Desperate hope

"Christians are those who, like the thief on the cross, have turned to him with faith that is more like a desperate hope . . . " - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

I'm careful how I speak of other Christians, many of whom have a far purer heart and more earnest faith than my own. Yet some of my fellow believers seem to act as if they belong to an exclusive club, to which they've earned admittance by how they've lived. And still I need to be careful because, in truth, most of them have lived their faith far better than I have. And therein lies the reason this passage resonated within me.

If heaven is a reward for living a good life, as my father-in-law's neighbor once suggested and as many good people believe, I'm in big trouble. There is no way I can ever hope to do enough good to make up for the evil I've done. I can easily agree with Solzhenitsyn's observation that the line between good and evil runs through every human heart, because I cannot disown the evidence of my life. Desperate hope? Absolutely, and often more desperate than hopeful! My only hope is that Christ has purchased for me the reward to which I can never again aspire on my own.

I'm really relating to Fr. Neuhaus' excellent book:

"When our faith is weak, when we are assailed by contradictions and doubts," - or by our own unworthiness, for that matter - "we are tempted to look at our faith, to worry about our faith, to try to work up more faith.  At such times, however, we must not  look to our faith but look to him.  Look to him, listen to him, and faith will take care of itself.  Keep looking.  Keep listening."

I strive to live as I believe I'm called, not in the hope of thereby gaining heaven, but because the grace and love that this undeniably undeserving sinner has received demands no less a response.