Jack Hardaway
]
“Hope is not a plan.”
I hear that a lot.
It’s an old and popular quote.
I usually respond that hope is a theological virtue.
Which always gets me a funny look.
A theological virtue, that is a funny turn of phrase, it deserves a funny look.
It is an ancient idea and perception, hope as a God-virtue, that hope is this free lance force of nature at loose in the world, beyond our control, like an arch angel, vast expansive wings whose wind fills all things with breath.
It deserves a funny look.
Hope. We’ve made it too small and passive and shallow, like that thin forced smile of optimism cloaking despair. No wonder it gets dismissed and treated like an excuse.
Just as there are only four living creatures with their many wings and eyes for the four Gospels, the Man, the Lion, the Ox and the Eagle.
Just as there are only four arch angels, Michael, Uriel, Gabrael and Raphael.
There are only three theological virtues at loose in the world, faith, hope and love.
And hope is what we are about right now.
A wild being, at loose, storming the darkness.
There is nothing sweet or cute about it.
It is imposing, intruding, disrupting.
Like when the shepherds fled in terror before the angels of Bethlhem, proclaimng to fear not.
Hope wakes us from sleep like that.
Banishing fear.
Bidding us fear nor while scaring us half to death.
Hope is invasive, even predatory.
Hope is a four letter word.
Beware. Keep awake.
Hope wakes us up, it keeps us awake, we hold our breath.
Hope takes practice.
That is Advent, the season of the hope, the waiting and the longing that is so overwhelming that it hurts.
It is how we begin the year, it is how we mark the beginning of time, it is how we measure time.
We practice.
We begin with an apocalytic vision of the world in Mark’s Gospel, all the idols that enslave us being crushed, and the world staggering as it is set free, ragged and in a cold sweat.
We see the world we know fall apart.
What do we do when our world falls apart?
We practice hope.
Hope has a shape, it is tactile, it has muscles and bones, blood and skin and breath, the flesh of Jesus.
We hope because we have a vison of the world being made whole, we have a concept of humanity being made whole, the body of Christ.
We hope because we know there is more, and we can taste it, the bread of heaven.
There is a God intendedness to creation, and life.
There is judgement, a settling, a restoring, a purpose that will not be denied.
We hope becuase we long for God’s judement.
So instead of passing judgement we pass hope.
When the world falls apart, and has no meaning, we practice hope knowing that the world is full of God intended goodness, direction and purpose.
Hope is as stubborn and contrary as a bent nail.
We give our selves over, we are shaped and changed, into the image of the God who is the fullness of hope, who is full of waiting and longing for what will be.
So we practice the hope that is wild and beligerant, that shapes us as a storm shapes the sandy beach, eroding and building up all at once.
Bidding us fear not while scaring us half to death.
When the world falls apart, be the storm that fills it up again.
Deserve a funny look.
Maybe even raise a few brows.