Dare to Hope

     So I wrote my last post here about faith, so I thought, you know what, might as well write about the other two theological virtues, because they’re intimately related and because they’re awesome - in the full heavens-thundering-volcanoes-erupting-foundations-of-the-earth-trembling sense of the word. Someone remind me to do a post/rant later on the twenty-first century’s annoying habit of leaving language out in the rain to die.

     Hope, like faith, is a response. God has revealed himself to the world as its savior, as the light that will forever banish the darkness, should we choose to let it. The beauty of faith is that it is freely rational. Now that we have faith, that is where hope comes in to play. Faith, the greatest light the world can ever know, promises us the joy of eternal life with God, but it demands of us sainthood. We are, each and every one of us, called to a life of purity and perfection. 

     And that perfection is just absolutely, stupidly, hard. Satan and his minions prowl the world like voracious lions, and small, puny sinners like myself are their meal. Sin is a reality that we face every single day and it is a battle that is downright exhausting. But our God will not be deprived of us so easily, no sir. He has given us the gift of Reconciliation. I don’t know about you, but going to Reconciliation is hard, sometimes it seems just as hard as fighting sin. Which is why we need a constant reminder of its power. 

So here goes:

     Reconciliation cuts right to the core. It doesn’t whittle away at sin, it destroys it. It is the boot that stomps right on the head of the serpent and crushes its skull so that its forked tongue, deceitful promises, and disgusting sliminess may never pollute this good earth again. Reconciliation is our .44 Magnum that we point at sin, asking it, “You feeling lucky, punk?” and then without a moment’s hesitation, blow its brains out. (Revised fifth commandment: Thou shalt not kill, unless thou art killing sin, then go nuts).

      Faith calls us to be saints, yes, or to put it more clearly, faith calls us to badasses for Jesus. And Reconciliation is the key that unlocks our God given gift of badassery! How cool is that! Once you leave that confessional, you are in a state of grace equal to that of soul in heaven and your sins have been washed away by the Blood of the Lamb, never to be seen or heard from again. At this point, we are essentially new men and women, free of guilt, free of the proverbial ball and chain, able and willing to be a living sacrament that dispenses the promise of salvation to the entire world.

     At least for a little while. Because the next day at school, or when you’re out with your friends, or home alone, sin shows up again and knocks you back to the ground. So , eventually, you dust yourself off and you go back to confession, this time, a bit embarrassed because it’s only been two weeks and you’re already back in the hole. You load up your Magnum, embrace your inner badass, and shoot sin in the face again. Only to go home and find it standing there bigger and badder than ever. Right there, that first sin after Reconciliation, in my opinion, that’s what hurts the most. It’s a slap in the face, a reminder that I am human and a I am weak. And after being knocked down again and again and again, I ask myself, what’s the point? Falling down hurts, so shouldn’t I just stay on the ground? Is it even worth it to get back up?

The answer is yes.

     We have to believe that this time we will do better, that after confessing our sins for hundredth, the thousandth time, that we can change. “By the grace of God, I will sin no more and avoid the near occasion of sin.” That is hope. The devotion of mind, body, and soul to the truth that we are not saved by our own merits, but by God’s infinite grace. No sin is too big for God to conquer and so we have to keep going back, for it is “in hope we have been saved.” (Rom 8:24)

     Our bodies are Temples of God, and they are under siege by the forces of sin and evil.... I don’t know about you, but I’m getting kind of tired with this generalizing ambiguous language. Here’s the deal. We’re King Theoden at the Battle of Helm’s Deep. Ten thousand Uruk-Hai are storming over the walls and the keep is all but taken. “What can man do against such reckless hate?” We listen to Aragorn of course! “Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them.” So we draw our swords together, nock our arrows, sound the Horn of Helm Hammerhand, and charge! Forth Eorlingas! We may be surrounded, outnumbered, facing certain certain death, but we did it, we rode out, we dared to hope. And because we did, we look to the east and there sits God Himself, clothed in glory atop a stallion of purest white and with the morning sun rising behind Him, He charges down into the valley of darkness with the entire hosts of heaven streaming out behind Him. 

It's stuff like this that makes me love being Catholic.

God bless,
Matt