I HOPE is a very common expression. Everybody can say, “I hope.” About no subject is the expression used so commonly as it is about religion. Nothing is more frequent than to hear men turn off[1] some home-thrust[2] at conscience by this convenient form of words, “I hope.” “I hope it will be all right at last.” “I hope I shall be a better man some day.” “I hope we shall all get to heaven.” But why do they hope? On what is their hope built? Too often they cannot tell you! Too often it is a mere excuse for avoiding a disagreeable subject. “Hoping,” they live on. “Hoping,” they grow old. “Hoping,” they die at last and find too often that they are lost for ever in hell.
I ask the serious attention of all who read this paper. The subject is one of the deepest importance: “We are saved by hope” (Rom 8:24). Let us, then, make sure that our hope is sound. Have we a hope that our sins are pardoned, our hearts renewed, and our souls at peace with God? Then let us see to it that our hope is “good” and “lively” and one “that maketh not ashamed.”(2Th 2:16; 1Pe 1:3; Rom 5:5). Let us consider our ways. Let us not shrink from honest, searching inquiry into the condition of our souls. If our hope is good, examination will do it no harm. If our hope is bad, it is high time to know it and to seek a better.
There are five marks of a really “good hope.” I desire to place them before my readers in order. Let us ask ourselves what we know of them. Let us prove our own state by them. Happy is he who can say of each of these marks, I know it by experience. This is my hope about my soul.”
I. In the first place, a good hope is a hope that a man can explain. What saith the Scripture? “Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you” (1Pe 3:15).
If our hope is sound we must be able to give some account of it. We must be able to show why, and wherefore, and on what grounds, and for what reason we expect to go to heaven when we die. Now can we do this?
Let no one misunderstand my meaning. I do not say that deep learning and great knowledge are absolutely needful to salvation. A man may know twenty languages and have the whole body of divinity at his fingers' ends, and yet be lost. A man may be unable to read and have a very weak understanding, and yet be saved. But I do say that a man must know what his hope is and be able to tell us its nature. I cannot believe that a man has got possession of a thing if he knows nothing about it.
Once more, let no one misunderstand my meaning. I do not say that a power of talking well is necessary to salvation. There may be many fine words on a man's lips and not a whit of grace in his heart. There may be few and stammering words, and yet deep feeling within, planted there by the Holy Ghost. There are some who cannot speak many words for Christ, and yet would die for Him. But for all this, I do say that the man who has a good hope ought to be able to tell us why. If he can tell us no more than this, that he feels himself a sinner, and has no hope but in Christ, it is something. But if he can tell us nothing at all, I must suspect that he has got no real hope.
I am aware that the opinion just expressed displeases many. Thousands can see no necessity for that clear knowledge which I believe to be essential to a saving hope. So long as a man goes to church on Sunday and has his children baptized, they think we ought to be content. “Knowledge,” they tell us, “may be very well for clergymen and professors of theology; but it is too much to require it of common men.”
My answer to all such people is short and simple. Where in the whole New Testament shall we find that men were called Christians, unless they knew something of Christianity? Will anyone try to persuade me that a Corinthian Christian, or a Colossian, or Thessalonian, or Philippian, or Ephesian, could not have told us what was his hope about his soul? Let those believe it who will: I, for one, cannot. I believe that in requiring a man to know the ground of his hope I am only setting up the standard of the New Testament. Ignorance may suit a Roman Catholic well enough. He belongs to what he considers to be the true Church! He does as his priest tells him! He asks no more! But ignorance ought never to be the characteristic of a Protestant Christian. He ought to know what he believes; and if he does not know he is in a bad way.
I ask every reader of this paper to search his heart and see how the matter stands with his soul. Can you tell us nothing more than that “you hope to be saved”? Can you give no explanation of the grounds of your confidence? Can you show us nothing more satisfactory than your own vague expectation? If this be the case you are in imminent peril of being lost for ever. Like Ignorance, in Pilgrim's Progress, you may get to your journey's end and be ferried by Vainhope over the river without much trouble. But, like Ignorance, you may find to your sorrow that there is no admission for you into the Celestial City. None enter in there but those who “know what as well as whom they have believed.”
I lay down this principle as a starting point, and I ask my readers to consider it well. I admit most fully that there are different degrees of grace among true Christians. I do not forget that there are many in the family of God whose faith is very weak and whose hope is very small. But I believe confidently, that the standard of requirement I have set up is not a whit too high. I believe that the man who has a “good hope” will always be able to give some account of it.
II: In the second place, a good hope is a hope that is drawn from Scripture. What says David? “I hope in Thy word.” “Remember the word unto Thy servant, upon which Thou hast caused me to hope.” What says St. Paul? “Whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope” (Psa 119:81, 49; Rom 14:4).
If our hope is sound, we ought to be able to turn to some text or fact or doctrine of God's Word as the source of it. Our confidence must arise from something which God has caused to be written in the Bible for our learning and which our heart has received and believed.
It is not enough to have good feelings about the state of our souls. We may flatter ourselves that all is right and that we are going to heaven when we die, and yet have nothing to show for our expectations but mere fancy and imagination. “The heart is deceitful above all things.” “He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool” (Jer 17:9; Pro 28:26). I have frequently heard dying people say that they felt quite happy and ready to go. I have heard them say that they felt as if they craved nothing in this world. And all this time I have remarked that they were profoundly ignorant of Scripture and seemed unable to lay firm hold on a single truth of the Gospel! I never can feel comfort about such people. I am persuaded that there is something wrong in their condition. Good feelings without some warrant of Scripture do not make up a good hope.
It is not enough to have the good opinion of others about the state of our souls. We may be told by others on our death beds, to “keep up our spirits” and “not to be afraid.” We may be reminded that we have “lived good lives or had a good heart or done nobody any harm or not been so bad as many,” and all this time our friends may not bring forward a word of Scripture and may be feeding us on poison. Such friends are miserable comforters. However well meaning, they are downright enemies to our souls. The good opinion of others, without the warrant of God's Word, will never make up a good hope.
If a man would know the soundness of his own hope, let him search and look within his heart for some text or doctrine or fact out of God's book. There will always be some one or more on which your soul hangs, if you are a true child of God. The dying thief in London, who was visited by a City Missionary, and found utterly ignorant of Christianity, laid hold on one single fact in a chapter of St. Luke's Gospel which was read to him and found comfort in it. That fact was the story of the penitent thief. “Sir,” he said, when visited the second time, “Are there any more thieves in that book from which you read yesterday?” The dying Hindu, who was found by a missionary on a roadside, had grasped one single text in the First Epistle of St. John and found in it peace. That text was the precious saying, “The blood of Jesus Christ His Son, cleanseth us from all sin” (1Jo 1:7). This is the experience of all true Christians. Unlearned, humble, poor, as many of them are, they have got hold of something in the Bible, and this causes them to hope. The hope which “maketh not ashamed” is never separate from God's Word.
Men wonder sometimes that ministers press them so strongly to read the Bible. They marvel that we say so much about the importance of preaching and urge them so often to hear sermons. Let them cease to wonder and marvel no more. Our object is to make you acquainted with God's Word. We want you to have a good hope, and we know that a good hope must be drawn from the Scriptures. Without reading or hearing you must live and die in ignorance. Hence we cry, “Search the Scriptures.” “Hear, and your soul shall live” (Joh 5:39; Isa 4:3).
I warn every one to beware of a hope not drawn from Scripture. It is a false hope, and many will find out this to their cost. That glorious and perfect book, the Bible, however men despise it, is the only fountain out of which man's soul can derive peace. Many sneer at the old book while living, who find their need of it when dying. The Queen in her palace and the pauper in the workhouse, the philosopher in his study and the child in the cottage, each and all must be content to seek living water from the Bible, if they are to have any hope at all. Honor your Bible, read your Bible, stick to your Bible. There is not on earth a scrap of solid hope for the other side of the grave which is not drawn out of the Word.
III: In the third place, a good hope is a hope that rests entirely on Jesus Christ. What says St. Paul to Timothy? He says that Jesus Christ “is our hope.” What says he to the Colossians? He speaks of “Christ in you the hope of glory” (1Ti 1:1; Col 1:27).
The man who has a good hope founds all his expectations of pardon and salvation on the mediation and redeeming work of Jesus the Son of God. He knows his own sinfulness; he feels that he is guilty, wicked, and lost by nature: but he sees forgiveness and peace with God offered freely to him through faith in Christ. He accepts the offer: he casts himself with all his sins on Jesus and rests on Him. Jesus and His atonement on the cross, Jesus and His righteousness, Jesus and His finished work, Jesus and His all-prevailing intercession, Jesus and Jesus only is the foundation of the confidence of his soul.
Let us beware of supposing that any hope is good which is not founded on Christ. All other hopes are built on sand. They may look well in the summer time of health and prosperity, but they will fail in the day of sickness and the hour of death. “Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1Co 3:11).
Church membership is no foundation of hope. We may belong to the best of Churches, and yet never belong to Christ. We may fill our pew regularly every Sunday and hear the sermons of orthodox, ordained clergymen, and yet never hear the voice of Jesus or follow Him. If we have nothing better than Church membership to rest upon, we are in a poor plight: we have nothing solid beneath our feet.
Reception of the sacraments is no foundation of hope. We may be washed in the waters of baptism, and yet know nothing of the water of life. We may go to the Lord's Table every Sunday of our lives, and yet never eat Christ's body and drink Christ's blood by faith. Miserable indeed is our condition if we can say nothing more than this! We possess nothing but the outside of Christianity; we are leaning on a reed.
Christ Himself is the only true foundation of a good hope. He is the Rock; His work is perfect. He is the stone, the sure stone, the tried Corner Stone. He is able to bear all the weight that we can lay upon Him. He only that buildeth and “believeth on Him shall not be confounded” (Deu 32:4; Isa 28:16; 1Pe 2:6).
This is the point on which all true saints of God in every age have been entirely agreed. Differing on other matters, they have always been of one mind upon this. Unable to see alike about Church government and discipline and liturgies, they have ever seen alike about the foundation of hope. Not one of them has ever left the world trusting in his own righteousness. Christ has been all their confidence: they have hoped in Him and not been ashamed.
Would any one like to know what kind of death-beds a minister of the Gospel finds comfort in attending? Would you know what closing scenes are cheering to us and leave favorable impressions on our minds? We like to see dying people making much of Christ. So long as they can only talk of “the Almighty” and “Providence” and “God” and “mercy,” we must stand in doubt. Dying in this state, they give no satisfactory sign. Give us the men and women who feel their sins deeply and cling to Jesus, who think much of His dying love, who like to hear of His atoning blood, who return again and again to the story of His cross. These are the death-beds which leave good evidence behind them. For my part I had rather hear the name of Jesus come heartily from a dying relative's lips, than see him die without a word about Christ and then be told by an angel that he was saved.”
IV. In the fourth place, a good hope is a hope that is felt inwardly in the heart. What says St. Paul? He speaks of “hope that maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts.” He speaks of “rejoicing in hope” (Rom 5:5; 12:12).
The man who has a good hope is conscious of it. He feels within him something that another man does not; he is conscious of possessing a well-grounded expectation, of good things to come. This consciousness may vary exceedingly in different persons. In one it may be strong and well-defined; in another it may be feeble and indistinct. It may vary exceedingly in different stages of the same person's experience. At one time he may be full of “joy and peace in believing;” at another he may be depressed and cast down. But in all persons who have a “good hope,” in a greater or less degree, this consciousness does exist.
I am aware that this truth is one which has been fearfully abused and perverted. It has been brought into great disrepute by the fanaticism, enthusiasm, and extravagance of some professing Christians. Mere animal[3] excitement has been mistaken for the work of the Holy Ghost. The overwrought feelings of weak and nervous people have been prematurely and rashly supposed to be the result of grace. Men and women have been hastily pronounced “converted,” who have soon gone back to the world and proved utterly “unconverted” and dead in sins. And then has come in the devil. Contempt has been poured on religious feelings of every description: their very existence has been denied and scouted[4]; and the result is that the very name of “feelings” in religion is in many quarters dreaded and disliked.
But the abuse and perversion of a truth must never be allowed to rob us of the use of it. When all has been said that can be said against fanaticism and enthusiasm, it is still undeniable that religious feelings are plainly spoken of and described in Scripture. The Word of God tells us that the true Christian has “peace” and “rest” and “joy” and “confidence.” It tells us of some who have the “witness of the Spirit,” of some who “fear no evil,” of some who enjoy “assurance,” of some who “know whom they have believed,” of some who “are persuaded that they shall never be separated from the love of God in Christ.” These are the feelings for which I contend: this is that sober, inward experience in which I see nothing extravagant, enthusiastic, or fanatical. Of such feelings I say boldly, no man need be ashamed. I go further and say that no man has a “good hope” who does not know something, however faintly, of these feelings in his own heart. I go further still and say that to hold any other doctrine is to cast dishonor on the whole work of the Holy Ghost.
Will any one tell us that God ever intended a true Christian to have no inward consciousness of his own Christianity? Will any one say that the Bible teaches that people can pass from death to life, be pardoned, renewed, and sanctified, and yet feel nothing of this mighty change within? Let those think it who will: I can hold no such doctrine. I would as soon believe that Lazarus did not know that he was raised from the grave, or Bartimeus that he was restored to sight, as believe that a man cannot feel within him the Spirit of God.
Can a weary man lie down in bed and not feel rested? Can the parched traveler in an African desert drink water and not feel refreshed? Can the starved sailor, in Arctic regions, draw near to the fire and not feel warmed? Can the half naked, hungry, homeless wanderer in our streets be clothed, fed, and housed, and not feel comforted? Can the fainting sick man receive the healing cordial[5] and not feel revived? I cannot believe it. I believe that in each case something will be felt. Just so I cannot believe that a man can be a true Christian if he does not feel something within. A new birth, a pardon of sins, a conscience sprinkled with Christ's blood, an indwelling of the Holy Ghost, are no such small matters as men seem to suppose. He that knows anything of them will feel them there will be a real, distinct witness in his inward man.
Let us beware of a hope that is not felt and a Christianity that is destitute of any inward experience. They are idols of the present day, idols before which thousands are bowing down. Thousands are trying to persuade themselves that people may be born again and have the Spirit, and yet not be sensible of it; or that people may be members of Christ and receive benefit from Him, who have neither faith nor love towards His name. These are the favorite doctrines of modern days! These be the gods which have taken the place of Diana and Mercury and “the image which fell down from Jupiter!”[6] These be the last new deities invented by poor, weak, idolatrous man! From all such idols let us keep ourselves with jealous care. Golden as their heads may be, their feet are no better than clay. They cannot stand: they must sooner or later break down. Miserable indeed are the prospects of those who worship them! Their hope is not the hope of the Bible: it is the hope of a dead corpse. Where Christ and the Spirit are, Their presence will be felt!
Can any one in his senses suppose that the apostle Paul would have been content with Christians who knew nothing of inward feelings? Can we fancy that mighty man of God sanctioning a religion which a person might have, and yet experience nothing within? Can we picture to ourselves a member of one of the Churches he founded, who was utterly unacquainted with peace or joy or confidence towards God and was yet approved by the great apostle of the Gentiles as a true believer? Away with the idea! It will not bear reflection for a moment. The testimony of Scripture is plain and explicit. Talk as men will about enthusiasm and excitement, there are such things as feelings in religion. The Christian who knows nothing of them is not yet converted and has everything to learn. The cold marble of a Grecian statue may well be unimpassioned[7]. The dried mummy from Egypt may well look stiff and still. The stuffed beast in a museum may well be motionless and cold. They are all lifeless things. But where there is life, there will always be some feeling. The “good hope” is a hope that can be felt.
V. In the last place, a good hope is a hope that is manifested outwardly in the life. Once more, what saith the Scripture? “Every one that hath this hope in Him purifieth himself, even as He is pure” (1Jo 3:3).
The man that has a good hope will show it in all his ways. It will influence his life, his character, and his daily conduct; it will make him strive to be a holy, godly, conscientious, spiritual man. He will feel under a constant obligation to serve and please Him from whom his hope comes. He will say to himself, “What shall I render to the Lord for all His benefits to me?” He will feel, “I am bought with a price: let me glorify God with body and spirit, which are His.” “Let me show forth the praises of Him who hath called me out of darkness into His marvelous light.” Let me prove that I am Christ's friend, “by keeping His commandments” (Psa 116:12; 1Co 6:20; 1Pe 2:9; Joh 14:14).
This is a point which has been of infinite importance in every age of the Church. It is a truth which is always assailed by Satan and needs guarding with jealous care. Let us grasp it firmly and make it a settled principle in our religion. If there is light in a house, it will shine through the windows: if there is any real hope in a man's soul it will be seen in his ways. Show me your hope in your life and daily behavior. Where is it? Wherein does it appear? If you cannot show it, you may be sure it is nothing better than a delusion and a snare.
The times demand a very distinct testimony from all ministers on this subject. The truth on this point requires very plain speaking. Let us settle it in our minds deeply and beware of letting it go. Let no man deceive us with vain words. “He that doeth righteousness is righteous.” “He that saith he abideth in Him, ought himself also so to walk, even as He walked” (1Jo 2:6; 3:7). The hope that does not make a man honest, honorable, truthful, sober, diligent, unselfish, loving, meek, kind, and faithful in all the relations of life is not from above. It is only “the talk of the lips which tendeth to penury[8].” “He that boasteth himself of a false gift, is like clouds and wind without rain” (Pro 14:23; 25:14).
(a) There are some in the present day who flatter themselves they have a good hope because they possess religious knowledge. They are acquainted with the letter of their Bibles; they can argue and dispute about points of doctrine; they can quote texts by the score in defense of their own theological opinions. They are perfect Benjamites in controversy: they can “sling stones at an hair-breadth, and not miss” (Jdg 20:16). And yet they have no fruits of the Spirit, no charity, no meekness, no gentleness, no humility, nothing of the mind that was in Christ. And have these people a hope? Let those believe it who will, I dare not say so. I hold with St. Paul, “Though a man speak with the tongues of men and angels, and have not charity, he is become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though a man has the gift of prophecy, and understands all mysteries, and all knowledge, and has not charity, he is nothing.” Yes: hope without charity is no hope at all (1Co 13: 1-3).
(b) There are some again who presume to think they have a good hope because of God's everlasting election. They boldly persuade themselves that they were once called and chosen of God to salvation. They take it for granted that there was once a real work of the Spirit on their hearts, and that all therefore must be well. They look down upon others, who are afraid of professing as much as they do. They seem to think, “We are the people of God, we are the temple of the Lord, we are the favored servants of the Most High, we are they that shall reign in heaven and none beside.” And yet these very people can lie and cheat and swindle and be dishonorable! Some of them can even get drunk in private and secretly commit sins of which it is a shame to speak! And have they a good hope? God forbid that I should say so! The election which is not “unto sanctification” is not of God, but of the devil. The hope that does not make a man holy is no hope at all.
(c) There are some in this day who fancy they have a good hope because they like hearing the Gospel. They are fond of hearing good sermons. They will go miles to listen to some favorite preacher and will even weep and be much affected by his words. To see them in church one would think, “Surely these are the disciples of Christ, surely these are excellent Christians!” And yet these very people can plunge into every folly and gaiety of the world. Night after night they can go with their whole heart to the opera, the theatre, or the ball. They are to be seen on the race-course. They are forward in every worldly revel[9]. Their voice on Sunday is the voice of Jacob, but their hands on week days are the hands of Esau. And have these people a good hope? I dare not say so. “The friendship of the world is enmity with God” (Jam 4:4). The hope that does not prevent conformity to the world is no hope at all. “Whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world” (1Jo 5:4).
Let us beware of any hope that does not exercise a sanctifying influence over our hearts, lives, tastes, conduct, and conversation. It is a hope that never came down from above. It is mere base metal and counterfeit coin. It lacks the mint-stamp of the Holy Ghost and will never pass current[10] in heaven. The man that has a real hope, no doubt, may be overtaken in a fault. He may stumble occasionally in his practice and be drawn aside from the right path for a while. But the man that can allow himself in any willful and habitual breach of God's law is rotten at the heart. He may talk of his hope as much as he pleases, but he has none in reality. His religion is a joy to the devil, a stumbling block to the world, a sorrow to true Christians, and an offence to God. Oh, that men would consider these things! Oh, that many would use some such prayer as this, “From antinomianism[11] and hypocrisy, good Lord, deliver me!”
I have now done what I proposed to do. I have shown the five leading marks of a sound good hope. (1) It is a hope that a man can explain. (2) It is a hope that is drawn from Scripture. (3) It is a hope that is founded on Christ. (4) It is a hope that is felt within the heart. (5) It is a hope that is manifested outwardly in the life. Such, I firmly believe is the hope of all true Christians, of every name and Church and denomination and people and tongue. Such is the hope that we must have, if we mean to go to heaven. Such is the hope without which, I firmly believe, no man can be saved. Such is “the good hope through grace.”
—From Our Hope which is available as a small booklet from Chapel Library.
J.C. Ryle: (1816-1900) Bishop of the Anglican Church. Revered author of Holiness, Knots Untied, Old Paths, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels, and others. Born at Macclesfield, Cheshire County, England.
[1] turn off – divert; deflect.
[2] home-thrust – a well directed or effective thrust, which wounds in a vital part.
[3] animal – of or relating to the senses; the physical as distinct from the spiritual aspect of people.
[4] scouted – sneered out; treated with contempt.
[5] cordial – a tonic that raises the spirits and gives cheerfulness to those who are weaken and depressed.
[6] Acts 19:35
[7] unimpassioned – completely lacking of emotional influence.
[8] penury – extreme lack or poverty.
[9] revel – a wild party or boisterous festivity.
[10] pass current – pass for truth.
[11] antinomianism – from the Greek anti, “against”; nomos, “law.” The teaching that in the gospel age the Law of God is of no use or obligation to Christians. Antinomians often reject the notion of obedience as legalistic.