Homily

In today’s epistle we heard St. Paul say, “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner shrine behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedech.”

St. Paul says that hope is an anchor for my soul. What do I hope in? What are my hopes, and do I have a greatest hope that stands above all the rest? I can’t say how many things I really hope for. It changes all the time. I guess most of my hopes are short term and revolve around things that are temporary and not of great importance. "I hope it won't rain today. I hope I'm not getting sick. I hope this fix works." And then I was thinking about other hopes, not for myself, but for you: "I hope you don’t cancer. I hope that works out for you. I hope you will be all right." And while I have never thought this about any of you, is it not strange that when we think, "I hope you get what you deserve," it is almost never a good thing for the other person? When we use the term, "what you deserve," it is usually not winning the lottery or having a grand vacation. Why is it when we appeal to a hope that someone gets what they deserve, we usually mean that they deserve that something bad should happen to them, or maybe something really, really bad?

For myself, would I ever say I hope I get what I deserve? What I may sometimes wish for others who I think have done harm or evil, is never something I hope for myself. I don't think I have ever said, "I hope I get what I deserve," because I don't believe I could survive the consequences.

It has been almost 10 years ago, and I don't want to bring up a memory that is deeply painful for all of us, but back then, when I faced my life-altering surgery, it was, of course, a time to think about what might go wrong. Not only was I going to have to live with the loss of a semi-vital organ, but I had to put my life very literally into the hands of others. I was quite surprised to find myself so much at peace when the moment came, and truly a great sense of hope that no matter what, it would be fine. I had that hope. I do suspect that I was flooded with an unexpected and undeserved grace by Christ our Lord, because it would be unseemly and a perhaps a little scandalous for a priest to be seen weeping uncontrollably in an allegedly Catholic hospital bed.

And yet, somehow after that time, the certainty and strength of my hope seemed to fade away to some degree, along with the faith that came with it, and the confidence in our Savior. I am afraid I let that hope fade. I did not protect it; I didn't nourish it nor care for it. I know this because when I think of what I hope for today, in all honesty, the very first thought it is not the mercy of Christ. If Christ is not clearly my first hope without any doubt, without any judging of values between different kinds of hope in different kinds of things, then surely I am not living as I am called to live, nor am I at that place where I want to be, or where I need to be.

Yesterday we had the 4th All Souls day, and I thought of the epistle reading that we use for funerals. I Thessalonians chapter 4: “We do not want you to be unaware, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope.” Who are those people who have no hope? What does that mean for them, how does that lack of hope affect their lives?

I think this is a big problem for many people today. So many people have only smaller hopes, not a hope that can serve as an anchor for their whole life. Is it surprising then that they are tossed about on the waves, often not know what to believe, how to act, what to think, how to find real value? We are blessed to have a hope we can count on and trust in, even if we do not always live in it as we should. But think of all the people out there who have no such hope. Without that anchor they turn in every direction and consider all kinds of ideas and actions in a desire to find happiness and peace of mind, moving from one thing to the next, but without finding that firm and fixed place where they can be safe and come to rest.

Not finding a hope they can trust their lives to, they are restless. And, as we see, people are willing to break away from centuries of faith, wisdom and moral clarity in their search for peace and fulfillment, for they put their own wisdom before the wisdom of God, and believe they can find happiness and satisfaction on their own terms. But without a firm and sure anchor they move from one thing to the next, altering our culture, destroying family life and even denying the nature of the world we live in as they bend truth to fit into their own conception of reality and try to satisfy what they think are good and worthy desires.

What is your hope? Today’s reading from Hebrews tells us we ought to have a hope that acts as an anchor for our souls…not as a life-jacket, or buoy or a pair of water wings. An anchor. It is a hope that keeps us from drifting this way and that way, keeping us from being lost at sea, carried away by doubts, or by sin, or by the evil in the world. It is hope in the promises of God, hope in Jesus Christ our Lord, which stabilizes our lives so that we can grow in faith and in the love of God and of our neighbor. Faith, hope and love can never be separated in the life of a Christian.

If hope is a sure and firm anchor for our souls, the more solid and substantial our hope becomes the more certain we know where we should stand. But how do we know how strong our hope is? Maybe the answer to that question is to ask myself, “Am I ready to die today?” Perhaps that’s a good way to judge the strength of my hope and see how I am allowing it to anchor my life.

My friends, I think it is very important that we consider the gift of hope we have been given, and that we nourish it, protect it and ask the Lord to increase its strength in our lives. Because it is only if it serves as an anchor for us in Christ while we live, that it will serve to keep us safe when He calls us home.

Let us be encouraged by the words of St. Basil the Great, when we pray the anaphora today as he writes, “For You, O Lord, are a Help to the helpless, a Hope to the hopeless, and a Savior for those in peril from storms at sea…”