Our Only Hope
For most of us, the beginning of Lent was like any other. We chose which Lenten practices we wanted to do, if possible, we made a point to go to Mass on Ash Wednesday, and we settled in for another 40-day season of purple. But we did not count on this: ending Lent and spending the Holy Triduum sheltering at home, social distancing, with sickness, death, economic difficulties and stress looming over us. We did not choose this cross. And yet, because of it, God is using it to give us a tremendous opportunity to more deeply enter into the sacred mysteries of Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection. What we need, now more than ever, is hope.
Hope is an overused and often little-understood word. Hope, as a theological virtue, is a gift from God infused in our souls at baptism, which enables us to “move and stretch forth toward the arduous good”, that is by hope we reach toward the goodness of God even when it isn’t easy. Hope enables us to desire God above all things and to trust Him for our salvation. Hope anchors us in God, no matter what storms or difficulties may arise. “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner shrine behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf…” (Hebrews 6:19-20).
While it is a gift from God, we must cooperate with God’s grace by exercising the virtue of hope given to us. Right now, we are in a unique place of human history. Nearly the entire world has been knocked off balance – our universal human frailty has been laid bare to us - where will we turn? To whom will we go? What do we really desire? These are questions each of us must answer for ourselves, and, because we change over time (even from moment to moment), we must answer them repeatedly.
Over the next three days as we walk with Jesus through his final days and hours before His death, consider the disciples of Jesus. Two of the most prominent are Peter and Judas. Both were intimate companions of Jesus for three years: they traveled with him, ate with him, shared in his ministry. When given the opportunity to leave, they didn’t, and Peter even professed him the long-awaited Messiah. But what happened that fateful Passover? Why did Judas betray Jesus? Why did Peter deny him?
We are told in the Gospel of John that Judas was a thief – he placed his hope in material goods. He must have had some abilities with money, for he was entrusted with the group’s finances and embezzled from them. We tend to think our weaknesses as our trouble areas, but Judas shows us that it is often our strengths and gifts that can be our downfall. Some commentators have also theorized that Judas was a Zealot and was hoping in a political Messiah that would free the Jews from the power of the Romans; if that is true, then he also desired worldly power. Whatever his motivation, and as with most of us it was likely mixed, Judas sinned against hope in his ultimate despair – he gave up on the goodness of Jesus, on the goodness of God and His mercy.
Peter also sinned against hope in his pride and presumption. He did not trust in God, but rather trusted in himself to stand firm by Jesus, and he failed bitterly. There is another way we can sin through presumption – by taking for granted God’s almighty power or His mercy. Many slip into some kind of presumption all too easily – we give lip service to God, but trust in our own abilities, our wealth, our power or our influence. We think we meant well, we wanted God’s glory, but we wanted it on our terms, in our way, and in our time.
Or perhaps we just didn’t take time for God. We were too busy with our life activities and told ourselves, “I’ll go to Mass / prayer / confession, etc. next week, when things slow down, etc.” Or we put off discerning our vocation or taking a particular action we feel God calling us to do. But the problem with this presumption is that eventually, for all of us, there will be no next week. By not making a decision or taking action, the door will eventually close for good. The result of these presumptions is that, at best, we become lukewarm in our faith, and, at worst, we because haughty and prideful, despising God. Yet, before we console ourselves by thinking lukewarm is better than prideful after all, we should remember Jesus told Saint Faustina that lukewarm souls caused Him His greatest suffering in the garden of his agony.
So what are we to do? Stand firm, take heart, and hope in God.
If we want hope, we need to humbly ask God for it. Make frequent acts of hope.
O my God, relying on your infinite mercy and promises, I hope to obtain pardon of my sins, the help of your grace, and life everlasting, through the merits of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Redeemer. Amen.
Avoid complaining, murmuring and making negative or critical comments. Avoid media, television and movies that have negative messages or dialogue. This does not mean living in a false optimism or denying the truth of something truly sad or evil; but it does mean we put things in proper perspective and keep our eyes on Jesus, His Kingdom and trust He has a much bigger plan for our supreme good.
Hope is closely linked to the virtues of humility and magnanimity. We need to acknowledge our wretched sinfulness AND acknowledge that we are beloved children of God. The cross tells us both these things - it was the price of our sins, and Jesus embraced it out of infinite love.
We practice magnanimity by seeking to do great things for God. And we need to see “great things” as God sees them. By the world’s standards, Mary, Jesus, the disciples and most of the saints were failures. But God sees and works differently – we need to be unreserved and generous, surrendering to God and let Him work through us as He wills. Begin with small acts of kindness for others. Write a friend or loved one a note or letter expressing your gratitude for that person. Keep gratitude and hope lists - the gratitude list for all the things and people for which your are grateful; the hope list for those you encounter who need encouragement or a boost of hope - commit to pray for them and check in with them periodically.
Hope is also closely linked with the beatitude: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” By hope, we desire God’s goodness, we desire to see Him face to face, we desire heaven for all eternity. And we desire it above all things. To strengthen this desire, we must detach our hearts from anything that keeps us from moving toward God, the “Earthly P’s”: pleasures, possessions, power and prestige. The fifth “P”, pride, underlies all of them as self-centered love. For some of us, this means God will call us to renounce them completely. For others, he asks us to discipline our use of them, holding them with open hands. Begin by giving away items that are burdening you with clutter or which are little used. Give someone a little extra time and attention. Volunteer to help someone who needs an extra hand. Deny yourself little comforts and pleasures and offer your sacrifice to Jesus. If you are used to being in control and making decisions, let someone else take the wheel - this is a great way to practice surrendering: when we do this, we must realize it won’t go all our own way and probably won’t be done as we would do it, but the more we let go of control, the freer we become and the happier we will be.
Over the course of the Triduum, let’s enter into the Gospel passages we hear and read. As our chaplain is fond of saying, it is not a distant tale about someone else. This is our story. How have we failed in the past? How have we betrayed or denied Jesus? How have we run away in fear? Whatever it is, let us bring it to the cross. Let us stand with Mary and Mary Magdalene and John. Let us join our sorrows with theirs, and let us hope for our resurrection day and the eternal joy of seeing God face to face, to know Him as we are known. Hail holy cross, our only hope!