Gordon McPhee

                                               John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15

WHAT HOPE LOOKS LIKE

Introduction:

Welcome to our Pentecost Sunday service. In the days of the first apostles, it was called Shavuot (shuh-voo-owt), the Feast of the Weeks, and was celebrated on the 50th day, or seven weeks, after the sheaf offering of the harvest celebrated during Passover. In the Hellenistic days of Jesus’ time, it took on the Greek name, Pentecost, meaning 50th. Shavuot was a celebration of the beginning of the wheat harvest, the earliest grain harvest, and so became a symbol of hope for the rest of the year. Over time, especially after the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD and the rise of the rabbinic period in Judaism, it became associated with the giving of the Law at Mount Sinai and so it was customary during Shavuot to study the Torah and to read the Book of Ruth. These were both powerful symbols of hope embodied in covenant and redemption.

In our Christian celebration of Pentecost, hope is also a key message. We usually focus on the spectacular. Fire and Wind as the Holy Spirit fills the room where the disciples hid and prayed. Spilling out into the streets a huge crowd gathers to witness the amazing event. Peter is inspired and preaches the first “come to Jesus - tent revival” and three thousand are baptized; Billy Graham eat your heart out. But the only reason any of this came about was the faint glimmer of hope that brought them together in the first place; a tiny gathering of directionless believers. Jews who, having been with Jesus, couldn’t simply forget the teaching, the signs, the person who though crucified and dead was also alive. They were afraid to speak up or do anything, now that Jesus wasn’t there leading them. Hopeless, and yet, something brought them together to tenuously wait and hope for something they could not express or imagine. And is that not often how we feel as we come together to worship?

Today, I’d like us to examine “What HOPE looks like” in this morning’s scripture readings. They all have something to teach us about hope and I’m, pun intended, hoping they will help us recognize ‘Hope’ in our daily walk with Jesus.

Sermon:

Hope, although elevated in words to the highest degree of respect and value, is, in practice, often despaired of and regarded as weakness, a turning away from action in the face of the inevitable. The hope of a new life is eclipsed by contraception and abortion, and the hope of a useful future is smothered by euthanasia. In practice, we don’t acknowledge the possibility of what God will do in a new life brought into the world, no matter the circumstance. And, in practice, we don’t acknowledge what God may accomplish in a life in which we cannot see the value.

Hope, for us, is usually ‘hope for’ something. It is not enough for us to simply have hope, in the face of whatever challenges us, whatever comes our way, or the way of a loved one. We desire, and I dare say, demand, that there must be a visible, realizable goal at the fulcrum of hope so that what we invest there can balance against despair. But I think much of what we see happening in the world today testifies that this view of hope is not sufficient to work effectively against the evil that surrounds us, nor the despair it engenders.

The scriptures we read today open a window of hope and we are treated to a view that doesn’t depend upon what we are hoping for. And I know you’re anticipating me to say, “It depends on who we are hoping for,” but today I’m going to disappoint your well-greased evangelical acumen.

The hope the world offers, for something or someone, is insufficient to answer our needs because it comes from within us. The evidence that hoping in our own strength is just so much wishful thinking speaks for itself.

You cannot save yourself. From cover to cover, the Scriptures make that clear. Just as the disciples huddled together in uncertainty and fear until the Holy Spirit came upon them at Pentecost, our hope must come from Jesus Christ, not ourselves. Not hope in Jesus but hope from Jesus. Filled with His Spirit I have hope to overcome all this world of sin and despair throws at me. So, what does hope look like? Well, it looks like Ezekiel 37:1-14.

“Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there’s nothing left of us (Ez 37:11 MSG)” says the house of Israel through the prophet Ezekiel. Not just a corpse or a valley strewn with dead bodies, but an open plain filled with old dry bones, bleached by the sun, as far as the eye can see. And God asks the incredulous question, “Can these bones live?” Ezekiel replies hesitatingly, “Master God, only you know that (37:3)” for his real answer is what ours would be, “Of course not.” But God is not daunted.

Ezekiel obeys God, prophesying they will be made whole again, sinew and flesh, and the breath of life will enter them. The first part occurs immediately but the restored bodies are lifeless, “they had not breath in them. (37:8)” Ezekiel obeys God’s command to prophesy again but only to the breath. And just like on the day of Pentecost when the breath comes from the four winds, the Holy Spirit, and breathes life into the hopelessness of the disciples, so the bodies of the dry bones stand up and come to life. From utter hopelessness to renewed life of the people of God. Not out of any hope or vision of Ezekiel, but because God says “I’ll breathe my life into you and you’ll live. … and you’ll realize that I am God. I’ve said it and I’ll do it. God’s Decree. (37:14)” Ezekiel had only to obey.

The disciples were obeying Jesus’ last command to them to wait in Jerusalem until the Comforter, the Friend he would send, came to them. They had no idea who this might be or how or when this would be manifest. They had no reason or object of hope, no vision of what or who they were hoping for, but they obeyed and stayed together in Jerusalem. On the day of Pentecost, their bones were renewed, and life was breathed into them by the Holy Spirit. Their hope was from the Lord Jesus, trusting in and obeying His commands, His Word, as it is also ours. So, what does hope look like? Well, it looks like Romans 8:22-28.

Writing to the church in Rome Paul encourages them to patience, waiting, using the illusion of a woman enduring the seemingly endless months of pregnancy. It would seem at first, I’m contradicting myself because, in this case, they are waiting for something. As Paul puts it, “These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. (Rm 8:23)” But although their expectation, this is not their hope. They don’t see what is enlarging them, they cannot envision it, so it is useless to engender human hope. The difficult times of testing and pain we see in the world around us Paul describes as “birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. (ibid)” But we don’t know what the outcome is, we don’t see it, and any hope from within will fail.

“Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. (8:26)” Our hope is the sure promise that God through Christ Jesus in the Holy Spirit is doing this for us.

Life is getting you down, you don’t feel like praying, things seem to be getting worse, not better, and there’s just no glimmer on the horizon, no light in the tunnel; be patient. “He knows us far better than we know ourselves [. He] knows our … condition and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. (8:27)” Our hope is His faithfulness. He knows us better than we know ourselves and the Holy Spirit living in us will keep us always connected to His Life, even when we don’t see what we are hoping for, even when we don’t know what to pray for, he is there, working “every detail in our lives of love for God … into something good. (8:28)” So what does hope look like? Well, it looks like John 15:26-27; 16:4-15

“The Friend Will Come. (Jn 16:8)” That’s what Jesus promised His disciples during that fateful last evening they spent together. Not buildings and organizations, power and authority. Not great orators, theologians and expositors nor even miracle workers. But a friend. And not just any friend. The Spirit of Truth issuing from the Father. An unimpeachable witness who validates and confirms everything about Jesus.

I find it very eye-opening that Jesus says it is better for them that He leaves. That’s so counterintuitive to our Christian culture where everything is about Jesus. How could it possibly be better without Jesus? I’m sure the disciples thought exactly the same thing, which is why they neglected to ask, “Where are you going? (16:5)” They just got sadder and sadder as Jesus talked about leaving. Notice that the Friend coming isn’t a replacement for Jesus’ presence nor a stop-gap comforter till Jesus comes again. Jesus tells them that His leaving and the Friend coming is better than His staying. It is necessary and better. “[H]e’ll expose the error of the godless world’s view of sin, righteousness, and judgment: He’ll show them that their refusal to believe in me is their basic sin; that righteousness comes from above, where I am with the Father, out of their sight and control. (16:8-10)” So although Jesus and the Father are out of sight, the hope we have is the Friend, the Spirit of Truth, revealing to the world, the governments, authorities and individuals, that their view of sin, righteousness and judgment is wrong. That doesn’t imply anyone will change their mind. Only that we have the certain hope that in their heart, they know what we profess is the Truth. Righteousness comes from Jesus, above.

Our hope is in this communion with the Friend and all that He does for Jesus, as He said, “he will honour me. (16:14)” “He will take [us] by the hand and guide [us] into all the truth there is. (16:13)” He will be our Friend and “will make sense out of” all that Jesus has done and said. Our hope is this relationship. So what does hope look like? Well, it looks like Psalm 104:25-37.

“Take back your Spirit and they die, … Send out your Spirit and they spring to life. (Ps 104:29-30)” As it was on the day of Pentecost, so it is now. If God withholds His Spirit, we are dead, directionless and without hope. This is only one of many Psalms and Scriptures that speak of God’s sustaining hand in creation, and indeed, that it is His creation. “Let God enjoy his creation! (104:31)” cries the Psalmist. Our secular, supposedly scientifically objective society, revolves around the notion that we are living in an automaton, a self-actuated, self-operating, and self-sustaining universe. We’re on our own to conquer the universe and plot the course of our future. On that basis hope is no more than positive wishful thinking that we will be able to meet whatever challenges confront us; although I would suggest that all evidence demonstrates to the contrary.

The Psalmist declares that hope springs from the very source of creation itself. “God! You made it all, with Wisdom at your side, made earth overflow with your wonderful creations. (104:24)” The idea of nature as our mother, expressing its nurturing, life-giving and healing aspects, is not wrong when understood as the hand of God at work sustaining all that He created, “You come, and they gather around; you open your hand and they eat from it. (104:28)” That God is the source and sustainer of creation is not metaphor or quaint platitudes to assuage fears, it is the truth of our daily situation that gives hope to everything we do. So, what does hope look like?

It looks like you and me. Hope has a resilience that goes beyond the possible. It eclipses despair in the face of the impossible. It is not limited to what we can do. It is not founded in human courage and fortitude or the positivism of the cry “Together!” even if it is the church. Like Ezekiel, hope springs from obedience in the face of the impossible.

Hope is patient, certain in its outcome because although we do not see what it will be we are in an intimate relationship with the One who will bring it about. We have this confidence that the Spirit of God knows us, understands us, and our frailty and weakness, and will faithfully step in to help us, praying for us what we do not even know we need.

Hope is never alone. It is never dependent on our strength, our resilience, our resourcefulness, even corporately as a community or church. This work of Jesus Christ, this plan of God is not our responsibility to complete. With or without us God will, as He has always done, as we see clearly in scripture and history, fulfill all His intentions. It is up to us to get on board, obey in the face of the impossible, and patiently endure knowing His Hope in our everyday lives.

Hope can be seen everywhere we look if our eyes and hearts are open to seek God’s hand at work in His world. Returning to Ezekiel hear God’s response to His people’s cry of despair, “Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there’s nothing left of us. … [and God replies] prophesy. Tell them, ‘God, the Master, says: (Ez 37:11-12)” not a condemnation for their hopelessness nor a command to get up and do something. God’s response to our hopelessness is to promise His faithfulness. He doesn’t tell His people, us, what we should do, but what He will do. “I’ll breathe my life into you and you’ll live. Then I’ll lead you straight back to your land and you’ll realize that I am God. I’ve said it and I’ll do it. God’s Decree. (37:14)”

Hope is God the Holy Spirit, living in each one of us, filling us up as he did His first witnesses on the day of Pentecost. May God fill us with his Hope in believing. For Jesus is ascended, and the Comforter has come to bear witness, “expos[ing] the error of the godless world’s view of sin, righteousness, and judgment (Jn 16:8)” Taking us “by the hand and guid[ing us] into all the truth there is … mak[ing] sense … out of all that [Jesus has] done and said. (16:13)” Our hope is founded on the Rock of Jesus Christ and realized in the Spirit working in the world and living in us.

Amen