The Entire Thought

We Have Hope

The disciples were walking along dejectedly. One of them said: “I hoped Jesus would liberate Israel from Roman occupation.” The other one replied: “I hoped he would bring the kingdom of God down to earth.”

Or let’s imagine a scenario closer to home: You and a friend figured out a brilliant new business idea. You found a venture
capitalist who said he would bankroll your project. All excited, you both quit your jobs, cashed your pensions, got a second
mortgage—and hoped to be rich. But before the deal was made, your backer was killed in an accident. You and your friend meet for a drink to commiserate. You say: “I hoped to retire at 40.” He says: “I hoped to go national.”

Now, why do you and your friend and the disciples keep talking about what might have been? Jesus and George are dead; they are not coming back to life. But hope is hard to kill. We don’t want to give up. We will accept hope from anyone, even strangers.

Like the stranger who started to walk with the disciples. He seemed to know even more about Jesus than the disciples did. He pinpointed his place in Jewish scripture all the way back to Abraham. He was so convincing that the disciples were almost ready to buy into his explanation. But no—they had lost hope once; it hurt too much to hope again.

Meanwhile, a stranger sits down beside you and says: “I happened to overhear your conversation. I am in the same field as you. And I think your idea has merit. So much so that I would like to invest in your
project.” You and your friend are amazed at your good fortune and thrilled that someone else understands. You are about to make the deal when you both look at each other and say: “No, we have already lost our jobs, our homes—we cannot dare hope this will finally turn out right.”

Which brings up a good question: What do any of us dare to hope for? They were just ordinary
fishermen, you are just ordinary businessmen. Maybe you and they set your hopes too high; maybe it’s better to aim lower and have a better chance of success. Or not even hope at all, and never be disappointed.

But a hopeless life is a dreary, inhuman life. So how can we integrate hope in a realistic way? Is there any guarantee for any hope at all? Yes. The one hope that is always fulfilled is the hope of living forever with God. Every other hope depends on that one.

On earth, however, God does not micro-manage, so our hopes can be misplaced, even with the best intentions. In fact, they are just misguided wishes unless they can be fitted in as part of our personal journey to God.

To finish the story: The disciples invited the stranger to dinner. They asked him to say grace. He prayed: “Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation; through your goodness we have this bread to offer. It is my body.” The disciples were stunned into recognition. They immediately realized that their hopes had been
fulfilled beyond all imagining.

When our journey is over, we will sit down at table with Jesus. He will say: “So we don’t eat together as strangers, let me introduce you. This is my Father. These are my friends.” And we will be stunned into
recognition of the God we could never see before. And our wildest hopes will be fulfilled.

Entire list of Thoughts While Pastoring