We talk in these pages about our culture, which is clearly a Culture of Death.  But this is this because it is a Culture of Despair, a society that cultivates Despair and makes it bearable by making it fashionable and natural.

Despair is opposed to Hope.  Have you ever pondered the attacks upon Hope in the modern world?  I am convinced that Hope is the most despised of the virtues, more so than chastity.  It’s cool to be cynical and sarcastic and bitter – this is urbanity, it is chic.  To be hopeful we must become like little children, and that invokes derisive laughter from the professionally disappointed around us, who have hardened their hearts to life.  But we must become vulnerable again and forego the callousness that shields men from the things that make the poets sing.

Hope is a bridge between Faith and Love.  When you assent to the evidence of things not seen, you have Faith.  When you serve what you do not see, this is Love.  In both cases you have a kind of provisional possession of the object, either in your conception of it (for Faith is a “substance” – Heb. 11:1) or in your bearing it forth (for Faith works through love – Gal. 5:6).  But the odd act of will – the bittersweet longing in the breast – that comes between Faith and Love is Hope; and Hope is all about a longing for and a movement toward that which is not yet (completely) here.

I don’t know about you, but there are dozens of things in my life that should not be here.  From a realistic (much less cynical) point of view, I should not be here.  There is no reason why I should be alive, have a family that loves me, have a vocation I am able to follow.  Nevertheless, in my cynical moments, I doubt every little thing, from the beauty I long for to our ability to pay the mortgage.  From one point of view I have every reason to hope; from another I have no reason, and Hope seems to be the most unreasonable thing in the world.

But think of Peter when he stepped out of that boat.  Here’s the boat; there’s My Lord.  Between him and me is a lake that will swallow me up.  Stepping out of that boat and moving toward Him is the archetypal Act of Hope.

So don’t despair.  Don’t fret the bad bishops, the ugly culture, the looming financial meltdown.  We are called forth to walk on water.  There’s no reason we should be able to, and when we can’t, we just need to reach out our hands, and He will save us.

Meanwhile, for the worldly wise, Hope is utterly unreasonable.  It is anything but wise; it is foolish.  But God chose the foolish things of the world that He might put to shame those who are wise (1 Cor. 1:27).  So be foolish.  Step out of that boat.  Hope.