong. At the very least, even if we do not pray, we will at least wish, fret, and worry about it until something is resolved. Our hopes, whether we are conscious of them or not, are constantly playing on our mind.

Hope is usually defined as a longing, a desire, or an expectation of fulfillment. It can be passive or intensely active. It can be for evil or for good. It is vitally important that we have the right hope because the Bible says, that along with faith and love, it is one of the three timeless and enduring eternal values. There will never be a time in eternity when hope is not on our minds! Think about that! It is that important.