Hope in a Hurry
Hope—the word itself has such a positive reputation that there is no shortage of helpful quotations about it. In 1969 Hal Lindsey wrote The Late Great Planet Earth. Israel’s Six-Day War had provoked a renewed interest in prophecy, and Lindsey’s popular style made his book a sensational bestseller. Recent tensions in that region have helped Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins see their popular Left Behind series selling in the multiple millions. When war rages in the Middle East, observers around the world are eager for hope. On the battlefield itself, Soldiers are desperate for it.
Lindsey once expressed the view that “we can live forty days without food, eight days without water, four minutes without air, but only a few seconds without hope.” Another popular author wrote of the power of hope as though it were a force in itself:
When we are trapped in a tunnel of misery, hope points to the light at the end. When we are overworked and exhausted, hope gives us fresh energy. When we are discouraged, hope lifts our spirits. When we are tempted to quit, hope keeps us going. When we lose our way and confusion blurs the destination, hope keeps us from panic. When we struggle with a crippling disease or lingering illness, hope helps us persevere beyond the pain. When we fear the worst, hope brings reminders that God is still in control. When we must endure the consequences of bad decisions, hope fuels our recovery. When we are forced to sit back and wait, hope gives us the patience to trust. When we feel rejected and abandoned, hope reminds us we are not alone. When we say our final farewell to someone we love, hope in life beyond gets us through our grief. Put simply, when life hurts and dreams fade, nothing helps like hope.1
There may be some encouragement in such a description of hope, but lofty words without a foundation in objective truth can cheer the hopeless without bringing change. Faith itself is often touted as a source of strength by those who fail to base it in truth, and even love is described in terms more accurately describing lust. As an Army Chaplain, I have seen men who need hope in a hurry. They do not need a pep talk; they need truth, sometimes in the final moments of their lives. There is a difference between telling men they need hope and giving them the truth that will bring it. The Military Chaplain ministers hope in the normal challenges of life, of course, but he must be so well-versed in hope that he can hold the hand of a wounded Soldier whose life blood is soaking into the dust around him, his body shaking in fear and his eyes filled with panic, and offer him more than a soothing presence.
Real Hope
There are around 1,300 Chaplains in the United States Army. They represent a wide variety of religions and denominations. The priest who kneels beside the fallen soldier will not hesitate to administer last rites, and the defenders of ecumenism will not question him for it. The Fundamental Baptist Chaplain who is intimidated by the demands of “pluralism” will not be ready when the fallen man needs eternal hope and needs it in a hurry. It takes presence of mind to focus on the fact that in the moment of truth what is needed is truth. When it is time to tell a Soldier, “There are two eternal things right here, right now: your soul and God’s Word; we have just a few minutes to get them together,” the Chaplain who knows how to do that has to see it as a God-given opportunity. If there is one thing that should characterize the life of a Bible-believing Chaplain, it is real hope.
As a Chaplain I have the responsibility to reach Soldiers who have no hope, whether they are facing death or struggling with life. Every imaginable problem that life can bring happens to our Soldiers. Crises of every kind—physical, spiritual, financial, family, and every possible combination of them—are present in almost any group. They have tried cheering each other up, drowning their problems in alcohol or drugs, and even visiting the Chaplains, some of whom are helpful and some of whom have problems themselves. “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life” (Prov. 13:12). The Soldier who comes for hope should not be turned away heartsick. Many of our young Soldiers are in a desperate struggle for hope. They are chasing empty promises and holding false hope. They cannot find lasting hope in anything they try. They have tried religious fads, psychology, success books, and hammering it out in their own minds, hoping in personal strength and determination. They move from one thing to another like children playing with one toy after another. They indulge in addictions; they move from one partner to another; they are in an endless pursuit to dull the pain of lives that are empty of hope. I have heard them ask, “Is there any hope? Is there any hope? How are we going to get through this?” I must provide a “spiritual presence” in my unit, but that must have meaning. I must be dedicated to the message of the gospel—the only message of true hope. I must be ready with hope in a hurry.
“Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost” (Rom. 15:13). God is the source of hope! He alone is the Creator and Author of hope. Hope is a characteristic of our God. As His messengers, we must be messengers of His hope.
The Hope of the Gospel
Whenever I talk to a Soldier, my focus must be to offer “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27). We have no other message. We need no other message. I am not a social worker, even though I may be called upon to provide practical assistance in certain situations. I am not a life coach, even though I may counsel young people about life decisions and coach them toward a positive outcome. (How can anyone attempt effective suicide intervention apart from “Christ in you, the hope of glory”?) I am a Fundamental Baptist US Army Chaplain—I am simply a messenger of the hope of the gospel.
As a Chaplain I try to follow three guiding principles to make me an effective messenger of this hope. First, I want to embody hope in my own life. I care. I want my Soldiers to have hope. I have a bright light that must shine in a dark place. My own hope helps me to be always ready to listen and eager to share the load of a Soldier’s burden. My own hope-producing faith is the evidence of the Lord’s work in my own life, “knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us” (Rom. 5:3–5).
Second, as a Chaplain I want to be a link to life. The stock-in-trade of the Armed Forces is “armed force.” It is unavoidably bound up in the potential for destruction and death. I must be a symbol of all that is good about life—of the values that are worth defending. I must have strong character and unshakable confidence, a good sense of humor, and a current perspective on what is happening in the lives of Soldiers. By God’s grace I must show a profound patience with people who are hurting. The ability to form relationships that give meaning and purpose to life is a true link to life for those who are struggling, even with whether to go on living. Never forget that ultimate hope is hope in eternal life.
As a Chaplain, I’m not offering a hopeless religion, because it is “not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost; Which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour; That being justified by his grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:5–7). My ministry goal is that my Soldiers will become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
Third, I want to be a Chaplain who has real answers for real questions. I am ready with the answer for the hope which is within me, as 1 Peter 3:15 tells me to be: “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.” I can be prompt but patient with God’s powerful answers. God’s Word enables me to turn a Soldier’s doubt into dependence on God. Soldiers are often in a hurry—even when they have to obey the well-known principle of “hurry up and wait.” I want to be a Chaplain who knows when to tell them to hurry up and wait . . . on God!
Chaplain (COL) Gary Fisher currently serves at US Army Garrison, Fort Drum, NY
(Originally published in FrontLine • November/December 2009. Click here to subscribe to the magazine.)
- Chuck Swindoll, Hope Again (Dallas: Word Publishing, 1996), p. xi. [↩]