“Brightness of Hope”
Neal A. Maxwell
Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles
(October 1994)
For some years, brothers and sisters, there has been an
increasing and profound sense of existential despair in the world. This mortal
hopelessness both reflects and affects much of mankind. Whether tribal or
national, wars constitute “the continued experience of twentieth-century man”
(Paul Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory, London: Oxford
University Press, 1975, p. 74). A grumpy cynicism pervades politics in so many
places on this planet. Holocausts, famine, pestilence, and tides of refugees
have taken a terrible toll on human hope, with much of that toll coming from
man-made, avoidable disasters. Causality can be assigned to one or another form
of iniquity. No wonder, as the scriptures say, despair comes of iniquity! (See Moro.
10:22.)
Of course, many disagree over what constitutes sin, but surely
they do not welcome the deepening of human despair! Some moderns do not lament
the loss of traditional faith either, but surely they lament the further loss
of hope and charity, ever in such short supply anyway.
Does hope really matter, or is it merely an antique virtue?
Without hope, what is the future of lubricating forgiveness
among the human family? Without hope, why forgo now in order to preserve
precious resources for future generations? Without hope, what will keep the
remaining idealism from also souring into cynicism and thereby laying waste to
governments and families—institutions already in such serious jeopardy?
A coalition of consequences is emerging. As prophesied, the love
of many waxes cold (see Matt.
24:12). Even those affectionally secure themselves can sense the
chill in the air. The loss of hope sends selfishness surging, as many turn,
even more intensively, to pleasing themselves. The diminished sense of sin
diminishes shame, that hot, sharp spur needed for repentance. Shame is often
replaced by the arrogance of those morally adrift, including strutting
celebrities whose outer boldness camouflages their inner emptiness. Henry David
Thoreau correctly observed that “unconscious despair is concealed even under
what are called the games and amusement of mankind” (Walden, New York: Harper and
Row, 1965, p. 7). No wonder so much hollow laughter emanates from the “lonely
crowd.”
As societies trivialize traditional values, we witness a flow of
immense suffering. We anguish, for instance, over what happens to the unborn,
who cannot vote, and to children at risk. We weep over children having children
and children shooting children. Often secular remedies to these challenges are
not based on spiritual principles. To borrow a metaphor—secular remedies
resemble an alarmed passenger traveling on the wrong train who tries to
compensate by running up the aisle in the opposite direction!
Only the acceptance of the revelations of God can bring both
direction and correction and, in turn, bring a “brightness of hope” (2
Ne. 31:20). Real hope does not automatically “spring eternal” unless
it is connected with eternal things!
“What is it that ye shall hope for?” Moroni wrote. “Behold I say
unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ” (Moro.
7:41; see also Alma
27:28). From this triumphal act, resulting in the eventual
resurrection of all mankind, so many lesser hopes derive their significance!
Prophets have always had and taught ultimate hope in Christ.
Jacob wrote, “We knew of Christ, and we had a hope of his glory many hundred
years before his coming; and … also all the holy prophets which were before us”
(Jacob
4:4).
You and I can be repeatedly reassured concerning this grand hope
by the Comforter, who teaches us the truth about “things as they really are,
and … really will be” (Jacob
4:13; see also Moro.
8:26). Such hope constitutes the “anchor of the soul” (Heb.
6:19). Such hope is retained through faith in Christ (see Alma
25:16; Ether
12:9). In contrast, a resurrection-less view of life produces only
proximate hope (see 1
Cor. 15:19).
Having ultimate hope does not mean we will always be rescued
from proximate problems, but we will be rescued from everlasting death!
Meanwhile, ultimate hope makes it possible to say the same three words used
centuries ago by three valiant men. They knew God could rescue them from the
fiery furnace, if He chose. “But if not,” they said, nevertheless, they would
still serve Him! (Dan.
3:18.)
Unsurprisingly the triad of faith, hope, and charity, which
brings us to Christ, has strong and converging linkage: faith is in the Lord
Jesus Christ, hope is in His atonement, and charity is the “pure love of
Christ”! (See Ether
12:28; Moro.
7:47.) Each of these attributes qualifies us for the celestial
kingdom (see Moro.
10:20–21; Ether
12:34). Each, first of all, requires us to be meek and lowly (see Moro.
7:39, 43).
Faith and hope are constantly interactive, and may not always be
precisely distinguished or sequenced. Though not perfect knowledge either, hope’s
enlivened expectations are “with surety” true (Ether
12:4; see also Rom.
8:24; Heb.
11:1; Alma
32:21). In the geometry of restored theology, hope has a greater
circumference than faith. If faith increases, the perimeter of hope stretches
correspondingly.
Just as doubt, despair, and desensitization go together, so do
faith, hope, and charity. The latter, however, must be carefully and constantly
nurtured, whereas despair, like dandelions, needs so little encouragement to
sprout and spread. Despair comes so naturally to the natural man!
Souls can be roused and rallied by hope’s “reveille” as by no
other music. Even if comrades slumber or desert, “lively hope” performs like a
reconnoitering scout out in advance of God’s columns; “there is hope smiling
brightly before us” (see 1
Pet. 1:3; Hymns, 1985, no. 19). Hope
caused disciples to go quickly and expectantly to an empty garden tomb (see Mark
16:1–8; Luke
24:8–12). Hope helped a prophet to see rescuing rain in a distant
cloud which appeared to be no larger than a man’s hand (see 1
Kgs. 18:41–46).
Significantly, those who look forward to a next and better world
are usually “anxiously engaged” in improving this one, for they “always abound
in good works” (D&C
58:27; Alma
7:24). Thus, real hope is much more than wishful musing. It
stiffens, not slackens, the spiritual spine. It is composed, not giddy, eager
without being naive, and pleasantly steady without being smug. Hope is
realistic anticipation taking the form of determination—a determination not
merely to survive but to “endure … well” to the end (D&C
121:8).
While weak hope leaves us at the mercy of our moods and events,
“brightness of hope” produces illuminated individuals. Their luminosity is
seen, and things are also seen by it! Such hope permits us to “press forward”
even when dark clouds oppress (see 2
Ne. 31:16, 20; Heb.
6:19; Ether
12:4; Col.
1:23). Sometimes in the deepest darkness there is no external
light—only an inner light to guide and to reassure.
Though “anchored” in grand and ultimate hope, some of our
tactical hopes are another matter. We may hope for a pay raise, a special date,
an electoral victory, or for a bigger house—things which may or may not be
realized. Faith in Father’s plan gives us endurance even amid the wreckage of such
proximate hopes. Hope keeps us “anxiously engaged” in good causes even when
these appear to be losing causes (see D&C
58:27).
Hope helps us to walk by faith, not by sight. This can actually
be safer. When unaided spiritually, natural sight often shrinks from the odds
(see 2
Cor. 5:7). It is immobilized by improbabilities. Mauled by his moods
and intimidated by his fears, the natural man overreacts to, while hope
overrides, the disappointments of the day.
Hope is particularly needed in the hand-to-hand combat required
to put off the natural man (see Mosiah
3:19). Giving up on God and on oneself constitutes simultaneous
surrender to the natural man.
Daily hope is vital, since the “Winter Quarters” of our lives
are not immediately adjacent to our promised land either. An arduous trek still
awaits, but hope spurs weary disciples on.
Those with true hope often see their personal circumstances
shaken, like kaleidoscopes, again and again. Yet with the “eye of faith,” they
still see divine pattern and purpose (Alma
5:15).
By pressing forward, we can stand on what was yesterday’s horizon,
thereby drawing hope from our own experiences. Hence Paul described how
“tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope” (Rom.
5:3–4). Therefore we sing, “We’ve proved him in days that are past” (Hymns, 1985,
no. 19).
Hope feasts on the words of Christ, “written for our learning,”
so that “having all these witnesses” through the “comfort of the scriptures
[we] might have hope” (Rom.
15:4; Jacob
4:6; see also 2
Ne. 31:20). We sing, too, of how “more holiness” involves having
“more hope in his word” (Hymns, 1985, no. 131).
Genuine hope is urgently needed in order to be more loving even
as the love of many waxes cold; more merciful, even when misunderstood or misrepresented;
more holy, even as the world ripens in iniquity; more courteous and patient in
a coarsening and curt world; and more full of heartfelt hope, even when other
men’s hearts fail them. Whatever our particular furrow, we are to “plow in
hope,” without looking back or letting yesterday hold tomorrow hostage (1
Cor. 9:10).
Hope can be contagious, so we are to be “ready always to give an
answer to every man that asketh … a reason of the hope that is in [us]” (1
Pet. 3:15). If, said Brother Brigham, we do not impart knowledge to
others and do good, then we “will become … contracted” in our views and feelings
(Journal
of Discourses, 2:267). Despair is contraction at the end of
its journey.
Genuine hope gives spiritual spunk, including to deserving
parents drenched in honest sweat from being “anxiously engaged.” Just as the
leaning Tower of Pisa is a persistent rebuke to architectural pessimism, so
parental hope—by refusing to topple merely because of the gravity of the
current family situation—is a repudiation of despair. Giving parents never give
up hope!
Though otherwise “lively,” hope stands quietly with us at
funerals. Our tears are just as wet, but not because of despair. Rather, they
are tears of appreciation evoked by poignant separation. They will change,
erelong, to tears of glorious anticipation. Yet the emptiness is so real and so
restless it initiates a retroactive inventory of what is now so painfully
missing, doing so, however, while forecasting fulness and resplendent reunion!
Humble hope helps us to improve by being sufficiently free of
ego to ask, “Lord, is it I?” (Matt.
26:22.) Submissive hope also readies us to “give away all [our]
sins” because we have come to know Jesus, who alone can take them! (Alma
22:18.)
Gospel hope keeps us from being muted by being either a naive
Pollyanna or a despairing Cassandra. Voices of warning are meant to be heard,
not just raised.
Being blessed with hope, let us, as disciples, reach out to all
who, for whatever reason, have “moved away from the hope of the gospel” (Col.
1:23). Let us reach to lift hands which hang hopelessly down.
Hope beckons all of us to come home where a glow reflects the
Light of the World, whose “brightness and glory defy all description” (JS—H
1:17). Jesus waits “with open arms to receive” those who finally
overcome by faith and hope (Morm.
6:17). His welcome will consist not of a brief, loving pat but,
instead, of being “clasped in the arms of Jesus”! (Morm.
5:11).
These Primary children will soon sing about wishing “that
[Jesus’] arms had been thrown around [them]” (Children’s Songbook, p. 56).
They and we can “hope, and even know” of such sacred things! (Alma
28:12.)
Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
“Hope
Over Despair”
cji
12/24/17
Entrapped
within the worldly
too many
seeking justifications
exercising
unrighteous dominions
finding
excuses to discourage
bringing
others to their level
giving
none hope only despair
while
the Savior gives repair
lifting
up hope at all levels
giving
all extra courage
overcoming
satan’s minions
ratifying
God’s reconciliations
freed
from snares of the worldly!
Copyright © 2017 – cji
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