Hope can seem impossible in the midst of emptiness. When our plans fall apart, we struggle to remain hopeful. Yet God gives hope in the midst of such voids. The hope that comes from God’s love does not disappoint. As St Paul writes to the Romans, “hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” How do we hold onto the hope God gives when we face so much despair?

God’s way of hope arises out of the void. There is often nothing visible to substantiate such hope. We may see no possibility, and yet God brings it to pass.

The reality of such hope is seen in the story of Abraham and Sarah. The promise of a son to them in their old age sounds more absurd than realistic. Sarah even laughed, as if to say, “What a joke.” How could she bear a son when she was old? Yet God insisted that she would bear a son. This was four thousand years before the invention of IVF gave hope to those longing for a child.

However, the hope found in God’s promise is beyond explanation. God said to Abraham, “Is anything too wonderful for the LORD? At the set time I will return to you, in due season, and Sarah shall have a son” (Genesis 18:14).

The picture here is that God is moved by human need and provides for it, not because help is deserved or earned, but because of the grace in which we stand. St Paul reiterates: “Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God” (Romans 5:1–2).

First, God gives hope not because we deserve it, but out of divine grace. God’s grace, revealed in Christ, provides the basis for our hope and shows us God’s love. The foundation of this hope is not found in worldly success. Too often, people are disappointed because their hope is placed in worldly achievement. It is not the kind of hope that resembles winning the lottery.

We find hope in Jesus Christ, who hears our cries and our supplications, and who reveals the love of God. Hope is trusting that God will give something better in God’s own way. It is not dependent on our abilities; rather, it is grounded in the character and purpose of God.

Our hope rests in the love of God. St Paul is noticeably clear about God’s love and the hope that flows from it: “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. … But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:6–8).

Secondly, the hope God gives involves human participation.

The Gospel points us to the way Jesus cares for the people. They are harassed and helpless. Jesus sees these sheep without a shepherd and heals every disease and every sickness. God sees and moves to heal first. Yet in each case, God involves human beings in this hopeful work. God empowers people to bring healing, even in the face of laughable odds. We too can be the human hands through which God brings hope. Let me share an example from my own experience.

In my research on the mission of the Methodist Mission in Queen Street, Auckland, I found that the mission, though a good neighbour, was operating largely through a welfare model. I argued that this model, first, did not empower clients towards becoming self-supporting members of the community; second, it did not address the root causes of poverty; and third, it had created a dependency on the mission’s services, both for the clients and, in some respects, for the mission’s own identity. People came for food and clothing for years; in one case, a person had been coming to the mission for twenty-two years.

This may reflect a sincere Christian model of being a good neighbour, but the question remains: where is the hope for real breakthrough?

So, I argued that the soup kitchen should be closed and replaced with a model that offered training in practical skills while people were being fed and clothed. As a result, the soup kitchen closed and the Merge Café was established on K’ Road. Clients were trained in hospitality and other skills. Those who had once come only for food and clothing began working as delivery drivers, kitchen hands, cooks, and café staff.

There was hope for them to open themselves to a new way of life. I argued that the concept of the Good Neighbour, which underpinned the service delivery, must seek the total well-being of the client.

The hope God gives means that the dots are already there; we need to connect them. That is where human participation becomes part of God’s plan and action.

The thought I wish to leave with you is this: can we be the human hands that name and connect the actions of a hopeful God in seemingly hopeless situations?