This is part of a series entitled, “The Reason for Our Hope.” Read the series introduction here. To see other posts in the series, click here.

Would I have stood by the cross?

Would I have still hoped, if I had watched my Incarnate Hope die?

In this world, we suffer from our sins and the sins of others. Jesus comes to us—just as he came to the first disciples—and tells us that he has come to triumph over all the sin and death and suffering in our lives. We follow him in hope. But, like the first disciples, we have our own expectations of how Christ’s triumph ought to be worked out for us. Our expectations are usually subverted. But Jesus’ triumph in our lives far surpasses what we could imagine and what we would even dare to ask for. 

Day by day he is bringing this triumph to fulfillment, but it can be unsettling and disorienting. We pray to the point of tears but seem to receive silence. When we witness the crucifixion of our expectations, we are invited to accompany Christ in the crucifixion that he is undergoing again in us. We are invited to place our hope in Jesus and his plan.

When I see Christ my Hope betrayed and abandoned by others, will I still hope? 

When I watch as his back is torn apart by scourges again and again, will I still hope? 

When I watch as Christ my Hope is mocked and crowned with thorns, will I still hope?

When I watch as he hangs naked upon a cross, gasping for breath, will I still hope?

When the thought slithers up, “This has gone far enough. If you really are the Son of God, come down from the cross! How can you conquer evil if you are dead? Now is the time! Show your power and scatter the enemy!” will I still hope?

When I watch as his eyes close, will I still hope?

When I watch as the tomb is sealed and all is silent, will I still hope?

When I wake the next morning, 
and the tomb is still silent, 
and Christ’s body is still cold, 
will I still hope?

For every cross we carry, large or small, our hope is put to the test, and we must pray:

Jesus, give me the grace to hope in you.
Jesus, what is the act of faith you want me to make right now?
Jesus, what is the kind of hope that you want me to have right now?
Jesus, what is the love that you are purifying in me right now?

Our Lord magnifies our hope by sharing with us the intimacy of his cross. He stretches our heart only so that he may fill it all the more with his own joy. Tomorrow will come. Tomorrow, something new will happen. A joy that the world has never seen before. A joy surpassing every hope. It has already begun.

Image: Frank Bramley, A Hopeless Dawn