Hope Dies Last

In his book of the same name, Studs Terkel quotes Jessie de la Cruz, a retired farmworker reflecting on the days before Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers, “La esperanza muere ultima.” Hope dies last. “You can’t lose hope. If you lose hope you lose everything.”

Then there is the news: Devastating forest fires resulting in lives lost and an entire city burned to the ground; long draughts in some places, endless rain and flooding in others; volcanic eruptions; mass shootings almost every other day; Red Tide; sea levels rising and ocean temperatures rising; massive piles of trash in the ocean; wars and rumors and threats of war; refugees and migrants seeking safety and a better life; bitter divisions among people; a growing gap separating rich from poor; the rise of hate speech; racial discrimination and anti-Semitism… the list could go on. And people ask me nearly every day, “Are these all signs of the End of Times, the End of the World?”

As if a life of interpreting The Bible and other sacred texts is predictive in the way that some scientific hypotheses seek to be predictive. Texts like those of the Hebrew Prophets are misconstrued as predicting the future, whereas the poetry of the prophets, like much poetry, comments and critiques current events warning of the consequences of continued bad behavior tempered with the hope that it is not too late to change our destructive ways. It’s the same with the Biblical genre of apocalyptic literature – the likes of which we find in chapter 13 of Mark’s gospel, the Book of Daniel and in spades in the Book of Revelation.

Apocalyptic is addressed to those experiencing difficult times economically, politically, morally. Apocalyptic literature in the Bible appears when the people find themselves in Exile or under foreign military occupation – when freedoms are abridged by authoritarian dictates; when family, community and ritual life is interrupted; when institutions that are meant to preserve community life are challenged or destroyed. In such times, and times of natural disaster, the stuff depicted in Apocalyptic imagery does not come out of some divine soothsayer’s crystal ball, but are descriptive of the day-to-day life of the community.

In Mark 13, the discussion of the impending, if not already completed, destruction of the Temple, the violence of war, the seductive voices of false prophets and false messiahs, and the persecution of whole classes of people were very real everyday concerns for those in Mark’s community.

Given the number of “End of the World” predictions throughout history to this very day suggests that few people have actually read what Jesus has to say about all of this. First, he issues a warning that there is not only danger from outside the community of faith, but there is also a threat from within by those “who speak in my name.” Jesus cautions not to be taken in by every pious voice of innovation, but rather listen carefully, use reason, and nurture a healthy sense of discernment. Secondly, he urges perseverance in hard times. Instead of becoming alarmist at every turn of event, take the long view and continue to walk in the Way of the Lord. As that book of Chinese Wisdom, the I Ching, often counsels: perseverance furthers! Most of all, in spite of everything we are to remain hopeful. As the Letter to the Hebrews puts it, “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful.” And elsewhere, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The author of this treatise on hope goes on to illustrate with examples, beginning with Abraham, of a people of hope who persevere in their respective journeys. Hope is not passivity. These were people who did not merely sit around and hope. All of those listed in chapter 11 were people who put hope into action, often activist action against the powers that sought to keep them captive, whether literally or to false ideologies.

Then there is the example of Hannah in 1 Samuel: 1-2, the barren and much derided second wife of Elkanah, After years of disappointment and bitter treatment by Elkanah’s other wife, Hannah, still a woman of great hope, took matters into her own hands. While worshiping at Shiloh, then home of the Ark of the Covenant, Hannah bypasses the sacrifices, bypasses the priest and his sons, and pleads her case to YHWH directly. Eli, the now doddering priest, sees her and thinks she is drunk. Just another hysterical woman he thinks. ‘But Hannah answers, “No, my lord, I am a woman deeply troubled; I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation all this time.”’ The Lord hears her plea. She bears a son, names him Samuel, and he becomes the transitional figure between the time of the Judges of Israel to the monarchy of King David. About whom Hannah can be heard singing in chapter 2 as she gives voice to the hope that it is the Lord who “raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor.” David, the forgotten, runt eighth child from the little town of Bethlehem who becomes the real king, who becomes the carrier of the hopes of all the weak, poor and marginal. Hannah demonstrates just what active hope can do. Hope is not passive, but perseveres to the end.

And isn’t it strange, that with such a long history of “End-of-the-world” predictions supposedly based on these texts of apocalyptic hope, that when Jesus is asked when the end time will come, he replies, “But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.” [Mark 13:32-33] Jesus does not know! Jesus does not claim to know. All he knows is what we all know: there’s a lot of stuff going on here and now that is not right.

The thirteenth chapter of Mark ends with just two words: Keep awake. That is, keep hope alive and awake by doing the things that challenge the darkness of this world. By doing the things that helps those in need, for that is in the end what it means to love your neighbor. By speaking truth to power as Jesus himself does in Jerusalem face to face with the imperial power vested in Pilate.

I have long been fascinated with an old Anglo-Saxon poem about a Seafarer. His life is grim. His life is lonely. While others eat and drink and make merry in the mead halls on land, he is alone on the frozen and dangerous sea. He remarks, that “no man is ever wholly free/in his seafaring from worry/at what is the Lord’s will.” Yet, he does not despair. “The Joys of the Lord can kindle/more in me then dead/and fleeting life on land./I do not believe the riches/of this world will last forever….Let us ponder where our true/home is and how to reach it./Let us labor to gain entry/into the eternal,/to find the blessedness/of belonging to the Lord/joyfully on high./Thanks be to God who loved us,/the endless Father, the Prince of Glory/forever. Amen.”*

And what I say to you, says Jesus, I say to all: Keep awake. Make sure that Hope dies last!

* -translated by Mary Jo Salter, The Word Exchange, edited by Greg Delanty and Michael Matto