Jubilee, hope and a couple of movies
Does the phrase read like a series of non sequitors? Jubilee, hope and a couple of movies? Assuming that’s a yes, let’s work backward to integrate them, beginning with “a couple of movies.”
Until I met my husband, I had neither heard of nor watched Frank Capra’s classic film, It’s A Wonderful Life. From the very first moments of the movie, I was hooked. In fact, each Christmas season, we watch it at least once, sometimes twice, despite being able to practically recite the dialogue along with Jimmy Stewart, Henry Travers (Clarence) and Donna Reed. One would think that after seeing a movie over almost thirty times, it would lose its effect. But it never does.
Why?
From the first scene. we enter a world of clarity. The black and white of the filming operates metaphorically: the decisions of ordinary people in an “average” American town for good or evil profoundly affect everyone- even the entire world. Despite its total absence of overt religiousity, It’s A Wonderful Life portrays the consequences of virtue and vice, pride and humility…of good and evil. Sometimes subtly, and occasionally, dramatically. Always, my heart swells with the messages offered by this beautifully written and acted film.
The second movie is almost It’s A Wonderful Life’s antithesis: Average Joe. This film fits its title–average, meaning mediocre. The screenplay, direction, storyline and acting are mostly inferior. And yet, I liked it well enough to write about it here.
Why?
Because it tells the true story of an ordinary man and woman. Neither of whom lives a life that others want to imitate, until the coach refused to stop praying after each game on the fifty-yard line. And suddenly, all us “average Joes” wake up to the difference we can make if…
“This is a great time to be alive,” Kennedy said. “God has something to say. It’s everyday Americans who can make a difference just by standing up and showing up.”
Denise shared that they are both amazed at how God has used them. “Joe and I look at each other every day and say, ‘Do you realize there’s a movie coming out about our lives?’ Our lives are like a jigsaw puzzle with 500 pieces dumped all over, and God put them together in such a surprising way.”
Hope
The word hope, when used in conversation, often connotes a passive, inert emotion. When asked if we think we can accomplish something, our answer, “I hope so!” implies a lack of control over the outcome. And we’re right, because hope is neither passive nor inert, it is combative and doesn’t come from us but from God.
On the first day of this month, we lit the first candle on the advent wreath: the one signifying hope. The apostle of the Gentiles explained why on that three-week-ago Sunday.
“But when the right time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, subject to the law. God sent him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that he could adopt us as his very own children. And because we are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, “Abba, Father.” Now you are no longer a slave but God’s own child. And since you are his child, God has made you his heir.” Galations 4:4-8
The last sentences warrant repeating: “Now you are no longer a slave but God’s only child. And since you are his child, God has made you his heir.”
But, we protest,
“My son was killed by a drunk driver last week.”
“My eighteen-year-old daughter overdosed on heroin last Christmas.”
“They found a mass on my liver and think it may be cancerous.”
In his sixty-five page book On Hope, Pope Francis addresses those in too much pain to be consoled. Rachel, he writes, teaches us about “hope lived in tears.”
The prophet Jeremiah refers to Rachel as he addresses the Israelites in exile, trying to console them with words full of emotion and poetry; that is, he takes up Rachel’s lament, but offers hope: “Thus says the Lord: ‘A voice is heard in Ramah, / lamentation and bitter weeping. / Rachel is weeping for her children; / she refuses to be comforted for her children, / because they are not…In the face of the tragedy of the loss of her children, a mother cannot accept words or gestures of consolation, which are always inadequate, never capable of alleviating the pain of a wound that cannot and does not want to be healed, a pain proportionate to her love.
Jubilee
If there’s a consistent theme of the Holy Father’s almost twelve-year papacy, it’s hope. His wonderful phrase, “combative hope,” evokes Mary on this fourth Sunday of Advent. “Full of Grace is fully aware of precisely whom she is carrying in her own body: how else can we refer to her seventy-odd year life on earth but as one filled with combative hope? Is there another human who fits the pope’s explanation of his phrase?
“This spiritual hope is much more than mere optimism. It is not full of fan-fare, nor is it afraid of silence. Rather, it penetrates deep down within us, like sap in winter roots. Hope is certain, and it is the Father of Truth who gives it to us. Hope discerns between good and evil. It does not worship at the altar of success: falling into optimism; nor is it content with failure: wallowing in pessimism. Because hope discerns between good and evil, it is called to do combat. Yet it fights without anxiety or illusion, with the assurance of one who knows that he pursues a sure goal…”
Just so, this coming Tuesday evening at 7pm CST, the Holy Doors will open to inaugurate Jubilee 2025: Pilgrims of Hope. Although Pope Francis declared a 2015-2016 an Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy, I didn’t bother to learn the meaning of jubilee. Because of my recent read of several Johnathan Cahn’s books however, I have some understanding of the immensely rich tradition of Jubilee years in the Jewish and Catholic traditions. And a smidgen of the extraordinary blessings available for those awake enough to seek them.
The word itself derives from the Hebrew, ‘jobrel’ meaning a ram’s horn, the method by which the jubilee years were communicated. They were years of rejoicing because of universal pardon, freedom from slavey, forgiveness of debt and restoration of land to the rightful owners. EWTN provides a detailed explanation of the opening of the Holy Doors, here.
My thoughts turn to all those pilgrims of hope who will travel to Rome in order to experience the Holy Year and to all those others who, though unable to visit the City of the Apostles Peter and Paul, will celebrate it in their local Churches. For everyone, may the Jubilee be a moment of genuine, personal encounter with the Lord Jesus, the “door” (cf. Jn 10:7.9) of our salvation, whom the Church is charged to proclaim always, everywhere and to all as “our hope” (1 Tim 1:1).
Everyone knows what it is to hope. In the heart of each person, hope dwells as the desire and expectation of good things to come, despite our not knowing what the future may bring. Even so, uncertainty about the future may at times give rise to conflicting feelings, ranging from confident trust to apprehensiveness, from serenity to anxiety, from firm conviction to hesitation and doubt. Often we come across people who are discouraged, pessimistic and cynical about the future, as if nothing could possibly bring them happiness. For all of us, may the Jubilee be an opportunity to be renewed in hope. God’s word helps us find reasons for that hope. Taking it as our guide, let us return to the message that the Apostle Paul wished to communicate to the Christians of Rome.
Even if you’re not a dog person.
Or you dislike small animals.
Or you really dislike this pope, these sixteen minutes are worth your time…promise.
