Radical Hope in a Hope-less World

This is the edited transcript of a talk I gave at Austinmer Anglican Church on Sunday January 29th, on the topic of ‘Future Hope’.

‘Radical Hope’ was the theme of last year’s Byron Bay Writer’s Festival.

And so, my teenage daughter Luci and I flew up to hear what Australia’s foremost secular progressive writers, journalists and thought leaders thought about the world, especially regarding the topic of hope – radical hope, no less. 

There we are in beautiful Byron Bay. The sun is shining. We’re gathered with thousands of others in the various tents, listening to authors like Nicky Gemmel from The Weekend Australian, young Climate Activists, and ABC journalists. 

We’re hearing about the need to take Climate Action and listen to those with different political points of view. And about the need to be true to yourself. 

Luci and I found the whole experience thought-provoking. Stimulating. Eye Opening. But hearing from these secular thought leaders also made me realise something. Something very important. 

We all need hope: hope that your future will be okay. 

Parents need hope that their kids will turn out okay. We need hope that we’ll have made enough money to pay our bills. And in a world of rising interest rates, we need hope that we’ll be able to pay that increasing mortgage. We need hope that Climate Change won’t destroy our planet. Or that COVID will once again drive us into lockdown.

We all want hope. We all need hope that things are going to be okay. 

We are hope-driven creatures. 

Because if you take away hope from people, then what happens? 

We risk falling into anxiety and despair. We risk being paralysed by fear. Or into unhelpful and harmful coping mechanisms, such as alcohol or food addiction.  And at worst, people can give up altogether. And commit suicide. 

Everybody needs hope. Hope for the future. Hope that everything will turn out okay. 

Which is what the Byron Bay Writer’s Festival promised. But did it deliver on radical hope? 

1) The Problem with Secular Hope

I didn’t walk away from the festival with anything resembling radical hope.

I remember one session with some young Climate activists that summed up the secular hope on offer. After hearing the Climate activists about the challenges to mitigating Climate Change, a middle-aged gentleman stands up in question time. He says in an exasperated voice: ‘could you give us some radical hope!’. 

The answer was telling: 

The Climate Activists gave a ‘we can do this if we all try’ type of hope. 

If our community and political leaders get on board, we can do this! Does that sound like a secure hope to you? Putting your hope in politicians? Putting your hope in other people who don’t currently share your concerns? 

That doesn’t sound like radical hope. It’s not a hope you’d want to bet your life on.                                    

But the most glaring omission from a Festival on Radical Hope was a complete absence of any talk about death. And hope in the face of death. Which is rather strange when you think about it, considering how inevitable death is. But it shouldn’t surprise us because our secular world has no real hope to offer in the face of death. No real hope, at all. 

I felt this hopelessness in the face of death when I turned 40. 

As I was coming to the end of my 39th year, I remember thinking: oh, I’ll be 40 in a few months. At the time, I just shrugged my shoulders. But soon after my 40th birthday, I started experiencing some strange things.  I would be sitting in my car, having just returned from coaching my son’s soccer team. Or finishing a bike ride with friends. 

And without any warning, I felt it:

This blanket of emotions descended on me. Depressive emotions. Suffocating emotions. Haunting me. Whispering to my soul. Making me feel things I had rarely felt before. 

I felt the weight of my mortality: that one day, no matter what, I was going to die. 

Yes, I had always known that my bodily existence had a use-by date. But I had never felt the weight of my upcoming date with the grim reaper.

Until then. 

At the time, a stark realisation dawned on me: the last 40 years had just flown by—where had they gone? And if the first 40 years had gone this quickly, wouldn’t the next 40 go even more rapidly (isn’t that the way?). 

In 40 years, I would be nearing death’s door (unless I got there sooner!). And there was nothing I—or anybody else—could do about it.

At the time, It was like I had entered into a universe that our secular world assumes to be true: A world, in the words of John Lennon’s Imagine:

A world with no heaven or hell, no afterlife. No God. Above us, only sky. 

And waiting for me at the end of my life was this brick wall called death. A wall that spelled the end. The end of my life. And the end of everyone else’s life as well. Let’s just say it was a very depressing couple of months!

And so, how does our modern secular culture respond to this depressing thought of death? As a culture, there are three primary responses to death that I can see: 

First, Distraction: we distract ourselves, so we don’t think about death. 

Whether it be through Netflix, entertainment, or keeping ourselves busy with work and family. We put our old people in Nursing Homes and forget about them. We don’t talk about death with friends. And Triple J’s hottest 100 doesn’t include many songs about death. 

But Second, there’s Delay. 

We want to delay our date with death for as long as possible. 

We want to live long, healthy lives. And this is seen in the amount of money we spend on wellness: things like vitamins, Gyms, Diets, courses and so on—anything to distance ourselves from death. 

In 2022, Human beings on our planet spent – wait for it – over 6 trillion dollars on wellness products. Australians were the 10th highest spenders. Not all of it, but much of it is spent trying to delay our inevitable date with the Grim Reaper. 

As a culture, we distract. And we delay.  

But a third option is to explain death away as simply a part of life. 

A classic example is Disney’s movie The Lion King, where a young lion is told that although lions eat the antelope, they (the lions) eventually die and fertilise the grass, and the antelopes eat the grass, ‘and so we are all connected in the great Circle of Life’. Death is a part of life and nothing to be feared. 

Now, this third option might sound appealing.

As if it makes sense of death, making it out to be a natural stage of our life. But this view doesn’t stand the reality test. For starters, does anyone at a funeral want to believe that their dead child, sister, or father is nothing more than fertiliser? 

Are people content to see their dead loved one buried and gone? 

Or do people at funerals realise something important:  That death is not a part of life. Instead, death is a horrible intrusion. An intrusion that rips them from their loved one as they see the coffin going into the ground. 

Secular Psychologist Carl Jung points out:

‘Death is indeed a fearful piece of brutality: there is no sense pretending otherwise. It is brutal not only as a physical event, but far more so psychically: a human being is torn away from us, and what remains is the icy stillness of death. There no longer exists any hope of a relationship, for all the bridges have been smashed at one blow’. 

Or in the words of singer Billie Eillish, in her song ‘Everybody Dies’:

 You oughta know

 That even when it’s time

 You might not wanna go

 But it’s okay to cry

Now that’s a much more accurate understanding of death than the trite Disney view of the Circle of Life. 

The final problem with this secular ‘Circle of Life’ view of death is that it assumes nothing after death. 

But how could any secular person know that? Secular science doesn’t prove what happens after death. And so we can’t assume that death is all there is, and we become fertiliser.  As Tim Keller points out:

‘If you were driving a car 100 km/hr but unable to see out the windows, it would be frightening. And if you are driving toward death without the ability to see what is coming, it will also make you afraid’.

Our modern secular view of reality doesn’t give us any hope – let alone radical hope – when it comes to death. No wonder it wasn’t a hot topic of conversation at the Byron Writer’s Festival. 

So, is there any hope for us as we head toward our death? Can we find radical hope for our future? A hope that holds firm, even in the face of death?  

According to the Bible, there is real hope in the face of death. Not the wishful thinking, leap of faith, pie-in-the-sky kind of hope. But a hope that’s secure. A hope that can stand firm in the face of death. 

And it’s all through Jesus, and what Jesus has done. 

2) What Jesus has Done (defeated death)

In 1 Corinthians 15:1-8, we read these words from a follower of Jesus called Paul:

3 For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance[a]: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, 4 that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, 5 and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. 6 After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. 7 Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, 8 and last of all he appeared to me also,

Notice what Paul is saying:

That Christ died. He was buried. And – remarkably – he rose from the dead. 

But he didn’t just rise from the dead. He rose in such as way that he appeared to many people: to Cephas (or Peter), another key follower of Jesus, to the Twelve (more key followers of Jesus), and then to more than 500 brothers and sisters – followers of Jesus – at the same time. 

Paul’s saying that Jesus really did come back from the dead as promised by the Bible (and by Jesus himself). And there’s eye-witness proof that it happened. 

Now, many sceptics through the ages have said that the early Church made up the resurrection of Jesus. Or that it’s just a metaphor, a symbol. But not an actual historical event. 

But if early Church leaders like Paul made it up, why would he publicly declare here in this letter: look,  hundreds of people saw Jesus at the same time, most of whom are still living? The readers of the letter could do their own fact-checking if they wanted to! 

Other skeptics argue that maybe the followers thought they saw Jesus: but they were hallucinating. 

But Look again at what Paul says: in verse 6: Jesus appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time. Ask any secular Psychologist, and they’ll tell you that group hallucination, where everybody sees the same thing, doesn’t happen. 

And look, there are other compelling reasons to accept the Bible’s account of Jesus’ resurrection.

Such as, none of his followers expected it. Quite the opposite. 

As historians of 1st-century Jewish culture point out, Jesus’ resurrection went against Jesus’ followers’ deeply held beliefs and expectations. First century Jews knew that someone dead stayed dead. Yes, they believed in a resurrection at the end of history. 

But not a one-off resurrection in the middle of history. 

Something had to convince them that Jesus rose from the dead. 

If you’re uncertain whether Jesus rose from the dead, please know this: the historical evidence for this happening is very strong. You can stake your life on it. 

And on a personal note, it was re-examing the historical evidence for Jesus’ resurrection that lifted me out of the depressive state I mentioned earlier when I turned 40. When I realised afresh that yes, Jesus has defeated death, and brought hope to humanity, hope to me – this freed me from my fear of death. 

So Jesus smashed death. He defeated it by rising from it. And why did he do it? 

Well, to give us something we could never have gotten for ourselves: 

A radical Hope. Not a Writer’s Festival Hope. 

But A Hope that not even the grave can defeat. A hope that’s certain. A Hope that’s secure.

Jesus won for us eternal life. Life With God, forever. Life beyond the grave. 

3) What Jesus has Won for Us (Eternal Life)

If you look again at verse 3, we read:

[T]hat Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.

Christ came into the world on that first Christmas on a mission. A rescue mission. He was born so that he might die. So that he might die for our sins. 

The Bible says that we’ve rebelled against God like rebellious teenagers rebel against their parents. And for that, we deserve to be punished. Rebelling against the Creator and Ruler of the Universe has serious consequences.

But Jesus came into the world to take that punishment for us. To die for our sins. So that we might be free from God’s punishment. So that we might be free from God’s Judgement.

And be reconciled to Him as our Heavenly Father. 

Most people- religious or not - have the instinct as they approach death to put things right with those around them. They need to say sorry, perhaps to their kids, for how they failed them. Or to reconcile with that brother they haven’t spoken to for 20 years. 

Nearly every religion says there’s a reckoning after we die: that when we face God, He will weigh our works. And God will look at our resume of good works and weigh it against our resume of bad works: if we’re good enough, then we get to heaven. 

But if not, we’re judged. 

Now The Bible affirms that a Judgement Day is coming. But it says no resume of good works will ever be good enough to pass that Judgement. We’re just too rebellious. 

Which is why Jesus came to die for our sins. And give us his perfect resume as if it were ours. 

So that on the day of Judgement, if you’re a follower of Jesus, God will look at your resume, the one Jesus gave you – He’ll look at that resume and say that you’re perfect. Righteous. (In fact, when you become a Christian, you’re giving Jesus’ perfect resume as if it were yours).

And He’ll give you a Royal Welcome into His Kingdom. Into Eternal life. 

And what will this eternal life be like?

Well, the Bible gives us a picture at the end of the Bible, in Revelation 21:1-4

21 Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. 2 I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

It’s a beautiful picture!

It’s a new creation: a new world, what the Bible calls a new Heaven and New earth. We’re not sitting on clouds as disembodied spirits playing harps. God’s Kingdom, the new Jerusalem, is coming down from heaven to be here on earth. Heaven will be here on earth, as it were. It will be a physical place. 

And look at verse 4: 

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

Oh, how sweet! 

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a funeral. Even Christian funerals – while hopeful – are laced with sadness. But there’ll be no more funerals in the New Heavens and New Earth. 

No more sadness, No more tears, No more pain. No more death. 

Ever again.

That’s the world God promises to those who belong to Him. That’s the hope Jesus won for us when he rose again from the dead. 

But do you notice the best thing about this new world coming our way?

Have a look at verse 3:

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 

Dwelling with God. Seeing Him face to face. Being with Him.

Does that surprise you? 

It shouldn’t. 

Let me explain why dwelling face-to-face with God will be the best thing about the New Creation. I’ll use my marriage as an example.  

You see, there are many good things about being married to my wife, Sarah. 

She’s a great cook. She’s a great housekeeper. She earns good money as a Psychologist, which helps the family Budget. She’s a fantastic mum to our kids (it would be incredibly challenging to parent without her). 

But what’s the best thing about being married to Sarah? It’s Sarah herself. Being with Sarah. Sharing my life with her. Likewise, as good as it will be to be in a world without pain, 

As amazing as it will be to have bodies that never grow old, bodies that never die. The best thing will be the relationships:

Dwelling with God’s people. And most of all, dwelling with God Himself. Enjoying Him and His presence for all eternity. 

Like a happily married couple enjoys each other. That’s what Jesus won for us. Through His Life. His death. And His resurrection. 

4) How to Face Death with Hope

Now at this point, you might say to me:

‘Akos, that’s great to know. It’s great to know in my head that my eternal life is secure because of Jesus. But emotionally, I’m still scared of death. 

I’m going through a tough patch now, and I want that hope to be there. I know it’s real. But I want it to drive me. I want it to strengthen me. I want it to give me the fuel I need to keep going.

How do I build that hope?’

The Short Answer: 

It’s all about where you fix your eyes. It’s all about what you look at.

The other day I was driving, and – confession time – I looked at a text that came through. I wasn’t going fast; it was slow-moving traffic. But I suddenly realised that I had been looking at this text too intently and should look up.

And I’m glad I did because I almost ran into the person in front of me. And I had to slam on the brakes. 

You see, I fixed my eyes on my phone when instead, I should have fixed my eyes in front of me, onto the road. 

And it’s the same idea with hope: 

If you want more hope in your life, the hope that can face anything, even death, fix your eyes on Jesus. 

The more you look at Jesus, on what He has done, on what He has won for you. The more you remind yourself of the amazing future Jesus has in store for you, 

The stronger your hope will grow.

This is why in passages like Hebrews 12, the writer encourages us to:

‘…run with perseverance the race marked out for us,  fixing our eyes on Jesus…’

If we fix our eyes on Jesus, we’ll see life the right way. We’ll remember that no matter what happens in this life, Jesus is waiting for us at the end. 

Death will be transformed from a scary, horrifying reality to a mere speedbump on the way to eternal life. The more you look at Jesus, the more you’ll see death not as the end but as a glorious new beginning. You’ll realise that the only thing death will do to you will be to make your life infinitely better. 

Instead of being paralysed by fear, you’ll be able to say with the apostle Paul: ‘to live is Christ, and to die is gain’. 

Even though you might walk through the deepest valley of darkness, as you look to Jesus, you’ll know it’s not the end. That in the end, everything will be okay. No matter how hard things are now. 

The more you look to Jesus and remember what He’s won for you, your hope will get bigger – and more radical. And your fears will get smaller.  

Let me wrap up.

While the Byron Bay Writer’s festival failed in its promise to give its delegates radical hope, I read about a 19th-century American Christian called D L. Moody who grabbed hold of the hope of Jesus with both hands. 

This is what he had to say:

‘Some day, you will read in the papers that D.L. Moody is dead. Don’t you believe a word of it. At that moment, I will be more alive than I am now.’

Some day, unless Jesus returns beforehand, you and I will die. On that day, if you belong to Jesus, you and I will be more alive than we are now. If you belong to Jesus, that’s your Future hope.