Incorruptible

¹⁶ For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. ¹⁷ And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. ¹⁸ Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. ¹⁹ If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.

-1 Corinthians 15:16-19

I was thinking today. Yeah, I know--dangerous stuff. No, but really. I was thinking about a lot of things--dangerous topics for me, but I refused to rebuke them. I thought (in general, not specific instances) about what might happen, what  probably will happen, and what most certainly will happen to me/friends/family in the span of however many years I live. Guess what? I got worried. I got sad. I got feeling like life is too hard for me to handle. Knowing that my thoughts would take me to this point, I felt ridiculously predictable.

At times I feel hopeless, and I say I have no hope. There's proof enough on this blog, for crying out loud. The topic of hope probably takes up more than half my posts on here. The lie could not be more obvious. I don't even know what hopelessness looks like. I, who grew up with a strong Christian family, came to Christ at a young age, and have been discipled all my life do not understand real hopelessness. I have always known, if not fully believed, that there is a God who created humankind, who saved me from the consequences of rebellion, and who, as Father, Shepherd, and King, leads me through this tragic comedy of life. I have never lost someone who did not know Christ and is therefore eternally condemned (which I'm sure is a truly hopeless feeling.) Hopelessness takes many forms and corrupts many hearts, but the Holy Spirit has strengthened me (and all my brothers and sisters in Christ) with incorruptible hope.

This means that unless I completely abandon my faith forever (most likely proving I was never really a Christian) I am secure in Christ's death and resurrection. I am secure, thank the Lord! I must remember this truth:

Christ's work is the only security I can't steal from myself.

I do not have the power to "un-resurrect" Christ. Therefore, as Paul claims, no one can take away my hope.

So what is true hopelessness? True hopelessness, simply put, is not knowing God and the power of Christ's resurrection. Let's enter the life of a hopeless individual.

 Life is a short thrill ride that ends with a derailed track. The goal is to seek as much pleasure as possible and help improve the lives of succeeding generations. Friends hurt--there is nothing to see there but pain. Maybe you can provide them with a little comfort. Family dies. You'll never see them again. Maybe you get in a car accident and are paralyzed from the neck down. Well, you might as well kill yourself now, seeing as you're no longer helping society or gaining pleasure for yourself. You have no intrinsic worth--you must prove yourself to be worthy. There is no perfect love, no God that understands or saves you from this helpless state of being.

What's left when you die? A decomposing body packed under layers of dirt, and if you're very lucky, the memory of you and your work that will last among the living for centuries. Even so you will slowly dwindle into the realm of the forgotten. And guess what? You get the biggest and most terrible surprise of all. You were wrong all along thinking faith in God was stupid, and here you are suffering eternal torment. There truly is no hope for you anymore.

When I compare my times of "hopelessness" to a legitimate hopeless case such as the fictional account above, I begin to realize . . . I have never been hopeless . . . nor will I ever be. I don't need to fight for hope. Hope fights for me.