Stephen
Terry, Director
Indestructible
Hope
Commentary
for the August 13, 2022, Sabbath School Lesson
"Therefore, since we are
surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that
hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance
the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter
of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame,
and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured
such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews
12:1-3, NIV
Fifty-three years ago, I
graduated high school. I had hoped to go to junior college to study art with
the goal of becoming a commercial artist. However, my father, who had never
been to college refused to support the idea of me attending college. I would
have been the first to do so in generations, and he felt if he could make it in
the world without college then I didn't need to go either. Because of the
tension in the family over this, complicated with other dysfunctionalities, I
needed to find another path to college. I was at a loss for how to proceed. No
one seemed to know the process. Overburdened school counselors at one of the
largest high schools in Washington State seemed focused on those students who
demonstrated academic aptitude. Due to family dysfunction that did not support
education or the public school system, I barely managed to eke out a C+ grade
point average. This was not considered a foundation for academic success.
However, I knew I had it in me because of an earlier experience. I needed to
find a way forward despite my record.
In junior high school, I had
enrolled in a course for learning the German language. But because of
inadequate materials (students had to share books and recordings on a rotating
basis), a desire on the part of the instructor to expel enough students so only
the best students were left with exactly the right number for the books and
records they had, and a traumatic home life that made studying all but
impossible, I was one of those expelled. The instructor told me at the time I
should not take languages in the future as I had no aptitude for them. I was crushed,
but I saw it as a challenge. I knew that once I got to high school, I could try
enrolling in language instruction again.
By that time, I had managed to
convince my parents to allow me to clear enough space among the things stored in
the attic to have my own bedroom. There were no walls, just the rafters and a
partial floor. But it allowed me enough privacy away from the chaos at home to
be able to study more effectively. When I got to high school, I enrolled in
French and Russian. I received all A's for three years for French and for the
one year that Russian was offered. Unfortunately, the last year of junior high
school was factored into my overall grade point average. That coupled with a struggle
I had with calculus left me with the C+ average. I wasn't sure how to overcome
that obstacle.
One of the things that is a part
of the experience of high school seniors, regardless of grade average is a
visit from the local military recruiter. He offered me college paid for by the
G.I. Bill. Vietnam era veterans would receive a monthly stipend from matriculation
to graduation after military service. It was only $350.00 per month, but
coupled with other scholarships and grants, it allowed me not only to attend
college but to attend a private one with smaller class sizes and more opportunities
for experience in the chosen major. Seeing no other viable options, I enlisted.
Basic Training was not easy. I
was sent to a place misnamed Fort Bliss just outside of El Paso, Texas. Summers
are horrendously hot there. They added to the misery of constant exercise and
running everywhere we went while under the unceasing harassment of drill instructors.
Pushups were a common punishment for infractions. But one of their favorite
tortures was to have us heft a heavy object like a log or a rifle at arm's
length and hold it there. I suppose the idea was to inure us to suffering so we
would push through despite the pain to achieve our goals. Maybe that helped me
to push through not only basic training, but later jump school and even through
college. Amazingly, despite participating in the Vietnam War and later jumping
out of airplanes as a paratrooper, I survived to get to college. The hope of a
brighter future that my father would not provide aided me in enduring what it
took to get there. Knowing from experience what it takes, I made sure my own
son had all the support I could muster so he could obtain that educational
foundation that my father denied me. When I attended his graduation from Tulane
in New Orleans with a master's in architecture, it sadly reminded me that my
father refused to attend my own graduation from college.
I did not end up as an artist
though I believe I would have done well at it. Instead, I majored in both Theology
and Biblical Languages. While I only worked briefly in a pastoral career as one
might expect from such a background, the simple fact of having a four-year
degree opened the doors to state employment where I spent two decades with the
Department of Social and Health Services of Washington State. But what I feel
is far more important is that I learned invaluable critical thinking and
research skills that have served me well in life. College didn't make me a
better person than someone who has not attended, but it left me better prepared
to face what life throws at me. Knowing that I have endured everything I needed
to get there has given me the fortitude to see things through to their end.
The ultimate example of that is
a person who went through tremendous trials for three and a half years to
achieve his goal. That person was Jesus of Nazareth. Since that goal was his
death upon a cross, some might say that his life sucked. He indicated to his disciples
that he knew how he would end up. Despite that knowledge, he pressed forward
until he achieved that end. I struggled for many years to reach my goal; one I
believe was a positive one. But who would struggle so hard for a goal that
meant their own death? It seems senseless until we read what he had to say about
it. His goal was to save us from the hopelessness of eternal death as our end.
He wanted us to have a hope and future beyond the miseries of this life.[i]
This is what life comes down to.
If there is no hope for the future, then there is little point in striving for
any lasting goal. Our limited mortality renders it meaningless. The transient
pleasures of this life are only the frail skeletons of our dreams. We would be just
as well off to spend our time with inane activities; hours upon hours of endless
video games, binging videos, taking mind altering drugs, or swimming in a sea
of alcohol. What we do makes little difference. But God leads us to believe
differently, and he made it possible through Jesus, who shared hope with us. He
modeled a life that was lived according to the Proverb, "There is surely a
future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off."[ii]
The essential message of the
Bible is that no matter what may be transpiring in our lives, there is hope.
While I may not have realized it at the time, there was hope for me as a child
and when the light of that hope was realized it took me beyond what generations
before me had seen and done. But hope does not end there. It transcends
eternity. Once we discover that hope, it not only lights our lives, but it can
also be seen for what it is, no matter how deep the darkness that tries to
obscure it. In fact, once we have that light, we are the only ones who can
block it from emanating. That is why Jesus cautioned those who followed him
against placing a basket over that light, preventing its glow from being seen. Light
is a powerful metaphor for hope. In a completely dark room, if someone were to
strike a match, that tiny glow will be seen from every corner of the room. It
will project shadows on the walls showing the darkness that troubles us for
what it is, just shadows. If we then turn from that light, preferring those shadows
to the reality of hope, our life becomes one with our choice and ends up a
brief shadow flickering on the wall and then it is quickly gone. The vanity of
that is the greatest evidence there must be something more. The choice is ours
as to whether we pursue that hope, guided by its light, or we simply choose to "...eat
and drink, for tomorrow we die."[iii]