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Hope for the Hopeless

Hope for the Hopeless

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Yacoub Magdy

A very handy message comes for the disheartened when we read about the miracles of the catch of fish in Luke 5:1-11. When our hopes are dashed and we feel that nothing is going right. When every door has been shut in our face. When I need the ultimate revival – this is where our hope lies.

This is a message that calls the consecration of the heart. St Peter knew Jesus, and this event happened after He heals his mother in law. Jesus had been to St Peter’s house and it was likely that He had slept there overnight. This was not the call for consecration, this came later with the miracles that ensues.

St Peter was a fisherman and he toiled with some other fishermen over two large ships. A day in the life of a fisherman began at about midnight. Six to eight people were employed to pull on the ropes. They went to the lake to make a full circle with the nets. This process takes about 30 minutes to throw the net. The net stood vertical so it would reach the floor of the waters. This process takes about two hours. Altogether, it takes about four hours to pull the rope until the big circle that is made with the nets becomes narrow enough to only hold the catch of fish. The fishermen don’t know if they have caught any fish or not until the process is complete.

They then go and sell the fish in the morning, and they can pay the workers their wages from selling the fish. Until now, fishermen attribute success and failure to luck. All over history this mentality remained.

On this particular night, they had spent the whole night at sea but caught nothing. Added on top of this was the payment of the workers’ wages. They spent all night in hope, but came to morning and their hope was shattered.

This would have been distressing to St Peter, especially since Jesus had been at his home for the past few days. Jesus, that did so many miracles before him, even healing his mother-in-law, yet when it came to fish, he caught nothing. Did Jesus bring him bad luck?

Nevertheless, they had to mend the net so that no big fish could eat the little fish that were caught. This was also a time consuming process. While they were doing this was when Jesus passed by. He had a large crowd following Him to hear the Word of God.

People are always to hear the Word of God. Wherever the Word of God is, people will follow. If we want our service to flourish, we must always use the Word of God, because people do not come for your wisdom or understanding, but the Word. The crowd followed to listen to His words. For Jesus to address them from the shore, He had to pull out a little way so He could see them all.

Jesus must have had a strong voice, for He would preach before thousands and they would hear Him. He asked St Peter to move the ship out to the water a little way so He can see them all on the shore. He started teaching, the exact time He was teaching, we do not know but we can presume it was a long time.

St Peter may have been still mending his net but was still listening. The process of elevating us from our sadness begins with hearing the Word of God. We do not know what Jesus said, but surely it was a message of hope. As St Peter listened, we can presume that his heart was moved.

When Jesus finished speaking he told Peter to throw his net into the sea once more. It was well known that as the sun starts rising, it is very difficult to catch fish. The fish can see in the light and escape. They catch fish in the dark because they cannot see in front of them and are easily caught.

They rely on darkness to deceive the fish, so it was not the time to go catching fish. St Peter was still obedient, and trusted Jesus, who was a Carpenter, despite spending his life fishing. He was polite saying, “Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing; nevertheless at Your word I will let down the net” (Luke 5:5).

This is the pre-consecration of the heart – When I am down, when I have no hope, when I have no where left to turn, when I laboured in vain – but at the Word of the Lord, I will try again.

The joy that comes to the heart cannot be fathomed. The word used in the Greek language translates to, ‘ecstasy.’ The combination of tremendous joy and not knowing where it came from. It was no longer about the fish but the possibility that the Lord could perform such miracles.

Where did the fish come from? How did this happen? It was at this point that St Peter surrendered completely to the Lord – “When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!”” (Luke 5:8). Having no hope and no help but then the Word of the Lord changes the hopeless to hopeful and fills them with ecstatic joy.

The Lord is true, and He in my life. I follow the Lord, it is not about what He can give me, but who He is. The evidence of this is in St Peter’s broken heartedness when he fell at the knees of the Lord. If you want to know if you are on the verge of the consecration of the heart, you must first fall at the feet of Jesus saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man!” I am not worthy of the grace He bestows upon me.

Jesus appeases his fears saying, “Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men.” St Peter was called to bring men to the Kingdom of God. If I come to stages of hopelessness where I feel I have nowhere to turn, I begin to listen to the Word of God and this begins to revive my hope. Until I see the Hand of God clearly and it could be nothing other than divine intervention that uplifts me, it is at this point that I fall to my knees before the Lord.

We become for the Lord and nothing in this life satisfies us, just like the ships that were left flooded with fish for hope in the Lord.

Full sermon

Hope that Overcomes Despair

Hope that Overcomes Despair

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Yacoub Magdy

Luke 5:27-39

The message of this gospel is hope. For any despair, any despondency, this is the answer.

Hope because of the restraint of Saint Matthew. Saint Matthew was restored to his original rank that was a Levite. We need to understand what a publican is and what a Levite is.

A Levite belongs to a group of people that the Lord chose to be consecrated in the temple. They lived in the temple, they don’t work and the temple covers all their needs. An entire extended family would be sustained in this way. Levites had an extremely high rank, like priests and deacons of the church.

Unfortunately, it is not made known how he became tempted to pursue riches. He applied for the role of publican of the Roman empire. A publican collects one tenth of the money the people earn and gives it to the Roman enemy. This one tenth should be given to the temple so that he, and the other Levites could live. He didn’t choose this path, but chose to work for the Romans.

Publicans get help from the Romans and are given police officers so that they may collect money from the people. Each district had to give the Romans a certain amount of money each year. Each publican was able to take as much money as they saw fit from the people, and they had police officers to protect them. You can imagine the hate the people had for the publicans, especially one that was originally a Levite.

It can be considered a priest in Egypt that loved money and devoted his efforts to collecting money from the Christians to the ruling authority (which in Egypt, would be Islam).

However, this man had something different in his heart. He did not feel it was his place to be a publican. At some point, he realised that he was not born to be a publican. There was still hope that he could return to the temple, that he could repent and be restored once more.

This day is a feast of hope, because we all have a similar outlook. Sometimes it isn’t money, but other worldly pursuits that interfere with our search for Christ.

Do I have hope? Can the Lord restore me?

The Lord was passing by Levi and all his riches surrounding him. No one can befriend a publican, he is not allowed to eat with people because he is considered defiled among the Jews. Only his colleagues that are publicans like him. He was boycotted from the temple. Great despair would have arisen within him.

The Lord said two words to Matthew, “Follow Me,” and he left all his money and in great joy, he knew he was restored.

This is our hope – that one word from the Lord can unite us back to our Beloved.

Following his restoration, Levi held a party and invited many people. The catering and cost would be extremely great. He could not invite the Jews, but he had to invite the sinners, publicans like him. How dare he make a feast of the Lord? The Lord entered into a house that was considered defiled. Maybe he heard of Zacchaeus, and how the Lord dined with him. The difference was that the Lord invited himself to Zacchaeus’ home. He may have heard this, and this gave him courage to invite the Lord.

Christ went to his house that day and dined with sinners and publicans. This angered the Jews and they saw this as betrayal. Jesus responded to them saying, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance” (Like 5:32). He came to restore the sick to repentance. He is One of them. Today is the feast of hope. The church, in her wisdom, prepares for today before another great feast – the Transfiguration. How can I see the glory of God when I pursue the world? Jesus came to restore us to our original rank as His children. The desires of the Lord entrap us in sin and this is the day I say to the Lord, “tell me as you told Matthew. When you tell me to follow You, I will follow You all the days of my life.”

Those who Mourn

The Beatitudes Series: Part 2

Blessed are the those who mourn for they shall be comforted

by Bethany Kaldas

Pain is nature’s way of telling us something is wrong. That’s generally how we see it.

Truer these days than ever before, suffering and discomfort are seen as some of the greatest enemies to humanity. In popular media we are constantly encouraged to be strong, be brave—they tell us we can beat the pain and injustice if we just try hard enough. If you do your best, you’ll win in the end.

To many people, in many instances, this is a comforting thought. Believing in yourself and having confidence in your own abilities can be the key to success in plenty of occasions. It’s why we tell our students to study hard and tell each other to persist in working for our dreams.

But the discomfort of, for example, not being promoted before your colleagues is one thing. The pain of losing a loved one is something else. The heartache of a broken family, the physical suffering of illness, the loneliness of rejection, the mental torture of anxiety or depression—these are not small wounds. These are deep fractures of heart, mind and body, and no amount of self-actualisation or personal determination is enough to heal them.

That’s a cheery message, right?

I’m not even being sarcastic (never try to be sarcastic in writing, it rarely comes through the way you intended). The inevitability of pain and suffering that we are inherently unable to conquer by our own will and power is something that our society fights tooth and nail. The majority of heroic tales displayed in media are dedicated to inspiring us against such pain.

But does God tell us the same thing?

In the Bible, there are plenty of instances of suffering—plenty. For now, let’s just take a look at one: the ‘thorn’ in Paul’s flesh. I’m not entirely sure what exactly this ‘thorn’ was, but whatever it was, it could not have been pleasant (he describes it as being something sent to him by Satan!). How does Paul react to this suffering? Well, he does what every Christian usually does when faced with something we don’t like: he asks God to take it away. Not once—three times. And how did God—the all-powerful, all-loving God—respond?

‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ (2 Corinthians 12:9)

God doesn’t rescue Paul from his anguish. He doesn’t give Paul the power to save himself and tear this ‘thorn’ from his hurting flesh. He doesn’t even tell Paul that he can do it, that it’ll just be a bit longer, that if he just keeps trying, he can win over the pain. He tells him something we never like to admit when we’re suffering, and something we certainly don’t like to be told. He told Paul that he was weak. Paul—Saint Paul, the one whom the people stoned so badly they thought he was dead, but got back up again to keep preaching—the same Paul we all admire even to this day—was called weak.

And I hate to say it, but I honestly believe that God would tell each of us the same thing. We hate to admit it—to anyone, including ourselves. It is often when we tread the deepest regions of the valley of death that we refuse to tell anyone where we are.

‘Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.’
C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

It’s time we faced the facts. You’re not strong enough. You can’t do this. I know I’m killing the mantras of every Disney movie ever produced, but the consequences of not doing so, of not simply admitting that you aren’t capable of brute-forcing your way through your problems, that you can’t simply will your hardship away, are more dangerous than you might think. No, it’s time we realised that we were never strong enough to fight the pain away.

But it can’t stop there. Never stop there. Stagnating at an admission of weakness will only mire you in despair. But the truth is deeper than that. Because you’re not strong enough, it’s true. And you can’t do this, no doubt. But He can. And you were never alone, not for a single beat of your broken heart.

The perfect image of this is seen in the Crucifixion, and Kallistos Ware describes the relationship between our pain and that of Christ beautifully:

‘Christ’s suffering and death have, then, an objective value: he has done for us something we should be altogether incapable of doing without him. At the same time, we should not say that Christ has suffered “instead of us”, but rather that he has suffered on our behalf. The Son of God suffered “unto death”, not that we might exempt from suffering, but that our suffering might be like his. Christ has offered us, not a way round suffering, but a way through it; not substitution, but saving companionship.’
The Orthodox Way, Kallistos Ware

He is strong enough. He can do this. And sometimes it is only when we are broken, when we are forced to our knees, that we finally realise that we were never meant to do this alone. That is finally when we realise that our weakness is our greatest weapon. When we are weak, when we finally let down our guard and call out for aid from the only One who can, that is when He can work in us.

Don’t misunderstand me, though. I am not telling you that the solution to all your problems is ‘fast and pray.’ I don’t know how to solve your problem. I don’t even know that your problem can be solved, not in the way we might like. But these periods of suffering, however long they may be, should never be occasions for despair. Our weakness is not our downfall, it is not a tragedy forced upon us. It is an opportunity. The pain of His children is when they can be most like Him, when we most resemble the suffering God, bleeding out on a lonely cross. And that cross was not defeat—it was the greatest victory of all time.

It is in these moments, when we are hurting, when we are lonely, when we are broken, that we can truly say with Saint Paul:

‘Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am stron.’ (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

Walking by Faith

Walking by Faith: A Contemplation on the Man Born Blind

Transcribed sermon by Marc Bastawrous

Passage: John 9:1-38

When we read the story of the man born blind, we notice that Christ does something unusual compared to His other miracles. He puts the healing in the hands of the healed. He doesn’t immediately restore his sight, but asks the man born blind to go and wash in the pool of Siloam.

What is noteworthy in Christ’s words is that at no point did He say, “wash and you will be healed.” There were no guarantees made. In this moment, Christ had picked up some mud, threw it in the man’s face and told him to walk through the town, past all the townspeople, to wash his face for no suspected purpose except to get the mud off his face. The pool was outside the walls of the old city of Jerusalem, approximately 2 km away from where the temple was thought to be. It would take the average person 15 minutes to walk this distance, not to mention he had to navigate through the city without being able to see where he was going.

How would you feel if you were the blind man in this situation? You had sat at the temple for most of your life, you were ignored by the people, you were judged sinner by those that didn’t know you. But then, you hear a Man. You hear a Man say to His disciples, “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (John 9:5). What does this mean? Who is this Man, and could He be the One that you have waited your entire life to hear? This quite possibly could’ve sparked a small glimmer of hope that he would be just like everyone else, that there was hope that he would be able to see.

Alternatively, he could have been at a point where he had lost hope entirely. He had lived his entire life sitting outside the temple, being ignore and judge by the most religious people. At the words of Christ, he could’ve thought to himself, “please don’t. Don’t give me false. Just leave some money and be on your way.”

Still, Jesus draws near to him. To which the blind man may still be wondering if He would mock him. Jesus comes to him and spits on the ground before him. At this point, his heart would have sunk – another mocker. He could’ve been at his lowest and thought, “Ideserve this. I deserve to be shamed. But just leave me alone.”

Jesus takes one step closer and picks up the mud and anoints his eyes. Imagine the heartache he would’ve felt. He would’ve felt like Christ was making fun of him. In case people didn’t realise he didn’t have eyes, he now had mud where his eyes should be.

After all this, our Lord makes a request. “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (John 9:7). I can only imagine what I would have done in this man’s shoes. A beggar that had endured abuse, humiliation and was then told to walk a considerate distance with mud on his face so he could wash with no indication as to what would happen after he washed. It makes sense in hindsight that he would wash and receive his sight, but in the moment, he had no idea.

Something compelled him to walk through the crowds and get out of the city. All logic would have told him to stay where he was and avoid further humiliation. This man thought, “even if I can’t see, I will walk.” He probably tripped a few times along the way but he continued, for he had a goal. You can imagine as he bumped into the crowds, there would have been people that yelled abuse and told him to watch where he was going, yet he continued. He blocked out the noise of the world and remained on the path the Lord had paved. He could’ve stayed at the temple where he was comfortable. But where there is no risk, there is little reward, and had the man born blind man not chosen to take the risk, his story would not have been remembered for generations to come. Despite how the people saw him, there was something in him that knew he wasn’t the product of his parents’ sin; he was fearfully and wonderfully made and the glory of God was about to be revealed in him.

When he finally arrived to Siloam, he would have been tired, bruised even. Logic would tell him that washing his face would only get the mud off. Yet he washed and hoped. In our own lives, there are oftentimes that we cannot see, but we strive to imitate the man born blind, to wash and hope. When we cannot see, logic tells us to grumble, complain and become frustrated. We lose sight of the fact that God is in complete control.

In despair, we say to our Creator;

“Why are you letting me suffer? Why are you putting me through all this pain and anguish and hurt? Why couldn’t you just leave me where I was comfortable?”

I don’t always need to see the road ahead because the One I walk is the Creator of all. The story of Job explains this same concept in the most profound way. Job went through tribulation, unlike anyone has ever seen. He lost his children, his livestock, his wealth and his servants and was left with nothing. Through his suffering, he never cursed God. After 38 chapters of agony, he finally questions God and why He would allow him to suffer and why He would allow his closest friends to think that God was punishing him. God finally responds, but He doesn’t answer Job’s questions but instead asks some of His own.

“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?”(Job 38:4)

Had Job not been through enough? Is God not meant to heal him at this point, alleviate all his pains? But it was through God’s rebuke that Job was able to say, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You” (Job 42:5).

Job had heard of God’s comfort before, but it was through his deepest despair that he felt God and he could see that He was sufficient for all his needs. This is what sustains us during times of suffering and it is through our suffering that we are given revelation of God, for it is enough to see Him.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor. 5:7). To truly exemplify this verse, we cannot look past the man born blind as he stumbled to the pool, being led by faith alone. We can only pray that on our own spiritual journeys, we can continue to walk, even when we cannot see. No matter the tribulation, we keep walking along the path, knowing that God is our eyes. If we hold on to our faith, no tribulation can take it away. This is our strength in all difficulties alike.

Faith is the one thing we can hold on to in this life. No matter what happens in my life, no matter what is taken away from me, if I walk by faith, nothing can harm me. All of it can be used as a catalyst to strengthen my faith. When I stop doubting and remember that my resting place is in the palms of the hands of the Maker of Heaven and Earth, nothing in this world can move me. Even though we cannot see, we are called to walk by faith and look for the glory of God at each new day.

Searching for Hope

Searching for Hope

by Fr Anthony Messeh

Reposted from http://www.franthony.com/blog/searching-for-hope

Fr Anthony Messeh is an American Coptic Orthodox Christian living in Arlington, VA. The aim of his blog is to spread the message of a real, relevant and rewarding God.

HOPE. What is it? Where do I find it? How do I get it? And if I do get it, how do I keep it? Why does THAT guy seem to have so much of it and I have so little of it? Is there really such a thing as hope in my situation?

Of course we all know the “right” answers to these questions. It’s easy to rattle off some Bible verses and spew out a few stories and then declare “so just hope in God.” But do we really believe that? Do you really believe that?

The honest answer for me? Yes and no. At times, yes. And at other times, no. There are those times when life seems to be going well – not perfect, but at least moving in the right direction. Economy is up, career is progressing, and relationships are stable. Life is good. At times like that, it’s easy to talk about hope and tell others about hope as well. Hope is ours.

But those “good” times seem to occur much less frequently than the “bad” times don’t they? The economy seems to be down more than it’s up. My career has more bumps than I expected. And my relationships (or lack thereof) seem to be a constant source of stress and anxiety in my life. Where’s hope then?

Please don’t give me (or yourself) the “right” answer that we learned back in Sunday school. Don’t just tell me that we have to trust and believe and everything will be ok. Do you even believe that? I will be honest and say that I struggle with that at times.

Where is hope when you are standing at a grave with a mother who just buried her son?

Where is hope when you see a family with no money in their account, bills are piled up to the ceiling and then you hear that the dad just got laid off?

Where is hope when you’re lonely and God knows you’re lonely but doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it?

In the past, I’ve written about some of more abstracts element of hope, so today I want to focus on the practical components. I don’t want to DEFINE hope; I want to DESCRIBE it. Hope is too big to be defined, but it can be described – in both words and pictures.

1. Hope is a choice

The level of hope you experience in life is totally and completely up to you. No one and no circumstances can affect that. Let me draw you a picture.

Imagine a parallel set of train tracks that extends as far as the eye can see. Those tracks represent the experiences that we all go through in life – one is the painful experiences and the other is the joyful experiences. Every day we experience some pain and some joy as we walk down the road of life.

Now imagine looking out toward the horizon – look out as far as your eye can see. What will happen? What will you see? Can you still see two separate tracks? NOPE. You’ll only be able to see one. The two tracks appear to become one track only.

That is hope. Hope is not looking down, but looking ahead. If you look down at either one of those two tracks, you’ll be in trouble. Focusing on the joyful track only will lead to denying reality. Focusing on the painful track only will lead to depression. We don’t need to look down; we need to look ahead. That is hope.

Hope says that no matter what happens today, God is working all things together for good to those who love Him. Hope says that even though today you may see “good” and “bad”, there will come a day where you will see that BOTH of those tracks were needed to get you to where God wants you to be.

That is hope – not that everything is ok, but that God is working all things in order to make it ok one day. That is why I say that hope is a choice. No one can force you to look up and by the same token, no one can stop you from doing so either.

2. Hope is a person

There’s a beautiful prayer we say in the Orthodox church and we use it just before we read from the gospel. The prayer says: “for You are the life of us all, the salvation of us all, the HOPE OF US ALL, the healing of us all and the resurrection of us all.”

God is our hope. We don’t hope in the miracles of God or the grace of God or the mercies of God. WE HOPE IN GOD HIMSELF.

Said another way, hope is not based on the presence of your circumstances; hope is based on the presence of your God. Don’t tell me how bad your situation is; tell me whether or not God is in it with you or not. If He is, there’s hope. If He’s not, there’s no hope. Simple.

Let me draw you another picture. Imagine sitting in a pit – with the mud and mire all around – and then seeing a hand reaching down from above. That hand of is the Hand of God reaching down to rescue you and lift you up.

Now what’s hope? Hope is how tightly you grasp that hand. Some choose to hold lightly and therefore have little hope. Some cling with all their might and therefore have a lot more hope. The force and desperation and urgency with which you cling to that Hand – that’s hope. And again, no one can affect that except you.

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” Psalm 42:5

They say that hope is the oxygen of the soul. I couldn’t agree more. Even though we don’t necessarily know what it is, we all know we need it. And now we know that it’s in our control to go get it.

Hurt is inevitable, but despair is optional. We cannot avoid hurt, but we can avoid hope.

See more from Fr Anthony Messeh at http://www.franthony.com