Fifth Sunday of Lent – 6 April 2025 – Fifth Reflection on Hope in the Year of Jubilee – Becoming Agents of Hope
Through this season of Lent, we have been exploring the theme of Hope, the focus of our current Year of Jubilee. We have reflected on how hope arises from our needs, on how hope opens us to the future, how it is guaranteed by our faith in Christ Jesus and in his Resurrection, and how it is our Christian answer to the encounter of evil because it is a pronouncement that the evil is never the final word, that something bigger is at work.
And now we come to the final reflection in our series: how each of us is called to become an agent of hope. Do I offer hope to others? Do others walk away from me with a renewed sense of hope? How can we be bearers of hope in a world where hope can often be in short supply?
It would be a mistake, however, to answer these questions with the expectation I make others simply feel different. Like Christian joy, Christian Hope is not a feeling. The paradox is that I can feel quite sad, and yet – from a Christian perspective – still have joy. I can really struggle with the enormity of my challenges, and yet still have hope. I may not feel particularly good about the future, but I can still have hope. This is because both joy and hope – which go together – are not feelings. They are affirmations of faith – the faith that I am eternally known and embraced by Love, the faith that my problems do not define who I am because I have an identity and a dignity that is always greater than whatever situation in which I find myself. This is why joy and hope are the signs of the Holy Spirit given to me in my Baptism and Confirmation.
With this baptismal awareness, I live my life always attentive, then, to the wider picture, the bigger picture, the future picture. And this is what I can convey to others. I give hope to others when I am able to open them to the truth of themselves, when I can help them trust in their own goodness irrespective of all that might challenge this for them. And how do I do this? By the simplest ways.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the great fortune of meeting a most remarkable person, Barnaby Howarth.[1] Barnaby thinks of himself as an average bloke. His story, however, is anything but average. A type-1 diabetic and former AFL player with the Sydney Swans, his life changed dramatically at the age of 25 when he was king hit in an alcohol-fuelled attack, leading to a stroke and permanent brain damage. He was forced to rebuild his life and learnt to dig deep and find the power within to overcome his challenges. Then, when his first wife died of cancer, he had to again look within to move forward. But Barnaby has discovered a new purpose in his life, and now hosts quite an extraordinary podcast called, Everyday Greatness. It celebrates the power of simple acts of goodness. Never underestimate the power of everyday goodness. The simplest act of kindness, and of goodness, has an effect beyond what we can imagine. We know this: a stranger comes to help us when our car breaks down on a busy street; a shop attendant engages us with a warm smile when we feel quite stressed; someone gives us a simple gift when we least expected it. We know the effect of that goodness. It centres us; it lifts us; it assures us. Goodness is contagious.
If we could think each day, how can I express one act of kindness and goodness to a stranger I see today . . . It gives hope to another, and it gives hope to myself.
And then hopefully this matures to developing our capacity to be with others in their suffering, which is indeed one of the most powerful ways we can give hope to another.
As Pope Benedict wrote in his own essay on the nature and experience of hope in 2007, “Indeed, to accept the “other” who suffers, means that I take up their suffering in such a way that it becomes mine also . . . The Latin word con-solatio, “consolation”, expresses this beautifully. It suggests being with the other in their solitude, so that it ceases to be solitude.”[2] This solidarity is what most gives rise to hope. When we share our suffering, when we find companionship with another in our suffering, when we realise we are not alone, the outcome is always hope even in the midst of the darkness that may be mine. In fact, the darkness may not even go away. But knowing I am not alone gives me the courage to continue to make decisions for love that begin to transform the darkness into a possibility.
Some decades ago, a book appeared called The Wounded Storyteller. It written by a Canadian sociologist, Arthur Frank. Frank thought to explore how people respond to illness, especially chronic and terminal illness, and he began to map those responses that were effective in the sense that they brought hope and possibility to people, and those that didn’t. He realised that often people respond simply with denial or with unrealistic expectations for recovery and therefore are left trapped where they are. However, he made one very important observation. He recognized that the response that offered the greatest possibility, even in the face, of the most terminal of illnesses, was the sharing of stories. When we share our story with one another, especially if it be a story of pain or of struggle – but not only them, also stories of our successes and joys – then we experience solidarity with each other. That is why we called his study, The Wounded Storyteller. It is solidarity with another that offers us hope. When we are isolated, there is no hope.
But when we come together, and share our story, when we recognise that we are a part of a community, that we belong to a community of persons, our isolation with its despair is transformed into hope and possibility. Something happens when we open ourselves to others, when we experience that we are not alone, but that others are sharing what we are going through. And even though we may never be given the answers to our experiences, solidarity with others opens light in the midst of darkness, and dead ends become new beginnings. This is why our sense of belonging is the foundation for living with hope.
May our own community here at Our Lady of Dolours Chatswood be such a beacon of hope in our world and may each of us carry that hope to all around us.
[1] See https://barnabyhowarth.com.au/meet-barnaby/
[2] Pope Benedict, Spes Salvi: On Christian Hope (30 November 2007), n. 38.
