“Hope is the thing with feathers,” Emily Dickinson wrote. Hope sings like a bird in the soul no matter what. Perhaps you’ve heard it said that Advent is a season of hope. The dictionary defines hope as “the feeling that what is wanted can be had, or that events will turn out for the best.” But what if you don’t feel particularly hopeful—does that mean Advent isn’t doing its job for you? Does that mean you don’t have hope?
St. Thomas Aquinas has a better way to think about hope. It’s a way that is…well…hopeful! In his Summa Theologiae, he says hope is not a feeling, but “a movement or stretching forth of the appetite towards an arduous good.” Whether or not you feel hopeful, you can choose to be hopeful, by choosing to act like a hopeful person. You can choose to stretch forth toward the good thing you desire, even though you know it’s a tough go. In today’s Gospel (Mt 11:2-11), we encounter John the Baptist in prison, through his followers asking of Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come?” John is hopeful that the Messiah has indeed come in the person of Jesus. John is in prison, facing execution, for proclaiming the Messiah and the good things to come. But he continues forth toward the good thing he desires, no matter what. In his reply to John’s followers, Jesus announces the good things for which John has hoped, even in his suffering, “The blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” We don’t know if John felt hopeful all the time or not, but we know he chose to act hopefully; he always walked the difficult path to Jesus and the good things to come.
Faith tells us God is there. Love draws us toward Him. Hope keeps us going to God even in the most difficult times, until we meet Him face to face.