On Christian Hope by Br. Karekin

I have often struggled with the choice between two futures; one that I can discern with my limited vision and the other that belongs to Christ. I believe that there are, in fact, two futures.

The first, the one that I discern, is the future that is obvious to me given the facts that I can see. Given the circumstances of today’s world, that future seems mighty bleak. It is filled with the effects of environmental degradation, poor international relationships related to human politics, a lack of social justice, and a culture that seems increasingly divorced from ethical and moral direction. It is into this future that I often project all of my plans, my hopes and desires for my life… my career choices, my future education plans, my desire to one day own a home, or whether I will write that collection of poetry I’ve always wanted to write.

It is that other future that I often lose sight of, the one that is rooted in the faith that God is working in the world in surprising ways, and that God in Christ has a plan for the whole of Creation that includes redemption, real justice, and the love that typifies the reign of God on earth. As Saint Paul says in Ephesians… we are to “set our hope on Christ” who has a plan to, in the fullness of time, gather up all things in himself – all things in heaven and on earth.

Being raised among die hard Scottish Presbyterians in a rural community of like-minded Protestants, I am afraid that I was raised with a rather pessimistic view of human nature and our capacity for redemption. It is a legacy that I often hope I have left behind in my decision to become an Episcopalian and, hence, a member of God’s one, holy, catholic and apostolic church. Our catholic view of humanity is very much at odds with the Protestant understanding that I was raised with. It is a view that believes that human kind is good, innately good, and predisposed to goodness in spite of our sin. The Protestant view that I inherited believes quite the opposite – that we are predisposed to sin rather than goodness and that given a choice we will almost always choose sin. Therein lies my struggle and my choice. Either I believe that I am redeemed or I do not. Either I hope in a future that has been redeemed by God… or I do not.

I entered religious life in my twenties as a way of participating in the redemption that God has planned for the world. I believed then, and still do, that God has a plan for the future that is beyond my knowing and beyond my understanding. My choice to live my faith in this concrete way in the world was a choice to enter into God’s purpose as a way of life. It is a choice to do the work I believe God calls me to do as a way of helping to bring forth that purpose in the world. It is an act of hope and an act of trust. Having made this choice, I daily try to confront the future that I can discern with my two eyes and say “No… God has something better in mind.”

It is by the choice to live in this manner, dedicated to the work necessary to prepare the way for the reign of God, that I avoid the kind of quietism that is a danger to our lives as faithful Christians. It is too easy to slide into apathy when we believe that God alone will take care of the future – and quietly retreat into lives of inaction or complacency. In Baptism, God and I established a Covenant with one another. God promised me certain rights and gifts when I was baptized, but also asked that I take on certain duties in return. I need to remember that these duties are not simply about the way I see or think about the world in my life of faith. They are not simply about what I believe but what I do – the actions I take as a result.

I am asked to strive for justice, to resist evil, to continue in faith, to respect the dignity of all, to proclaim the Good News, to seek and serve. These are all duties that involve choice and action. All of these duties come to bear on the future that I choose to live for and the hope that I choose to live into. Further, before I make these promises, I vow to renounce the forces of wickedness and evil, to renounce desires that are contrary to God’s purposes, to accept Christ as the power that transforms and saves me, and most importantly… to put all of my trust in Christ’s grace and love. These all have profound implications for the measure of Christian hope that I allow to take hold of my vision.

If I were a perfect Christian, then the choice between the kind of future I see and the kind of future that I trust God will unfold for us would be a simple one. But I am not perfect and my faith often falters. To live a Christian life within my Covenant with God, with all of its benefits and responsibilities, requires a great deal of patience, humility, quietness, prayer, and above all trust. I try my best. The delicate balancing act between these two futures is the story of my faith life in its entirety. The struggles, the victories, the doubts and the hopes all have their rightful place in this struggle.

As long as I still see as through a mirror, darkly, I choose to hope in a future beyond my capacity to see or understand. Although I am often tempted to allow my own view of the future to eclipse the one that Christian hope demands, God reminds me at the Eucharist of the vision of the future to which we are called. If I choose to act with the certainty that God needs our participation to make that future happen, and as long as I am willing to do my part, then my hope shall never be lost. Christ will surely see to it that all will be well.