According to Thayer’s Greek Lexicon, the noun for “hope” (elpis) in the New Testament most often
means “expectation of good, hope; and in the Christian sense, joyful and
confident expectation of eternal salvation.” If you read through the list of
verses (here), it
usually refers to hope in God and in the promise of eternal life through faith
in Christ. The verb form (elpizo)
sometimes has the idea of a wish or desire (such as Phil. 2:23), though also
refers to fixing one’s hope on God.
I haven’t heard this elsewhere, but I’ve been thinking about
it like this—true hope is rooted in God and what He has promised from and for
all eternity. Out of that root grow the fruit of godly desires for this life
and for what God is doing in us and through us. The root of eternal hope gives
us meaning and purpose in life.
I think it is helpful to differentiate between the root of
hope and its fruit, because although we may desire certain outcomes, most of
them are not guaranteed for this lifetime. We trust in God and His plan, but
the specifics are out of our control. We know that God will bring many people
to faith in Him, but we don’t know whether that will include a particular
person we love. We know that God has put His people together into local church
bodies to work together to share the Gospel and disciple others, but we don’t
know whether our particular church will be faithful to that call or will even
exist ten years from now. (Three churches I’ve attended in the past are now
closed.) We know that one day all believers will be resurrected to a perfect
existence, but we don’t know whether our family member will be cured from their
illness here and now. We know that God will strengthen His people to endure
suffering, but we don’t know if our particular area of suffering will come to
an end before we die.
That’s why I have often said that my hope is almost entirely
in eternity and not in this life, because the things that I would like to see
happen here are not guaranteed. God is at work and He will fulfill His
purposes, but His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are not my ways
(Is. 55:8). I will wish and pray for the outcomes I desire, but ultimately, I
must say, “Thy will be done.”
I believe this is one of the lessons from the life of Job.
He had certain expectations of his life, but God allowed him to suffer in ways
that didn’t make sense to him. So often we quote only the first half of Job
13:15, “Though He slay me, I will hope in Him; yet I will argue my ways to His
face.” In the end, Job realized that his assumptions were misplaced. God never
did answer Job’s questions, but He did remind Job that He was still in control
of all things. Job’s hope couldn’t be in his prosperity, his family, his
understanding, or even his religious activities, but in God alone.
I have sometimes called myself a cynic, but actually I’m
what this article from TGC calls a hopeful realist.
“This is a perspective that embraces the dual realities of contemporary evil and forthcoming redemption. It lives in the tension of a groaning creation and its imminent restoration.”
I have no illusions that things in this life will go the way
I want them to, but I cling to the hope that God will one day make all things new
and “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither
shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things
have passed away” (Rev. 21:4). In the meantime, we are all meant to be working in
the pursuit of God’s will and living in obedience to His Great Commission and
Great Commandment.
“If in
Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied”
(1 Cor. 15:19).
“May
the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the
power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Rom. 15:13).
