A Theology of Hope

Over a year ago, I was in one of the darkest places of my life.

My life was fine. There weren’t extraordinary circumstances that I was facing that were driving me to a place of despair. Honestly, I don’t really understand why I was there, but there was no denying that I was succumbing to hopelessness.

Like the write of Ecclesiastes, my mind was overwhelmed by this sense that everything was meaningless. I didn’t think that anything really mattered. I was angry, bitter, and hopeless without a clue as to why I felt that way.

Everything was meaningless. It was all nonsense. People striving for this or for that, clamoring for whatever, and clinging to whatever little they had. There was so much noise, as if someone was walking around with cymbals, banging them ceaselessly. Words meant nothing. I meant nothing. It was all so frustrating.

Then something switched.

I can’t put words as to why this switch happened, but it did. I didn’t try to get out of where I was. I don’t think I prayed, meditated, or sought counsel to be lifted out of this place of despair. There is no reason I can think of as to what happened.

But hope entered the picture. Where once I said, “Everything is meaningless,” with a scowl, I began to say, “Everything is meaningless,” with a laugh. It really was all nonsense. People striving for this or for that, clamoring for whatever, and clinging to whatever little they had. It wasn’t frustrating anymore, though. It just seemed silly.

There was so much noise about things that didn’t matter. People, including myself, were clinging so tightly to empty jars, hoping they’d be filled with something. To cling tightly to anything really is meaningless. Closed fists never achieved any good, or at least not nearly as much as an open hand and an open heart.

Life is rather silly. Have you ever looked down from a high place and wondered at all the movement below? Maybe you were on a plane that was descending into a new city, and you watched the cars below you rushing to their next destination. Maybe you were on a skyscraper, peering at the people below hustling to and fro. Don’t they seem silly?

They have lives and a purpose that drives them, but people are in a rush to the next thing. They’re so stressed and worried about today, tomorrow, and the far-off future. They are driven by despair. That was me, and it may be you too.

What if instead we were driven by an overwhelming sense of hope? What if we knew that bad things were of course going to happen, but that there is no reason to stress over intangible future events?

We will suffer. We can’t escape it. But why should we let suffering consume us, especially worrying about future suffering?

If I understand Jesus correctly, he seems to have reminded us that there is no reason to worry about tomorrow, because there is only today. There is only right now, and this moment is beautiful. Right now is all there is. Even if this moment hurts, can this moment be made beautiful?

I believe it. I hope so, and my hope drives me to make it so.

All shall be well, even though we may be facing the darkest period of our lives.

All shall be well, even though we are stuck in this place of despair.

All shall be well, even though right now it is not well.

The entire created order is in the process of redemption. It may not feel this way, and all signs may be pointing to the opposite. But I am going to choose to hope in the process of redemption, that I can aid in this process of redemption.

I’ve been on the other side, where I saw everything as meaningless, that striving for beauty was hopeless. It wasn’t fun.

I choose to smile in the face of despair, in the footsteps of suffering.

May we, my friends, laugh in our world today. There is reason to hope, even if it is only to satisfy our needs for today.

Hope is powerful. Let us hold on to it with open hands and open hearts.