The 25th Sunday after Pentecost - Let's talk about "hope" today--

This morning's reading from St. Paul's 2nd letter to the Thessalonians has this phrase in the final sentence: " . . . may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father . . . give us good hope."  What is "good hope?"

 

Here are some of the lyrics from a hymn written by Edward Mote in the 19th century:

         My hope is built on nothing less

         than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

         I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

         but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

When Darkness veils his lovely face,

         I rest on his unchanging grace.

         In every high and stormy gale,

         my anchor holds within the veil.

When he shall come with trumpet sound,

         O may I then in him be found!

         Dressed in his righteousness alone,

         faultless to stand before the throne!

In the 13th chapter of I Corinthians Paul tells us the what abides in the end are faith, hope and love--thus describing "hope" as an essential characteristic of following Jesus.

My preaching professor—in justifying her assignment of speaking with only a notecard in our hand after just a half hour of preparation—said, "You must always be ready to speak of the hope that is within you."

It would seem that  "hope" is always a good thing.  Its opposite, "despair," pulls us away from hope, declaring hope useless. On the other hand, "hope" does not foolishly promise an easy time, as in "I'm just a hopeful person," meaning optimism should be a primary way of relating to the world.

"Hope" in theological terms implies a trust in God's faithfulness, even when times look very difficult.  There are two situations in today's readings that may help us understand "hope" in the sense of trusting God better.

Let's first look at the story of Job.  As all of us know, Job represents undeserved suffering.  As a righteous and prosperous man, he could not accept the condemnation of his friends.  He knew he had not committed a sin that caused him to lose his family, all his livestock and his health.

His hope was to simply to encounter God and question God's decision to let these disasters happen to him. The author of Job held the point of view, which Job held as well, that God is in charge of all that happens on earth.  Job doesn't hope for healing or restoration.  He simply wants to make his case before God--even after death, if necessary.  His hope is for justice from his Redeemer.

In the time of Job redeemers usually ransomed family members who had been enslaved for financial reasons.  Job just wants God to affirm his innocence!  Job declares with certainty that his Redeemer lives and will come to him directly.  An author, Lawrence Wood points out how outrageously Job is acting:  "Job has the temerity to imply that his redeemer is the Almighty God, the maker of heaven and earth."  Wood describes it as "breathtaking confidence."  I would call it "fierce hope" that displays a radical trust in God's faithfulness, despite immediate apparently contrary evidence.

We use this passage from Job as one of the opening sentences of the burial rite.  I think most folks assume it's referring to Jesus, because we call him our redeemer.  But, in fact, if we look at it from its original context in the Hebrew scriptures, we are claiming to cling to that same fierce hope of Job's, trusting God's faithful presence to sustain us in our grief and pain.

And now we turn to Luke's report of a face off between the Sadducees and Jesus.  Their question sounds hypocritical, even farcical, since they do not believe in resurrection.  Probably the situation described in their question is simply a hypothetical one to test Jesus. Yet apart from its legalistic tone, the situation of multiple deaths and marriages with childlessness through it all for the woman at that time could not be more tragic.  Were she more than just part of a question, her situation would be as tragic as Job's was.  She had done nothing to deserve a fate of being widowed seven times.  Her hope would have been, I imagine, to be able to put all that tragedy behind her and live eternally in God's love.  She no longer needs to be the property of a man and only defined by her inability to give her husband an heir. 

Since she is just a character in a question, she has no voice to share her hope with us.  But Jesus offers words that would most clearly express her hope when he describes "the God of Abraham, the god of Isaac, and the God of Jacob" with these words:  "Now he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for in him all of them are alive."  Surely, this is the hope for eternal life as beloved of God.

Our hope, our good hope (to use St. Paul's words), needs to be no different than Job's and the widow's: that God sees us as we are with whatever pain we bear and will offer us a place in God's glorious life for eternity.  This isn't because we are especially righteous or innocent.  However, we may claim our hope that God's faithfulness will supply the grace we need heal of us of our sins, comfort us in our moments of doubt, and gather us into the divine presence forever.