The current state of affairs throughout the Diocese of Burlington and Vermont more generally is pretty grim. An aging and decreasing demographic, shrinking Mass attendance, unfamiliarity with the perennial teachings of the Catholic faith, and growing disassociation of Christianity from its Founder, most noticeably highlighted by the phrase ‘I am spiritual, but not religious’. These disturbing trends, and many others, have coalesced to form an apathetic lukewarmness to the Truth. This is serious, and we are in a dire situation. There is need for hope, but is there any room for hope? I believe so.

 

Every time the Word of God is taught and explained clearly, unequivocally, and passionately, at holy Mass, during OCIA programs, in Catholic schools and parish religious education curriculums, for the purpose of convicting the souls of God’s faithful and building up the Mystical Body of Christ, I am heartened and hopeful.

When the Truth is robustly proclaimed in its fullness, not nuanced or watered down in tepid acquiescence to the modern-day snowflake culture, I am filled with hope. When gentle and prudent correction is given in Charity, to assist in successfully bringing back a straying sheep into the one-fold of Christ, the present is infused with hope.

When, as a professed People of Faith, we desire to and ever more reflect Jesus Christ whose life perfectly matches his mouth, we are anchored in hope.

 

Each time the soul checks its weak, fallible, so very human decision-making process too often directed by the effects of Original Sin, such as unbridled emotion, selfishness, arrogance, or the desire to control, at the door of the Confessional before stepping out of it, hope springs eternal.

When the manner of our life exhibits that we are more concerned with pleasing the Most-High God, rather than everyone or anyone else, hope is again realized.

When reverential silence is kept in our Catholic churches and chapels, in recognition that it is the Sacred dwelling place of the Incarnate Son of God, and I am not the most important person there, hope grows in silence.

At this point, I hope you are still reading this article. If so, I offer a re-writing of Andy Dufresne’s letter to Red from the film The Shawshank Redemption:

 

“Dear faithful: if you’re reading this and seriously considering it, you’ve gotten out, at least for the moment, of the prison of modern-day thinking. And if you’ve come this far, maybe you’re willing to come a little further. You remember the goal, don’t you? Union with God, and everlasting life in the Truth. From the glory of Heaven hear the Most-High God say: ‘I will keep an eye out for you, and a place ready’. Remember my child, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things; and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well. Your friend, Fr. Dodson.”

 

Consider now your own response, which may be a re-written echo of Red’s reflection at the conclusion of the film, outside of prison and enjoying a new life reconciled with Andy:

 

“I find that I’m so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it’s the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it to Heaven. I hope to see my friend and live in union with God. I hope eternal life is more glorious than I have imagined. I hope.”

 

Hope, however, doesn’t erase the current difficult reality that we face; it helps us to navigate it. So:

 

“Although the fig tree blossoms not, nor fruit be on the vines; though the yield of the olive fail, and the terraces produce no nourishment; though the flocks disappear from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet will I rejoice in the Lord and exalt in my saving God. God, my Lord, is my strength; He makes my feet swift as those of Hines and enables me to go upon the heights” (Habakkuk 3:17-19).

 

Let us hope in God, for He does not disappoint. Let us hope in God, for He alone suffices.