Christopher O'Donnell, O.Carm.
In the apostolic letter for the new millennium (Tertio millennio adveniente) from 1994, the Pope listed several areas of church life over which we should examine our conscience. It can be said that each of them includes reasons for pessimism: ecumenism, intolerance and violence, religious indifference, secularism and moral decline, social justice, living from liturgy and Holy Scripture, charism and office in the life of the church, dialogue with the world and with other religions. None of them offers great prospects, let alone can exhibit outstanding achievements (cf. TMA, 34–36). Nevertheless, the Holy Father calls us to be a church of hope (par. 46).
We rarely hear about hope: we teach about love, how to receive and demonstrate love; we often emphasize faith. But hope is often a forgotten virtue, a sleeper that needs to be awakened in our Christian consciousness.
Mary, the Icon of Hope
Mary was born into a culture of hope, among the so-called poor of the Lord (anawim), such as Elizabeth and Zechariah or the older prophets Simeon and Anna in the temple. Zechariah's canticle breathes the spirituality of hope (cf. Lk 1:68–79). Simeon was a devout man, "looking for the consolation of Israel" (Lk 2:25). Anna spoke to all the poor in the temple, "to all who were looking for the redemption of Israel" (Lk 2:38). They exemplify the true Israelites who hope in the Lord.
I want to speak of Mary as an icon of hope. An icon is a sacred image through which we come into contact with the holy. Mary is the source of hope. In a prayer from the end of the 11th century, the church prays: "Hail, Queen, mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope!" Let us therefore look at Mary's life and mission to understand what hope consists of; we will turn to her glorified as our mother, sister, friend, and guide to introduce us into a deep experience of hope.
Four Questions About Hope
We need to ask ourselves four questions about hope. In answering them, we will look to Mary. We are now concerned with hope as a theological virtue, infused into us at baptism along with love and faith. The questions can be summarized in four words: Who? What? Why? How?
1. Who has hope? Hope is a virtue that belongs to everyone who has not yet attained what they need. Hope belongs to all people on earth and, in a certain sense, even to those in purgatory. Let us begin by contemplating the Annunciation: our meditation on Mary must start right here and must constantly return here. God promised deliverance to his people. The wait was long, for humanity slowly learned that salvation comes only from the Lord. The chosen nation learned through its failures that it must place its hope only in the Lord. The Lord could approach the people only when they were formed into the so-called anawim. St. Bernard describes how all humanity waits for Mary's "YES": "You heard, Virgin, that you will conceive and bear a Son. You heard that this will not happen through a man, but through the Holy Spirit. The angel is waiting for your answer... We, O Lady, are also waiting for a word of mercy... We will be delivered immediately if you agree... Why do you hesitate? Why are you trembling? Believe, speak, and receive! Let humility gain courage, let timidity trust... Open, blessed Virgin, your heart to faith, your mouth to confession, your womb to the Creator. Behold, he whom all nations desire, knocks outside at the door..." (2nd reading of the Daily Prayer of the Church, December 20). The Church is still in serious need today. Each of us is weak and needs grace and God's love. Mary says YES on behalf of the Church and in our name, and her YES becomes a model of our hope.
2. What do we hope for? The bar cannot be set higher: we hope for that which is entirely beyond our reach and can only be given to us by God. Hope pertains to the good we lack and expect in the future, which is difficult to achieve, difficult but possible. We hope for salvation, for the reception of God's grace; we have hope in the forgiveness of sins. Mary hopes for the salvation of her people, as she says in the Magnificat, "as he promised our fathers" (Lk 1:55).
3. Why should we have hope? The foundation of our hope is God's power and God's love, his mercy and faithfulness. All of this is important. We know that God is almighty. But our hope cannot be based solely on that, but on his will and his desires, which are expressions of his love, mercy, and faithfulness. Thus, we base our hope not only on the fact that God can save us, but that he also wants to do so; not only has he promised it, but he has also proven that he is faithful to his promise. The poor of the Lord in the Old Testament built their hope on concrete experiences. The prayer of the Israelites is often a celebration of great things in the past, which culminates in urgent supplication and ends as thanksgiving for the expected blessing.
The most beautiful example of this hope of Israel is Mary's Magnificat:
“...his mercy from generation to generation
to those who fear him.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever.” (Lk 1:50–55)
Mary's hope was strengthened by the angel who told her that her relative of advanced age was expecting a child, and reminded her of the Old Testament text that "with God nothing will be impossible" (Gen 18:14). Therefore, the main foundation of hope is God's power, God's love, mercy, and faithfulness. The other side of trust in God is the awareness of our weakness. Mary says that God "looked upon the humble estate of his servant" (Lk 1:48). The word "humble" (tapeinos) is very strong in the original; it denotes a state of humiliation, nearly of unworthiness. Mary knows that in herself she is nothing before God; she has nothing that is not a gift from God; she can do nothing except by his power. She rejoices in this weakness. Precisely because she is so insignificant, so weak, so helpless, because she has nothing, she can triumphantly declare: "from this time on all generations will call me blessed" (Lk 1:48).
In the past, we have tended to celebrate the greatness and splendor of the Church. The First Vatican Council in 1870, for example, taught about the church:
“Moreover, the Church is the reason for its own credibility, due to its wonderful expansion, its outstanding holiness, and its inexhaustible fruitfulness in all good deeds, due to its Catholic unity and unbeatable stability…” (Dei Filius, 4, in DS 3013).
It is true that the Church is beautiful and holy, but that is not all: the Church is also weak and sinful; in its children, it is a source of scandals. When we look at the glory of the Church, we should be inspired to admiration and thanksgiving. But the hope of the Church is not its strength but its weakness. And the same applies to our lives: the true foundation of our hope is not our fragile virtue or good deeds: the most reliable foundation of hope is our weakness. The apostle Paul beautifully expresses this:
“...a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”
And then Paul triumphantly declares:
“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Cor 12:7–10)
This dramatic text offers us a completely new way of looking at ourselves and at the Church. Mary has pointed us to the true source of our hope: it is God's power – and her attitude of humility. Even in the story of Gideon in the seventh chapter of the Book of Judges, we see that when we have our own resources, God lets us manage things on our own. Of course, we will fail. Only when we are truly weak, without our own resources, and when we acknowledge our weakness, can we rely completely on the Lord.
We are thus invited to look at the Church with new eyes. Instead of trying to cover up its weakness, we should rather boast about it. Every new sign of its helplessness, every new scandal, every new realization of failure should become the foundation of our hope. Our trust in the future of the Church is based on the fact that the Church is built on the Rock, on Christ's promise that he will always be with it (Mt 28:20). Precisely because the Church is weak, we can rejoice and call upon God's power to overshadow it.
And similarly in our lives: our hope stands on solid ground if we finally acknowledge that in ourselves we are powerless.
Reprinted from the magazine Carmel in the World.
Selected and translated from English by Katka Lachmanová.
