Commanded by Hope

“He who has a why, can bear almost any how.” I wonder if you can relate to these words in any way, or if you even agree with them? They were written by a man who felt that the society of his day was in peril of decay and disaster. He observed that those around him risked sleepwalking through life, holding onto the echoes of a Christian culture, but without the foundation of an active belief in God to uphold it. He saw young people struggling with a life which lacked purpose, and who then patched up this sandy foundation with popularity and a moral life only as deep as the latest newspaper headline.

In such times it would be easy to feel lost and uncertain of the way ahead. The words above were written over a hundred years ago, but many of us may recognise these fears in our own day – a lack of purpose, a sense of uncertainty in a broken world.

Now I know what it means to feel lost. I distinctly remember undertaking a navigation test where I very quickly lost my way. I had lost count of my steps whilst walking through dense woodland, and where I expected to find a path, I saw only more gorse bushes. I held a map, but at best I could only identify which group of trees I was in. But, thankfully, through the branches I could see a hill in the distance. Finally, some high ground! I surveyed the grassy plain below me, and whilst I couldn’t quite see my destination, I could at least work out where I was. That hill, overlooking a small farm shed, became my fixed point. I was not at the end of my trial, but I could at last look down at my map and know where I was standing.

This is the great hope of the Christian faith. We find ourselves lost in an ever-chaotic world, besieged by competing desires and deceptions, and yet we are still able to say, “here I stand”.

The defining feature of a fixed point is exactly that: it is fixed, reliable, and unmoving. As my navigation instructor had highlighted only hours earlier: “if lost, do not try and navigate in reference to herds of cows, as they do tend to move about, and they give rubbish directions.”

Being lost in the middle of darkest Surrey is one thing, but finding oneself without a sure footing as to how to bring love, hope and healing to our broken world is something entirely more perilous. We may navigate our way forwards according to the loudest view, heeding the crowd, following the herd, but we must always remember that herds move.

When Jesus teaches on the nature of love and purpose, he does so regardless of crowds. They often gathered to him, but their praise was never his fixed point. When Jesus sought to give his followers a sure footing in how best to flourish in this world, he said:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

It is here that we find the foundation of how a Christian is offered the most radical freedom and sense of purpose possible. Jesus’ words are not advice, encouragement, an appeal to our preferences or an attempt at persuasion, they are a command. With these words everything changes.

Love is no longer lost amidst the wandering steps of our passions, drawn north to south by our fears, our desires, and our ambitions. Love and the superlative dignity I am to afford each of my neighbours is fixed, as a rock, on the duty that I owe God and His divine command. By this duty we are called to see each person as Jesus sees them, and to seek their flourishing, not as a matter of our preferences, but because God has commissioned us to do so. This is to love them as He commands, not as we will.  

The walk to this fixed point of Christ’s command is steep, emotionally taxing, physically draining, and not without nuance. However, it is also the greatest adventure that we could ever undertake. In every conversation, every temptation to an angry word, a desire for the praise of one’s peers, the stumble of our enemies – we by his command simply pray, “not my will but yours.” This is the top of the hill, the wonder of the freedom that Jesus offers us, that daily by His power we would love not according to our desires, but in all humility with our eyes fixed upon Christ.

The world will keep moving, ever seeking validation, praise, comfort, and an increasingly fleeting sense of purpose. Jesus’ command reminds us that we do not avoid a similar fate by self-improvement or trusting in our own innate goodness, or even by adding Jesus as an extra layer to our worldview. These things shift with culture like sand on the beach. His command is love, His love is freedom unrivalled; it is our how, our why and the sum of all our hopes.  

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Revd Stuart Hull is a Church of England minister who trained at Wycliffe Hall. He serves as an Army Chaplain.

Views expressed in blogs published by the Latimer Trust are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the official position of the Latimer Trust.