In our second reading St. Paul instructs us, “Hope does not disappoint” he writes. His sheer confidence is a little off-putting. Does he not know how difficult it is to hope when all seems lost? Has Paul experienced the anxiety that comes from hoping things get better? Where does his optimism come from? As I’ve written before, I’m not much for optimism. The chilled touch of experience has taught me to be skeptical when someone says, “it’ll all get better.” So why am I not upset hearing these words? Why do I find myself after great loss with more change to come, strangely smiling at the horizon? I think because as I’ve written before, hope, is not wishing for a better outcome it is expecting a joyous outcome, no matter what happens.
Don’t get me wrong, to see hope as a probability is difficult, it takes a lot of guts to place all your hope on the altar of expectation, the risk of disappoint is real, the dark night, mysterious but just as any long night we await for dawn knowing it will come. I recently had a crisis of faith, or should I say, a crisis of hope recently. I experienced much loss this year and I had to go through that ‘dark night,’ asking myself, “Elliot, do you truly believe in this faith, do you really think God is there in love, mercy and truth? Or is your faith built around easier things to grasp and enjoy like community and service? On the very intangible, mystical feast of the Holy Trinity, I can say that yes. I believe in this. The deep questioning was painful but going through it I must say, like Paul, “hope does not disappoint.” So maybe I’m a little bit of an optimist after all.
I’ll be seeing you,
Elliot