Hope - something more?

Our Lent Lectures at Guildford Cathedral have responded to the phrase 'Do not be afraid': hearing it perhaps as a challenge, an invitation, an imperative or word of assurance. We've been thinking about Catherine Clancy's exhibition on that theme (on display at the Cathedral this Lent). We have been considering which images draw us in, either because they resonate with us or intrigue us; and which paintings we find difficult because, perhaps because they're too bright or because we struggle to find a point of connection.

This Lenten journey has taken us from courage to a hesitant and generous love; from the presence of God in clouds to the peace of Christ in storms. We have thought about fear, grace and suffering; renewed vision, resilience and creativity. And now on the cusp of Holy Week, as we turn our hearts and minds to Jerusalem, I will contemplate the nature of hope.  Hope is shaped by scripture, poetry and art; drawing together our traditions, experiences and imaginations. It's an opportunity to think about where God meets us in the complexity of our lives - and how his Spirit draws us onwards in the face of death to new life.

If we type the word hope into Google, a whole range of images are thrown up: we might find a rather energetic figure looking to the future: outstretched arms embracing new horizons as day breaks.  It looks full of optimism, if a little romantic.   Perhaps we stumble across an image that depicts new life in inauspicious circumstances; flourishing or growth against the odds.

Some images have a recognizably religious feel: candles burning - we don't know why they're lit; the light is flickering in the darkness.  Flames as a sign of our prayers offered amidst confusion, curiosity, hope and love; tentative or assured expressions of faith made by human beings on a journey.


There are resonances of Jesus Christ, light of the world; perhaps in lighting a candle we are placing our trust in God; reaching out towards or acknowledging his presence near us. We staking a claim; naming a hope when we can least articulate it.

Finally, there's an image of sensing the dawn as it breaks; we feel the light pouring in as well as seeing it; even in the darkness, even in brokenness something of the beyond is breaking in.

Hope is a University and a Hospice: places of learning and living life in the face of death.  Hope is a radio station; a Swedish clothing company; a creative design agency. It's associated with inspiring or encouraging listening; an alternative lifestyle brand; developing corporate identities. Turn to Wikipedia - the source beloved of student and scorned by tutors - we find hope described as an optimistic attitude of mind based on an expectation of positive outcomes related to events and circumstances in one's life or the world at large. 

Psychologists, leaders, literary critics and cultural commentators all have something to say about 'hope'. But surely there is more to it than that? Hope isn't a brand, a naive wish fulfillment or transference theory.  However, it is important to acknowledge this dilution of hope; it might help us to make connections whilst witnessing to the good news of Christ.

We glimpse part of that 'more than' when we kept the feast of the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin Mary: it's a day that in a sense takes us to the heart of hope.  When this joyful celebration falls in Passion-tide, as it does this year, there are deeper resonances. We can't simply romanticize this moment of encounter - between a young woman and an angel.  It is an occasion of thanks and praise; yet Mary needs to ponder the mystery and cost of the message. Following a greeting full of honour and grace, the words that fall from Gabriel's lips are 'do not be afraid'.  His assurance enables Mary to hear this promise with faith.

 The Annunciation- Fra Angelico (1387-1455)

By the power of the Spirit she conceives. Yet, as the words of the Preface express it: From the warmth of her womb / to the stillness of the grave / he shared our life in human form. To sing, 'all my hope on God is founded' is to fix our eyes on Christ: our prayer continues in him a new light has dawned upon the world / and you have become one with us / that we might become one with you.

We know the incarnation of God's Son by the message of angel; we pray that by his cross and passion we be brought to the glory of his resurrection.  That is the foundation of our hope: a God whose generous love is made known to us not just in the mystery and awe of the created order, but in abiding with us. Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. It is not just that 'with-us-ness' that gives us hope; but it is the assurance of forgiveness and the renewal of vision.  Whatever we face and endure now, is not the ultimate reality.