Skip to content

Hope

Hope is not optimism. Optimism is a temperament; hope is a posture taken inside conditions that do not warrant it. The body leans forward; the eye looks ahead; the breath lengthens a little — and the lean is held against evidence, not because of it. Vela reads hope through writers who have lived close enough to despair to know the difference.

Working definition · Forward-leaning expectancy—the felt possibility that something good can still arrive.

4320 passages · 1 Vela essay · in 1 cluster

Vela’s read on this emotion

Hope is one of the most counterfeited of the emotions Vela reads. Optimism counterfeits it. Wishful thinking counterfeits it. The motivational register counterfeits it most loudly. The reading attends to a more specific posture: hope as the leaning-forward the body assumes under conditions in which the future is not guaranteed and the leaning still matters.

The memoir is densest where hope has had to be argued for. Anne Frank's diary keeps hope as a daily decision under conditions designed to refuse it. Vaclav Havel — the Czech dissident and later president, writing under late-Communist censorship — distinguished hope from optimism in a passage now widely cited: hope is an *orientation of the spirit*, an *orientation of the heart*, not a confidence that things will turn out well. The civil-rights tradition — Martin Luther King's *Letter from Birmingham Jail*, James Baldwin's essays, Audre Lorde's prose — preserves hope as discipline rather than feeling. The literature of chronic illness and disability — Christina Crosby's *A Body, Undone*, Paul Kalanithi's *When Breath Becomes Air* — holds hope inside conditions that have refused the easy version.

The contemplative tradition treats hope as a theological virtue, alongside faith and love. Paul, writing to the early church in Rome, named hope as what is *seen* but *not yet*. Julian of Norwich — the fourteenth-century English mystic — wrote *all shall be well* under conditions of plague, not under conditions of safety. Gandhi held hope as a political method — the long, attritional patience of *satyagraha*. Each of these reads hope as work, not as feeling.

Hope is not the same as optimism, expectation, or wishful thinking. Optimism is a temperament; hope is a posture. Expectation requires evidence; hope holds the future open without it. Wishful thinking faces away from the present; hope faces toward it. The four are kin; the reading keeps them distinct because the writers who have been most honest about each have kept them separate.

Study and magazine

Long-form guide in the magazine

An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.

Read the guide

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

Page 100 of 216 · 20 per page

4320 tagged passages

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    (vi) Sōtēria always involves ‘grace’. It is founded on grace. By grace we are saved (Eph. 2.5). It was the conviction of the early Church that it was by the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ that they were saved (Acts 15.11). The sorrow of repentance, the shudder of fear, is met by the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the very word is the final proof that sōtēria is a gift which we have not earned and could not earn but which comes to us from the sheer goodness and generosity of God. (vii) Sōtēria involves ‘the message of the cross’ even if that message seems at first hearing foolishness (I Cor. 1.18), and it involves the fact that we must never forget that message, that it must remain printed for ever on our memories (I Cor. 15.2). It involves the sight of the cross and the constant memory of the cross, the realization of the love of God and a life lived in that realization. (viii) The writer to the Hebrews alone has one further thing to say. He would say that sōtēria involves ‘the continued work of Christ’. It is his vision that Christ ever liveth to make intercession for us (Heb. 7.25). With one of the greatest reaches of thought in the NT he still sees Christ pleading for men, carrying on his high priestly work, and still opening the way to God for men, the vision of a Christ who loved us from the first of time and who will love us to the last, and whose continued love is our eternal hope of sōtēria. In many cases in the NT sōtēria occurs as it were without explanation and without qualification. It is used as a word of whose meaning everyone would understand at least something. Such passages are Luke 19.9; Acts 11.14; 16.30; I Cor. 3.15; II Cor. 2.15). But if we are to get the full value and the full meaning out of this word, we must ask the question: What is a man saved from? What is the deliverance which sōtēria promises? Before we begin to examine the NT for this purpose we must note one thing. The verb sōzein means both to save a man in the eternal sense, and to heal a man in the physical sense. Salvation in the NT is ‘total salvation’. It saves a man, body and soul. (i) Sōtēria is salvation from ‘physical illness’ (Matt. 9.21; Luke 8.36, in both of which cases the verb is sōzein). Jesus was concerned with men’s bodies as well as with men’s souls. It is significant that the Church is rediscovering that today. Such salvation may not cure, but it always enables the sufferer to transmute the suffering into glory.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    1.13; I Thess. 2.14; I Tim. 3.5, 15). The Church belongs to God and comes from God. Had there been no such thing as the love of God there would have been no such thing as a Church; and unless God was a self-communicating God there would be no message and no help in the Church. (iii) Sometimes the Church is described as the Church of Christ, (a) In this connection Christ is the head of the Church (Eph. 5.23, 24). It ought to be according to the mind and thought and will of Christ that the Church lives and moves. (b) The Church is the body of Christ (Col. 1.24). It is through the Church that Jesus Christ acts. It must be hands to work for him, feet to run upon his errands, a voice to speak for him. An Indian described the Church as ‘the Church which carries on the life of Christ’. One last point is to be noted. In NT times the Church had no buildings. Christians met in any house which had a room large enough to accommodate them. These gatherings were called ‘house-churches’ (Rom. 16.5; I Cor. 16.19; Col. 4.15; Philem. 2). Every home ought to be in a real sense a Church. Jesus is Lord of the dinner table as he is Lord of the Communion table. And it will always be true that they pray best together who first pray alone. ELPIS AND ELPIZEIN THE CHRISTIAN HOPE The noun elpis means hope, and the verb elpizein means to hope. These words are not of any particular linguistic interest. Their great interest lies in the fact that if we examine and analyse their use in the NT we can discover the content and the basis of the Christian hope. Elpis, hope, is one of the three great pillars of the Christian faith. It is on hope, along with faith and love, that the whole Christian faith is founded (I Cor. 13.13). Hope is characteristically the Christian virtue and it is something which for the non-Christian is impossible (Eph. 2.12). Only the Christian can be an optimist regarding the world. Only the Christian can hope to cope with life. And only the Christian can regard death with serenity and equanimity. Let us then see in what this Christian hope consists. (i) It is the hope of the resurrection of the dead. That thought runs consistently all through the NT (Acts 23.6; 26.6; I Thess. 4.13; I Peter 1.3; I John 3.3; I Cor. 15.19). The Christian is a man who is on his way, not to death, but to life. For him death is not the abyss of nothingness and annihilation. It is ‘the gate on the skyline’. (ii) It is the hope of the glory of God (Rom.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    (i) Following Jesus involves counting the cost. In Luke 9.59, 61, Jesus seems actually to discourage people from following him until he has made quite sure that they know what they are doing. Jesus does not want anyone to follow him on false pretences, nor will he accept an emotional and easily-moved offer of an unconsidered service. (ii) Following Jesus involves sacrifice. Repeatedly it is pointed out what people left to follow him (Luke 5.11; Matt. 4.20, 22; 19.27). The real point for us there is that following Jesus is what in modern language is called a whole-time job. But there is this difference for us—that following Jesus involves for us serving him within our work, and not by leaving it. In many cases it would be far easier to leave it; but our duty is to witness for him where he has sent us. (iii) Following Jesus involves a cross (Matt. 16.24; cp. Mark 8.34 and Luke 9.23). The real reason for that is that no man can follow Jesus and ever again do what he likes. To follow Jesus may well mean the sacrifice of the pleasures, habits, aims, ambitions which have woven themselves into our lives. Following Jesus always involves this act of surrender—and surrender is never easy. 2. We must see what following Jesus gives. In this direction there are two great promises from the Fourth Gospel. (i) To follow Jesus means to walk not in the darkness, but in the light (John 8.12). When a man walks by himself he walks in the darkness of uncertainty, and he may well end in the darkness of sin. To walk with Jesus is to be sure of the way, and in his company to be safe. (ii) To follow Jesus is to be certain of ultimately arriving at the glory where he himself is (John 12.26). This is the other side of the warning that to follow Jesus means a sacrifice and a cross. The sacrifice and the cross are not pointless. They are the price of the eternal glory. Jesus never promised an easy way, but he did promise a way in the end of which the hardness of the way would be forgotten. 3. We must see that there are inadequate ways of following Jesus. These ways are not to be condemned. They are infinitely better than nothing, but they are not the best. (i) At the end Peter followed Jesus afar off (Matt. 26.58; cp. Mark 14.54 and Luke 22.54). The real reason was that Peter did not dare to follow any nearer; and the real tragedy is that if Peter had kept close to Jesus, the disaster of his denial might never have happened, for it was when Peter saw Jesus’ face again that he discovered what he had done by his repeated denials. (ii) On the last journey to Jerusalem the disciples followed afraid (Mark 10.32). In a way that was the bravest act of all.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    When a man begins to believe in or to seek to propagate Christianity as he would like it to be instead of as God proclaims it is, he cannot do other than preach ‘another gospel’. It is only after we have listened to God that we can speak to men. The danger is that we tell God instead of listening to God telling us. As we study this word euaggelion and as we trace it through the NT we begin to see that it involves and includes certain things. (i) The euaggelion is ‘the good news of truth’ (Gal. 2.5, 14; Col. 1.5). With the coming of Jesus Christ the time of guesses about God is ended and the time of certainty begun. With his coming the time of groping after the meaning and the method of life is closed and the time of certainty is here. Christianity was never meant to present men with a series of problems but with an armoury of certainties. (ii) The euaggelion is ‘the good news of hope’ (Col. 2.23). The man who tries to live life with only the materials which human effort can bring to it cannot do other than despair of himself and despair of the world. John Buchan defined an atheist as ‘a man with no invisible means of support’. When a man realizes what the good news means he is filled with hope for himself and for the world. (iii) The euaggelion is ‘the good news of peace’ (Eph. 6.15). So long as a man tries to live life alone he is inevitably a split personality. As Studdert- Kennedy said, ‘Part of him comes from heaven, and part of him comes from earth.’ The good news tells us that victory comes from surrender, from the death of self and the rising to life of Christ within us. The good news brings to men the possibility of a fully integrated personality where the old unhappy tensions are ended. (iv) The euaggelion is ‘the good news of God’s promise’ (Eph. 3.6). The characteristic of the pagan gods, and even of God as the OT knew him, was that he was a God of threats. Jesus brought the good news which told not of the God of the threat, but the God of the promise. That by no means removes all obligations from life, for a promise brings its obligation just as much as a threat does, but the obligation becomes the obligation to answer to love and not to cower before vengeance. (v) The euaggelion is ‘the good news of immortality’ (II Tim. 1.10). In face of death the pagan sorrowed and feared as one who had no hope (I Thess. 4.13). One of the saddest of papyrus letters is a letter from a mother to a mother and father whose little child has died. ‘Irene to Taonnophris and Philo, good comfort. I was as sorry and wept over the departed one as I wept for Didymus.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    It was not that God was estranged from men; it was that men were estranged from God. Through that which Jesus Christ has done men can become friends with God. (iii) God promises men eternal life, life in time and life in eternity (I Tim. 4.8; Titus 1.2; II Tim. 1.1; James 1.12; I John 2.25). Eternal life is not simply life which goes on for ever. It is true that the NT never forgets that God promised men the resurrection from the dead (Acts 26.6). But the essential of eternal life is not simply duration; it is quality. It is told that once a drooping and depressed soldier came to Julius Caesar with a request to be allowed to commit suicide and so to end his life. Caesar looked at the dispirited figure: ‘Man’, he said, ‘were you ever really alive?’ Eternal life is something which can start here and now. Eternal life is the injection into the realm of time of something of the realm of eternity; it is the coming into human life of something of the life of God himself. It is the promise of God that if a man chooses to live life with Jesus Christ, heaven begins on earth. Into man’s trouble and frustration there come the peace and power of God. (iv) God promises the Kingdom to those who love him (James 2.5). It is too often the case that men think of the call of God as a call to a grim life in which all they wish for has to be given up, and all that is stern and hard has to be accepted. It is true that there is submission and discipline in the Christian life; but the end of the submission and the discipline is a kingdom, a royal power in life. (v) God promises men the coming again of his Son (II Peter 3.4, 9). This simply means that God guarantees that there will be a consummation in history. The Stoics, who in NT times were the highest thinkers, conceived of history as circular. They said that, once every so many thousands of years, there was a conflagration which engulfed and destroyed all things, and that then the same old process began all over again. History was a treadmill, not a march to a goal. When we divest the idea of the Second Coming of all the purely Jewish apparatus, and the purely temporary pictures, we are left with the one significant truth that in history there comes the consummation of the triumph of Christ. (vi) God promises rest for his people (Heb. 4.1). Someone recently was asked what he thought was the greatest mark and characteristic of the modern world. His answer was: ‘Tired eyes.’ Life is in any event a struggle; the Christian life takes all a man has to give.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    1.16), the conviction that the promises of God in Christ are true, the willingness to stake one’s life on the veracity of Jesus Christ. It involves ‘hope’ (Rom. 8.24). The repentance, the fear and trembling are not meant to move a man to despair but to move him to seek in radiant hope the remedy in Jesus Christ. Faith, hope and belief are all closely interlinked. They are all different expressions of the trust on which sōtēria is founded. (iii) Sōtēria involves ‘endurance’. It is he who endures to the end who will find sōtēria (Matt. 10.22; 24.13). The man who is daunted neither by opposition from without nor discouragement from within will in the end find salvation. He must be defeated neither by his own doubts nor by the arguments and seductions of others. His trust is something to which he must cling as to a life-belt in an overwhelming sea. (iv) Sōtēria involves ‘the love of truth’ (II Thess. 2.10). It is something that the man who does not love the truth can never find. If a man shuts his eyes to the truth about himself he cannot be moved to the essential repentance. If he shuts his eyes to the truth about Jesus Christ he can never realize the finality of God’s offer. And it is always true that there are none so blind as those who will not see. (v) Sōtēria sometimes involves ‘fear’ (Jude 23). There is such a thing as a cleansing fear (Ps. 19.9). The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge (Prov. 1.7). There is what someone has called ‘the celestial shudder’, the sudden spasm of fear at what we are, which drives us to find the hope of what in Christ we may be. (vi) Sōtēria always involves ‘grace’. It is founded on grace. By grace we are saved (Eph. 2.5). It was the conviction of the early Church that it was by the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ that they were saved (Acts 15.11). The sorrow of repentance, the shudder of fear, is met by the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the very word is the final proof that sōtēria is a gift which we have not earned and could not earn but which comes to us from the sheer goodness and generosity of God. (vii) Sōtēria involves ‘the message of the cross’ even if that message seems at first hearing foolishness (I Cor. 1.18), and it involves the fact that we must never forget that message, that it must remain printed for ever on our memories (I Cor. 15.2). It involves the sight of the cross and the constant memory of the cross, the realization of the love of God and a life lived in that realization. (viii) The writer to the Hebrews alone has one further thing to say. He would say that sōtēria involves ‘the continued work of Christ’.

  • From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

    1.​Can you identify with Kaycie’s story in any way? 2.​Have you ever experienced any unwanted sexual touch? 3.​Have you told your story to a safe, loving person? 4.​Have you given yourself permission to grieve your loss? 5.​What do you need to heal? Did you know God hates that you were touched in an unsafe and unwanted way? This was never His will for your life. Sadly, people can do some pretty cruel things to one another. Jesus came to this earth to heal the brokenhearted and to set the captive free (Isaiah 61). He is near the hurting and promises to never leave you. He brings comfort to those who grieve. Let Him draw near to you right now. He is not ashamed of you or your story. Honestly, God says in His word that bad things will happen because we live in a fallen, broken world. Too often we blame Him for those bad things, when in reality it is humans who make the hurtful choices. He loves you, is for you, gave up His Son for your healing, and sent the comforter, the Holy Spirit to be with you. He will never ask you to do something and then leave you alone to do it. If you invite Him to join you on this journey, He happily will. However, you may be thinking, I’m the person who touched somebody in a way they didn’t want. Is there hope for me? If this is you, then you need to engage in the healing process as well. You will need to explore what happened in your past that caused or contributed to your behavior. 1.​Was there any sexual abuse in your history? 2.​Did anyone model taking from or being aggressive toward another human being as okay? 3.​Is porn a contributing factor? 4.​Are there any secrets you are holding? 5.​What is considered normal sexual behavior in your family or friendships? OWNING IT Confession will be a significant part of your journey. Taking full responsibility for what you did is valuable and necessary. James 5:16 reads, “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (NLT). Confession is powerful and serves as a washing. Confession also allows you to evaluate if any repair work needs to be done. Repair work requires you to walk through a process of personal healing and growth; you take full responsibility for what you did, and if you need to make amends, you can then make amends. We can’t fix what has already been done, but we can do our part in the healing process. It may include writing a letter to the person you hurt or talking to the person face-to-face if the victim feels safe enough to talk with you. If amends aren’t possible, I would still encourage you to write out a letter, taking full responsibility, and reading it to a mentor, friend, or therapist.

  • From Blue Like Jazz (2003)

    “Well, later that month, it was in December, there was a raging party going on downstairs in the dorm, and I was pretty drunk and high, you know, and I wasn’t feeling too well, so I started up the stairs to see if my friend Naomi was in her room, and she wasn’t, so I went down to my room and sort of crashed on the floor. I just sort of lay there for a little while and then it happened. Now you have to promise to believe me.” “Promise what?” Penny stopped walking and put her hands in her coat pockets. “Okay, but I’m not crazy.” She took a deep breath. “I heard God speak to me.” “Speak to you?” I questioned. “Yes.” “What did He say?” “He said, ‘Penny, I have a better life for you, not only now, but forever.’” When Penny said this she put her hand over her mouth, as if that would stop her from crying. “Really,” I said. “God said that to you.” “Yes.” Penny talked through her hand. “Do you believe me?” “I guess.” “It doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not.” Penny started walking again. “That is what happened, Don. It was crazy. God said it. I got really freaked out about it, you know. I thought maybe it was the drugs, but I knew at the same time it wasn’t the drugs.” Penny put her hand on her forehead and smiled, shaking her head. “I should read you my journal from that night. It was like, oh my God, God talked to me. I am having this trippy God thing right now. God is talking to me. I kept asking Him to say it again, but He wouldn’t. I guess it’s because I heard Him the first time, you know.” “Yeah, probably. So is that when you became a Christian, the night God talked to you?” “No.” “You didn’t become a Christian, even after God talked to you.” “No.” “Why?” “I was drunk and high, Don. You should be sober when you make important decisions.” “That’s a good point,” I agreed. But I still thought she was crazy. “So what happened next?” “Well,” Penny started. “A couple of nights later I got on my knees and said I didn’t want to be like this anymore. I wanted to be good, you know. I wanted God to help me care about other people because that’s all I wanted to do, but I wasn’t any good at it. I had already come to believe that Jesus was who He said He was, that Jesus was God. I don’t know how I came to that conclusion. It wasn’t like doing math; it was something entirely different, but I knew it, I knew inside that He was God. But this time I just prayed and asked God to forgive me. And that is when I became a Christian.

  • From Blue Like Jazz (2003)

    The SEALs stood there, not knowing what to do. They couldn’t possibly carry everybody out. One of the SEALs, the folksinger’s friend, got an idea. He put down his weapon, took off his helmet, and curled up tightly next to the other hostages, getting so close his body was touching some of theirs. He softened the look on his face and put his arms around them. He was trying to show them he was one of them. None of the prison guards would have done this. He stayed there for a little while until some of the hostages started to look at him, finally meeting his eyes. The Navy SEAL whispered that they were Americans and were there to rescue them. Will you follow us? he said. The hero stood to his feet and one of the hostages did the same, then another, until all of them were willing to go. The story ends with all the hostages safe on an American aircraft carrier. I never liked it when the preachers said we had to follow Jesus. Sometimes they would make Him sound angry. But I liked the story the folksinger told. I liked the idea of Jesus becoming man, so that we would be able to trust Him, and I like that He healed people and loved them and cared deeply about how people were feeling. When I understood that the decision to follow Jesus was very much like the decision the hostages had to make to follow their rescuer, I knew then that I needed to decide whether or not I would follow Him. The decision was simple once I asked myself, Is Jesus the Son of God, are we being held captive in a world run by Satan, a world filled with brokenness, and do I believe Jesus can rescue me from this condition? If life had a climax, which it must in order for the element of climax to be mirrored in story, then Christian spirituality was offering a climax. It was offering a decision. The last element of story is resolution. Christian spirituality offered a resolution, the resolution of forgiveness and a home in the afterlife. Again, it all sounded so very witless to me, but by this time I wanted desperately to believe it. It felt as though my soul were designed to live the story Christian spirituality was telling. I felt like my soul wanted to be forgiven. I wanted the resolution God was offering. And there it was: setting, conflict, climax, and resolution. As silly as it seemed, it met the requirements of the heart and it matched the facts of reality. It felt more than true, it felt meaningful. I was starting to believe I was a character in a greater story, which is why the elements of story made sense in the first place.

  • From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

    On the third point: to sin with the intention of persevering in sin, and in the hope of pardon, is presumptuous. Sin is thereby increased, not diminished. But to sin with the intention of refraining from sin, and in the hope that one will sometime be pardoned, is not presumptuous. This diminishes sin, since it seems to show that the will is less confirmed in sin. ARTICLE THREE Whether Presumption is Opposed to Fear rather than to Hope1. It seems that presumption is more opposed to fear than to hope. For inordinate fear is opposed to fear, and presumption seems to pertain to inordinate fear, since it is said in Wisdom 17:11: “ a troubled conscience always presumes harsh things, ” and in the same passage “ fear is the aid to presumption. ” Hence presumption is opposed to fear rather than to hope. 2. Again, those things are contrary which are farthest removed from each other. Now presumption is farther removed from fear than from hope. For presumption implies a movement towards something, as does hope also, whereas fear implies a movement away from something. Hence presumption is contrary to fear rather than to hope. 3. Again, presumption excludes fear entirely. It does not exclude hope entirely, but only the Tightness of hope. Now things are opposed when they mutually exclude each other. Hence it seems that presumption is opposed to fear rather than to hope. On the other hand: two contrary vices are opposed to the same virtue. Timidity and audacity, for example, are opposed to fortitude. Now the sin of presumption is the contrary of the sin of despair, and despair is directly opposed to hope. Hence it appears that presumption is also opposed to hope, more directly than to fear. I answer: as Augustine says (4 Cont. Julian. 3): “ with all virtues, there are not only vices which are clearly opposed to them, as temerity is clearly opposed to prudence. There are also vices which are akin to them, not truly, but with a false kind of similarity, such as astuteness bears to prudence. ” This is what the philosopher means when he says that a virtue seems to have more in common with one contrary vice than with another, as temperance seems to have the greater kinship with insensibility, and fortitude with audacity.

  • From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

    “I get it,” James said. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to be caught in the trap of porn. It’s so conflicting—fun, relieving the stress for a moment, and then the guilt settles in.” The guys nodded their heads in agreement. Trevor felt comforted knowing he wasn’t the only one. “Hey, if you guys want to meet this man I told you about, my mentor, well, he leads some groups to help guys get freed up from porn and other stuff they are doing they don’t want to do. Want me to see if he can do a group with you guys?” “Sounds good to me,” Trevor said. “Yeah, me too,” Kevin agreed. Jason spoke next and said, “I want to come too; it’s not like I have it all together in this department. How about you, Jeff?” “Why not? Yeah—okay,” Jeff agreed. With stomachs full and hearts a little lighter, the guys finished up their drinks and headed home. It felt good to be honest with someone—someone safe, Trevor thought. Maybe there was hope for him yet. WHERE TO GO FROM HERE Shame and sexual addictions are agonizing for the person who is struggling. And like so many others, Trevor is searching for a male role model (someone or something to fill the void he is feeling) so he begins to medicate this void through same-sex porn. Which leaves Trevor feeling disempowered, sexually disoriented, and shamed. All of us are meant to have a healthy attachment to our same-sex parent. We all need a role model—someone who can say “This is how you do life.” This role modeling gives the child guidance. Yet, if this essential developmental element is missing from a child’s upbringing, the child may experience sexual confusion later in life. This is not an always statement but a sometimes statement. However, in some situations, as is the case for our character Trevor, the way the same-sex parent does life is repugnant to the child. Trevor is repulsed by his father’s behavior. He knows he doesn’t want to be the same type of male. He thinks, I am a male, but I don’t want to be like this male. Trevor’s father has not given Trevor any positive feelings about being a male. The result? Trevor feels sexually confused; he is confused about his sense of self, he is confused about his identity, and he is confused about his gender. Trevor’s porn use is his way to medicate his shame and his pain; however, it only ends up bringing more shame. Further, Trevor feels shame as it relates to his mother. His mother is needy and emotionally demanding, and Trevor knows he is unable to meet her needs. He internalizes his pain and feelings of inadequacy; and in turn, he feels even more emasculated—he thinks something is wrong with him and he is broken. He is enmeshed in the dysfunction of his family system.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    But they disregarded the money. ‘Not your money,’ they said. ‘Give us God!’ It was God whom the early preachers claimed to give to men . (vi) They proclaimed a gospel It was the gospel which the preacher preached; it was good news (I Cor. 9.14). Any preaching which ultimately depresses a man is wrong, for preaching may begin by cutting a man to the heart with the sight and the realization of his sins; but it must end by leading him to the love, the forgiveness and the grace of God. The very word which is so often used for preaching shows that in the early preaching there was nothing apologetic, nothing diffident, nothing clouded with doubts and misted with uncertainties. It was preaching with authority; and the things it preached with authority are still the basis of the message of the preacher today. KATARTIZEIN THE WORD OF CHRISTIAN DISCIPLINE The great practical interest of katartizein lies in the fact that it is the word used in Gal. 6.1, for, as the AV puts it, ‘restoring’ a brother who is taken in fault. If, then, we can penetrate into its meaning it will greatly assist us in forming a correct view of the method and purpose of Christian discipline. In classical Greek it has a wide variety of meanings, all of which can be gathered together under one or other of two heads. (i) It means ‘to adjust, to put in order, to restore’. Hence it is used of pacifying a city which is tom by faction; of setting a limb that has been dislocated; of developing certain parts of the body by exercise; of restoring a person to his rightful mind; of reconciling friends who have become estranged. (ii) It is used of ‘equipping or fully furnishing someone or something for some given purpose’. So it is used of fitting out a ship and it is used of an army, fully armed and equipped, and drawn up in battle-array. Its uses in the papyri do not add greatly to our insight into its meaning. There, too, it is used of something ‘prepared for a given purpose or person’. It is, for instance, so used of clothes which have been made and prepared for someone to wear. In the NT it is used about thirteen times, twice in quotations from the OT (Matt. 21.16; Heb. 10.5). It has three main lines of usage. (i) It is the word which is used of the disciples ‘mending their nets’ (Matt. 4.21; Mark 1.19). It may possibly there mean that they were ‘folding up the nets’. But whether it means mending or folding up the idea is that the nets were being prepared for future use. (ii) There is a set of passages in which the basic meaning is that of equipment. In Luke 6.40 it is said that a scholar cannot turn out better equipped than his teacher.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    4.24; Mark 1.34; Luke 4.40). The Pastoral Epistles speak of silly women, led away with divers, poikilos, lusts (II Tim. 3.6); and of the divers lusts and pleasures characteristic of the heathen life (Titus 3.3). The writer to the Hebrews speaks of divers miracles of God (Heb. 2.4); and of divers and strange doctrines (Heb. 13.9). James speaks of divers temptations (James 1.2); and Peter uses the same phrase, but the AV in his case translates it manifold temptations (I Peter 1.6). But there is one occasion on which Peter, with a touch of sheer genius, uses this word poikilos to describe the grace of God. The AV translates it the manifold grace of God (I Peter 4.10). When we remember what poikilos means, this is a tremendous thought. (i) Poikilos means many-coloured; therefore to speak of the grace of God as poikilos means that there is no colour in the human situation which the grace of God cannot match. It matters not whether a man is living in the gold of the sunshine of joy or success, or in the sombre black of sorrow and pain, there is that in the grace of God which can match his situation. No possible situation can arise in life which the grace of God cannot match and answer. The grace of God is a many-coloured thing with that in it which can match and meet every possible situation in life. (ii) Poikilos means artful, clever, resourceful; therefore to speak of the grace of God as poikilos means that no possible problem can arise to which the grace of God cannot supply the solution; no possible task can be laid upon us which the grace of God cannot find a way to do. There is no possible set of circumstances, no possible crisis, emergency or demand through which the grace of God cannot find a way, and which the grace of God cannot triumphantly deal with and overcome. There is nothing in life with which the grace of God cannot cope. This vivid word poikilos leads our thoughts straight to that many-coloured grace of God which is indeed sufficient for all things. PŌROUN AND PŌRŌSIS THE HARDENING OF THE HEART Pōroun is the verb and pōrōsis is the noun which are used in the NT to express the idea of what the AV calls ‘the hardening of the hearts of men’. These words are interesting, not only for their history, but also for a most suggestive shift of meaning which they undergo. At the back of both of them there is the word pōros. Pōros is used in a variety of senses. Basically it means a kind of stone, which Theophrastus in his work on stones describes as a stone like Parian marble in colour and in texture but lighter. Aristotle used the word for a stalactite, one of these solidified drippings of water in a cavern.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    (b) The Christian message is ‘the way of salvation’ (Acts 16.17). It shows a man the path that leads to life and not to death. (c) The Christian message is ‘the power of salvation’ (Rom. 1.16). It brings a man not only a task but also the strength to do it, not only a way but also the power to walk it, not only an offer but also the power to grasp it. (d) The ‘aim’ of the Christian message is salvation (Rom. 10.1; II Cor. 6.1). The aim of the Christian message is not to hold a man over the flames of hell but to lift him up to the life of heaven. We must now look at what we might call the NT elements of sōtēria, the things which bring ‘salvation’. (i) Sōtēria involves ‘repentance’. A godly sorrow produces a repentance that works towards salvation (II Cor. 7.10). Sōtēria is something which has to be worked out with ‘fear and trembling’ (Phil. 2.12). (ii) Sōtēria involves ‘faith’ (Eph. 2.8; II Tim. 3.15; I Pet. 1.9). It involves taking God at his word and casting oneself in utter trust on the offered mercy of God. It involves ‘belief’ (Rom. 1.16), the conviction that the promises of God in Christ are true, the willingness to stake one’s life on the veracity of Jesus Christ. It involves ‘hope’ (Rom. 8.24). The repentance, the fear and trembling are not meant to move a man to despair but to move him to seek in radiant hope the remedy in Jesus Christ. Faith, hope and belief are all closely interlinked. They are all different expressions of the trust on which sōtēria is founded. (iii) Sōtēria involves ‘endurance’. It is he who endures to the end who will find sōtēria (Matt. 10.22; 24.13). The man who is daunted neither by opposition from without nor discouragement from within will in the end find salvation. He must be defeated neither by his own doubts nor by the arguments and seductions of others. His trust is something to which he must cling as to a life-belt in an overwhelming sea. (iv) Sōtēria involves ‘the love of truth’ (II Thess. 2.10). It is something that the man who does not love the truth can never find. If a man shuts his eyes to the truth about himself he cannot be moved to the essential repentance. If he shuts his eyes to the truth about Jesus Christ he can never realize the finality of God’s offer. And it is always true that there are none so blind as those who will not see. (v) Sōtēria sometimes involves ‘fear’ (Jude 23). There is such a thing as a cleansing fear (Ps. 19.9). The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge (Prov. 1.7). There is what someone has called ‘the celestial shudder’, the sudden spasm of fear at what we are, which drives us to find the hope of what in Christ we may be.

  • From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

    Whether hope precedes faith?Objection 1: It would seem that hope precedes faith. Because a gloss on Ps. 36:3, “Trust in the Lord, and do good,” says: “Hope is the entrance to faith and the beginning of salvation.” But salvation is by faith whereby we are justified. Therefore hope precedes faith. Objection 2: Further, that which is included in a definition should precede the thing defined and be more known. But hope is included in the definition of faith (Heb. 11:1): “Faith is the substance of things to be hoped for.” Therefore hope precedes faith. Objection 3: Further, hope precedes a meritorious act, for the Apostle says (1 Cor. 9:10): “He that plougheth should plough in hope . . . to receive fruit.” But the act of faith is meritorious. Therefore hope precedes faith. On the contrary, It is written (Mat. 1:2): “Abraham begot Isaac,” i.e. “Faith begot hope,” according to a gloss. I answer that, Absolutely speaking, faith precedes hope. For the object of hope is a future good, arduous but possible to obtain. In order, therefore, that we may hope, it is necessary for the object of hope to be proposed to us as possible. Now the object of hope is, in one way, eternal happiness, and in another way, the Divine assistance, as explained above [2444](A[2]; A[6], ad 3): and both of these are proposed to us by faith, whereby we come to know that we are able to obtain eternal life, and that for this purpose the Divine assistance is ready for us, according to Heb. 11:6: “He that cometh to God, must believe that He is, and is a rewarder to them that seek Him.” Therefore it is evident that faith precedes hope. Reply to Objection 1: As the same gloss observes further on, “hope” is called “the entrance” to faith, i.e. of the thing believed, because by hope we enter in to see what we believe. Or we may reply that it is called the “entrance to faith,” because thereby man begins to be established and perfected in faith. Reply to Objection 2: The thing to be hoped for is included in the definition of faith, because the proper object of faith, is something not apparent in itself. Hence it was necessary to express it in a circumlocution by something resulting from faith. Reply to Objection 3: Hope does not precede every meritorious act; but it suffices for it to accompany or follow it. Whether charity precedes hope?Objection 1: It would seem that charity precedes hope. For Ambrose says on Lk. 27:6, “If you had faith like to a grain of mustard seed,” etc.: “Charity flows from faith, and hope from charity.” But faith precedes charity. Therefore charity precedes hope. Objection 2: Further, Augustine says (De Civ. Dei xiv, 9) that “good emotions and affections proceed from love and holy charity.” Now to hope, considered as an act of hope, is a good emotion of the soul. Therefore it flows from charity.

  • From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

    I answer: if that which determines the species of a thing is taken away, its species is taken away, and it cannot continue to be of the same species, any more than a natural body whose form has been removed. Now hope, like the other virtues, derives its species from its principal object, as we said in Q. 17, Arts. 5 and 6, and in Pt. I, Q. 54, Art. 2, and its principal object is eternal blessedness as possible through divine help, as we said in Q. 17, Arts. 1 and 2. But a good which is arduous yet possible can be hoped for only when it belongs to the future. There cannot then be hope for blessedness when it is no longer future, but present. Hope, like faith, is therefore done away in heaven, and there can be neither hope nor faith in the blessed. On the first point: although Christ was a comprehensor, and therefore blessed in the enjoyment of God, he was nevertheless a wayfarer in respect of the passibility of nature, while subject to nature. He could therefore hope for the glory of impassibility and immortality. But he would not do so by the virtue of hope, the principal object of which is not the glory of the body, but the enjoyment of God. On the second point: the blessedness of the saints is called eternal life because the enjoyment of God makes them in a manner partakers of the divine eternity, which transcends all time. There is therefore no distinction of past, present, and future in the continuation of blessedness. Hence the blessed do not hope for the continuation of blessedness, but have blessedness itself, to which futurity is not applicable. On the third point: so long as the virtue of hope endures, it is by the same hope that one hopes for blessedness for oneself and for others. But when the hope with which the blessed hoped for blessedness for themselves is done away, they hope for blessedness for others by the love of charity, rather than by the virtue of hope. In a similar way, although one who has charity loves both God and his neighbour with the same charity, one who does not have charity can love his neighbour with a different kind of love. On the fourth point: hope is a theological virtue which has God as its principal object. The principal object of hope is therefore the glory of the soul which consists of the enjoyment of God, not the glory of the body. Moreover, although glory of the body is arduous in relation to human nature, it is not arduous to one who has glory of the soul; not only because glory of the body is comparatively less than glory of the soul, but because one who has glory of the soul already possesses the sufficient cause of glory of the body. ARTICLE THREE

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    (viii) It is a hope which is laid up in heaven (Col. 1.5). That is to say, it looks forward to something which is already prepared for the Christian, and that something is not something which is at the mercy of the chances and the changes of time. It is in the keeping of God, and therefore it is something which will be the completing of God’s design and the fulfilment of all the hopes and dreams of the soul of man. We may now look at what we may call the sources of hope, or the springs of hope. (i) Hope is the product of experience (Rom. 5.4). It may be that the experiences and the testings of life drive the non-Christian to despair. The Christian has a hope which sees all things and which grows ever brighter and not dimmer. (ii) Hope is the product of the Scriptures (Rom. 15.4). If a man will study the record of God’s dealings with men and God’s intention for men it will leave him full of hope. Oliver Cromwell, in planning his son Richard’s education, said, ‘I would have him learn a little history.’ For the Christian the lesson of history is hope. (iii) Hope comes from the sense of being called by God (Eph. 1.18). The Christian has not the despairing sense of a salvation into which he must struggle. Such a struggle would be hopeless. He has the sense of a new relationship with God into which he has been invited, not because he deserved it, but by the sheer mercy of God. (iv) Hope is the product of the gospel (Col. 1.23). The gospel is good news. A message like the message of John the Baptist (Luke 3.7, 17) is a message with a threat that would drive any man to despair. The message of Jesus is an invitation, an offer, a promise, a piece of startling good news which will lift up the heart of any man who is haunted by his sin. (v) Hope is dependent on Jesus and on his work (Col. 1.27; I Tim. 1.1). The Christian hope is not founded on anything that a man has done, or can do, for himself. It is founded on what Christ has done for him. Now let us gather together certain great things which happen by hope. (i) Hope comes through grace (II Thess. 2.16). The very foundation of Christian hope is the free and undeserved offer of forgiveness and fellowship that God offers to men. Hope is born when we discover that we do not earn salvation, but receive it. (ii) It is through hope that we rejoice (Rom. 12.12). A gloomy Christian is a contradiction in terms. The man who knows the power of Christ can never again despair about himself or about the world. He has discovered what Cavour called ‘the sense of the possible’, for he has discovered that all things are possible with God. (iii) We are saved by hope (Rom.

  • From New Testament Words (1964)

    Some people are fitted to give leadership; others are only fitted to accept it. (iv) It is commonly used of obeying the laws. To follow the laws of a city is to accept them as the standard of life and of behaviour. (v) It is commonly used of following the thread or argument of a discourse. When the argument has got into a difficult position Socrates says: ‘Come now, try to follow me, to see if we can get this matter adequately explained’ (Plato, Republic 474c). (vi) In the papyri akolouthein is very commonly used for attaching oneself to someone in order to extract some favour which is desired. One writes in advice to another: ‘stick to Ptollarion all the time.... Stick to him so that you may become his friend.’ The idea is that of following a person until the favour desired is finally extracted from him. Every one of these usages has light to throw on the Christian life. The Christian is in the position of the soldier who follows Jesus Christ, and who must immediately obey his leader’s command. The Christian is in the position of the slave, who must obey as soon as his master speaks. The Christian must ask for the advice and for the ruling of Jesus Christ and must have the humility to follow it, whatever it may be. The Christian is the man who desires citizenship of the Kingdom of Heaven, and, if he is to receive it, he must agree to live according to its laws. The Christian is the learner and the listener who must listen to the words of Jesus, and who must follow their thread, so that day by day he may learn more of the wisdom which Jesus is ever wishing to teach him. The Christian is always in the position of one who needs and desires the favour and the grace and the help which Jesus Christ can give to him, and who follows Christ because in Christ alone he finds his need supplied. We now turn to the use of akolouthein in the NT itself It is very frequent there. (i) It is used of the disciples who left their various trades and occupations and followed Jesus. So it is used of Peter and Andrew (Mark 1.18; cp. Matt. 4.20). It is used of the two disciples of John the Baptist who followed Jesus when John pointed at Jesus as the Lamb of God (John 1.37). It is used of the reaction of the disciples after the miraculous catch of fishes; they forsook all and followed Jesus (Luke 5.11). It is the claim of the disciples towards the end that they have left everything to follow Jesus (Matt. 19.27). It is used of the would-be disciples whom Jesus told to think again before they launched out on the adventure of following him (Matt. 8.19; cp. Luke 9.59, 61).

  • From Blue Like Jazz (2003)

    So much of me believes strongly in letting everybody live their own lives, and when I share my faith, I feel like a network marketing guy trying to build my down line. Some of my friends who aren’t Christians think that Christians are insistent and demanding and intruding, but that isn’t the case. Those folks are the squeaky wheel. Most Christians have enormous respect for the space and freedom of others; it is only that they have found a joy in Jesus they want to share. There is the tension. In a recent radio interview I was sternly asked by the host, who did not consider himself a Christian, to defend Christianity. I told him that I couldn’t do it, and moreover, that I didn’t want to defend the term. He asked me if I was a Christian, and I told him yes. “Then why don’t you want to defend Christianity?” he asked, confused. I told him I no longer knew what the term meant. Of the hundreds of thousands of people listening to his show that day, some of them had terrible experiences with Christianity; they may have been yelled at by a teacher in a Christian school, abused by a minister, or browbeaten by a Christian parent. To them, the term Christianity meant something that no Christian I know would defend. By fortifying the term, I am only making them more and more angry. I won’t do it. Stop ten people on the street and ask them what they think of when they hear the word Christianity, and they will give you ten different answers. How can I defend a term that means ten different things to ten different people? I told the radio show host that I would rather talk about Jesus and how I came to believe that Jesus exists and that he likes me. The host looked back at me with tears in his eyes. When we were done, he asked me if we could go get lunch together. He told me how much he didn’t like Christianity but how he had always wanted to believe Jesus was the Son of God. [image "9780785263708_0128_002" file=Image00044.jpg] For me, the beginning of sharing my faith with people began by throwing out Christianity and embracing Christian spirituality, a nonpolitical mysterious system that can be experienced but not explained. Christianity, unlike Christian spirituality, was not a term that excited me. And I could not in good conscious tell a friend about a faith that didn’t excite me. I couldn’t share something I wasn’t experiencing. And I wasn’t experiencing Christianity. It didn’t do anything for me at all. It felt like math, like a system of rights and wrongs and political beliefs, but it wasn’t mysterious; it wasn’t God reaching out of heaven to do wonderful things in my life. And if I would have shared Christianity with somebody, it would have felt mostly like I was trying to get somebody to agree with me rather than meet God.

  • From Heptaméron (1559)

    In return for all Margaret's pains to hasten his deliver- ance, Francis I. could not do less than procure for her a fit husband. Negotiations were opened on the subject with Henry VIII. of England, but happily they came to nothing. There was at the court of France a young king — one, indeed, who was without a kingdom, but not without eminent advan- tages, both of mind and person. This was Henri d'Albret, Count of Be'arn, legitimate sovereign of Navarre, which was withheld from him by Charles V., contrary to treaty. Henri had been taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, and had made his escape after a captivity of about two months, by letting himself down from the window by means of a rope. Having lived some time at the court of France, he was well known to IMargaret, and there is every reason to believe that the marriage was one of inclination — on her side, at least. It was celebrated, therefore, notwithstanding a considerable dis- parity of age. at Saint Germain en Laye, in January, 1527, Henri d'Albret received as his wife's portion the duchies of Alen^on and Berry, and the counties of Armagnac and Perche, which Francis entailed on his sister's issue, whether male or female. He also pledged himself in the marriage contract to force the emperor immediately to restore Navarre to his brother-in-law. Margaret repeatedly urged him to fulfil this promise, and she speaks of it in many of her letters ; but political exigencies always prevailed against her ; and there was even a clause inserted in a protocol relative to the de- xxviii MEMOIR OF MARGARET, liverance of the children of France, which ran thus : " Item, the same king promises not to assist or favour the King of Navarre to reconquer his kingdom, albeit he has married his most beloved and only sister."

In behavioral science