“Hope”, by José Cruz
Hope Chapel, May 9, 2010
Notes by Joe & Neisha Hootman
Lesson:
Hope grows from being in the Word and in being in relationship with God and one another through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Text:
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13, NIV)
Icebreaker:
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"Hope" is the thing with feathers —
That perches in the soul —
And sings the tune without the words —
And never stops — at all —
(full poem)
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Jose read from Dan Davis’s email (attached as appendix) which quoted Emily Dickenson’s poem describing the healthy soul as having something external living within whose job was to inject hope into it. The first stanza goes:
Proginoskes (the Cherubim from Madeline L’Engle’s
Wind in the Door) by Rachel Tamar Wholstadter
Why does hope have to come from outside the soul to be placed within it? Why can’t the soul just generate its own hope? At what times in your life have you needed a Word from outside yourself to pull yourself out of despair? How would you have heard the admonition to “pull it together” or “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps”?
Why is it important to the soul that the “thing with feathers” is constantly singing (“never stops – at all –“)? What would happen to the soul if it were to go away or die (as Dan described it)?
Background:
Before the Cruz family’s departure, José offered a benediction for Hope Chapel organized around Romans 15:13’s theme of growing in hope.
Hope is one of the works of the Holy Spirit, as seen where the Greek term for hope is found in two miracles recorded in the book of Acts we’ve started hearing together on Sundays (16:19 during the slave’ girl’s exorcism and 27:20 after Paul’s shipwreck). God continues to work miracles of hope today through examples like Dan Davis’ deliverance, the rescue of Nadia (the girl with Asperger’s Syndrome lost in the Florida swamp), and the living words offered by strangers on airplanes and members of small groups.
We grow in hope by being in God’s Word recorded in Scripture because it is so closely tied with Christ himself that the two cannot be separated. “The Word was with God and the Word was God.” (John 1:1). Jose exhorted the congregation to keep a regular quiet time.
We also grow in hope by being in relationship with God through one another. José referenced Romans 15:17, “accept one another, then, just as Christ has accepted you” (NIV). He told stories about his remarkable seatmate on the way to Guatemala and the Littlefields’ small group.
Digging Deeper:
What does the biblical notion of hope imply about a timeline? José talked about the birth of Isaac to Abraham and Sarah after 90 years of fallowness and Moses’ hope for the Promised Land (seen, but not experienced) after 40 years of wandering in the wilderness.
What do you hope for now that may not happen for years in the future or that you may not even live to see? What do you think your great-grandparents hoped God would do with and for you?
When you have undertaken a new venture (a relationship, a business, a project), you did so with a risky expectation that something positive could blossom from it. While a baby bird is growing inside its egg, it draws strength by feeding off the yolk which nourishes it until the shell breaks, and it enters the world that has been promised to it. Tell the group about some of the “yolks” that you have drawn on during the painful early stages of a new venture.
As you grow in experience, you recognize that yolks from new ventures have limits, and that some eggs hatch and some don’t. How do your experiences with inevitable disappointments shape the demands your heart makes for something more powerful to sustain you through hard times?
The Bible sets hope in direct opposition to immediate sight or experience (the chain of hope in Romans 5:1-5 begins with suffering). What are you hoping God will do that doesn’t fit your present circumstances? What do you hope will change?
How does the experience of suffering shape the eventual taste of hope’s resolution on your tongue? Do you savor a cool rainstorm differently in February than at the end of a sweltering August? While one should never, never welcome suffering, how can God redeem the suffering that evil causes to produce a deeper glory for Himself?
What would it mean to be a debt-loaded farmer on a piercing hot July noon, hoping for rain and knowing it will come, but not knowing if you would be able to make it long enough to see it happen?
Why is the Spirit’s gift of hope so critical for the work that the Cruz’s (and Hope Chapel) are doing in Turkey? Why do you think this concept dwells so heavily in José and Betsy’s hearts as Jesus prepares them to return there?
Wrap-Up
Pray for hope for the church in Turkey, specifically the city of Izmir where the Cruz’s are ministering.
Outreach/Mission
One of José’s statements which received the biggest congregational “amen” was that “relationships are the hardest things in life”. Which relationship is the hardest one for you right now? If comfortable, tell the group about one and pray that the Holy Spirit would bring hope both to you and the other party(ies), so that you both come to dwell more deeply in Christ.
Excerpts from Dan Davis’ email to Jose Cruz about the origins of Hope Chapel:
From: Daniel Davis
To: José Cruz
Sent: Wed, 5/5/10 4:45PM
Dear Jose,
….
Hope has had an extraordinary importance to me since the year 1971 when we lived in Scottsdale, AZ. It began with a series of fairly traumatic events starting with a major encounter with the Holy Spirit in January. Despite my Pentecostal heritage, it really was my first true encounter with the filling of the Holy Spirit. One would think that would have been a beginning of a glorious new season for me. Instead, quite the opposite happened. The analogy for me is of Jesus’ water baptism when the Holy Spirit descended upon Him initiating His ministry. What happened then? He was driven out into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit, there to be sorely tempted by the devil. The focus of the enemy’s attack centered on denying Jesus’ true identity … “If you are … do this, etc.” [ed. lit.]
Immediately following my encounter, I got a case of the mumps causing my hearing loss. Doctors say that when you lose a vital sense, there is a tendency to experience depression. Then I had to put my much loved father in a nursing home. There’s a sense in which I lost my identity during that time, evidenced most profoundly by the loss of all hope. There is nothing worse that I know of, than to lose hope. Hope is the rescue line that draws you out of your pain and despair. A poet, Emily Dickenson has a line in one of her poems that says, “hope is the little bird that sings in your soul.” (ed., link) My little bird had died.
During May, June, and July, I sank deeper and deeper into despair, finally being hospitalized for severe depression. During that week in the hospital, I had a vision of the Lord Jesus! He said nothing to me, but I saw something of His glory, His beauty, His joy, His power, and His authority! I was the only one who spoke during the vision saying, “Lord, I’ve tried it my way and it hasn’t worked. I’ll try it your way.”
Hope was not only reborn in my soul, but it ignited a flame of hope for me. I knew from that time onward that hope would never disappoint and I’ve clung to that certainty ever since.
One of my friends from back in the early 1960s was then a young pastor named Ralph Moore who planted a church in Southern California named Hope Chapel. So actually we stole the name from him. He went on to start a whole movement of Hope Chapels located primarily on the west coast.
Before settling on the name, I thought that I ought to know more of the origin of the word “chapel.” It turns out that it was derived from a French word for coat. There was a saint in the early church history of France who was greatly honored by his concern for the poor, the sick, and the cold. During a severely cold season, he obeyed the directive in the Sermon on the Mount saying if someone asks for your coat, give him your cloak also. That saint (I can’t remember his name offhand [ed., Martin of Tours, 316-397]) gave his only coat to a sick man saving his life during a bitterly cold season. After the saint’s death, the people of the village built a small building to house his coat as a memorial to the love he displayed. The called that building a chapel. Subsequently the name “chapel” was given to small, warm churches focusing on celebrating community, love, and generosity.
Of course, over time these meanings grew dim and “chapel” lost its original meaning … [ed. lit.] but not for me. |
