The faith that I love the best, says God, is hope.
Faith doesn’t surprise me.
It’s not surprising.
I am so resplendent in my creation.
In the sun and the moon and in the stars.
In all of my creatures.
In the stars of the firmament and in the fish of the sea.
In the universe of my creatures.
Upon the face of the earth and upon the face of the waters.
In the movements of the stars in heaven.
In the wind that blows upon the sea and in the wind that blows in the valley.
In the peaceful valley.
In the hushed and hidden valley.
In the plants and in the beasts and in the beasts of the forest.
And in man.
My creature.
In peoples and in men and in kings and in peoples.
In man and in woman his companion.
And especially in children.
My creatures.
In the gaze and in the voice of children.
Because children are more my creatures.
Than men are.
They haven’t yet been defeated by life.
On earth.
And of them all they are my servants.
Above all.
And the voice of children is purer than the voice of the wind in the calm of the valley.
In the hushed and hidden valley.
And the gaze of children is purer than the blue of the sky, than the milky sky, and than a star’s rays in
the peaceful night.
Yes, I am so resplendent in my creation.
Upon the face of the mountains and on the face of the plains.
In bread and in wine and in the man who tills and in the man who sows and in the harvest of grain
and in the harvest of grapes.
In the light and in the darkness.
And in the heart of man, which is what is most profound in the world.
The created world.
So profound it is impenetrable to all eyes.
Except my own.
In the tempest that rocks the waves and in the tempest that shakes the leaves.
The leaves of the trees in the forest.
And conversely in the calm of a beautiful evening.
In the sands of the sea and in the stars that are grains of sand in the sky.
In the stone of the threshold and in the stone of the hearth and in the stone of the altar.
In prayer and in sacraments.
In men’s houses and in the church that is my house on earth.
In my creature the eagle who flies upon the peaks.
The kingly eagle who has a wingspan of at least two meters and sometimes three.
And in my creature the ant who creeps and who hoards pettily.
In the ground.
In the ant, my servant.
And even in the serpent.
In my servant the ant, my tiny servant, who hoards greedily like a miser.
Who works like one unhappy and who has no break and who has no rest.
But death and but the long sleep of winter.
shrugging his shoulders from so much evidence.
before so much evidence.
I am so resplendent in all of my creation.
In the tiny one, in my tiny creature, in my tiny servant, in the tiny ant.
Who hoards greedily, like man.
Like tiny man.
And who digs tunnels in the dirt.
In the cellars of the earth.
For stingily gathering his treasures.
His worldly treasures.
Pitifully.
And even in the serpent.
Who tricked the woman and who for that crawls on his belly.
And who is my creature and who is my servant.
The serpent who tricked the woman.
My servant.
Who tricked man my servant.
I am so resplendent in my creation.
In all that happens to men and to peoples, and to the poor.
And even to the rich.
Who don’t want to be my creatures.
And who take refuge.
From being my servants.
In all the good and evil that man has done and undone.
(And I am above it all, because I am the master, and I do what he has undone and I undo what he has
done.)
And unto the temptation to sin.
Even.
And in all that happened to my son.
Because of man.
My creature.
Whom I had created.
In the conception, in the birth and in the life and in the death of my son.
And in the holy sacrifice of Mass.
In every birth and in every life.
And in every death.
And in eternal life that will never end.
That will overcome all death.
I am so resplendent in my creation.
That in order really not to see me these poor people would have to be blind.
Charity, says God, that doesn’t surprise me.
It’s not surprising.
These poor creatures are so miserable that unless they had a heart of stone, how could they not have
love for each other.
How could they not love their brothers.
How could they not take the bread from their own mouth, their daily bread, in order to give it to
the unhappy children who pass by.
And my son had such a love for them.
My son their brother.
Such a great love.
But hope, says God, that is something that surprises me.
Even me.
That is surprising.
That these poor children see how things are going and believe that tomorrow things will go better.
That they see how things are going today and believe that they will go better tomorrow morning.
That is surprising and it’s by far the greatest marvel of our grace.
And I’m surprised by it myself.
And my grace must indeed be an incredible force.
And must flow freely and like an inexhaustible river.
Since the first time it flowed and since it has forever been flowing.
In my natural and supernatural creation.
In my spiritual and carnal and yet spiritual creation.
In my eternal and temporal and yet eternal creation.
Mortal and immortal.
And that time, oh that time, since that time that it flowed like a river of blood, from the pierced side
of my son.
What must my grace, and the strength of my grace, be so that this little hope, vacillating at the
breath of sin, trembling with every wind, anxious at the slightest breath, be as constant, remain
as faithful, as righteous, as pure; and invincible, and immortal, and impossible to extinguish; as
that little flame in the sanctuary.
That burns eternally, in the faithful lamp.
One trembling flame has endured the weight of worlds.
One vacillating flame has endured the weight of time.
One anxious flame has endured the weight of nights.
Since the first time my grace flowed for the creation of the world.
Since my grace has been flowing forever for the preservation of the world.
Since the time that the blood of my son flowed for the salvation of the world.
A flame impossible to reach, impossible to extinguish with the breath of death.
What surprises me, says God, is hope.
And I can’t get over it.
This little hope who seems like nothing at all.
This little girl hope.
Immortal.
Because my three virtues, says God.
The three virtues, my creatures.
My daughters, my children.
Are themselves like my other creatures.
Of the race of men.
Faith is a loyal Wife.
Charity is a Mother.
An ardent mother, noble-hearted.
Or an older sister who is like a mother.
Hope is a little girl, nothing at all.
Who came into the world on Christmas day just this past year.
Who is still playing with her snowman.
With her German fir trees painted with frost.
And with her ox and her ass made of German wood. Painted.
And with her manger stuffed with straw that the animals don’t eat.
Because they’re made of wood.
And yet it’s this little girl who will endure worlds.
This little girl, nothing at all.
She alone, carrying the others, who will cross worlds past.
As the star guided the three kings from the deepest Orient.
Toward the cradle of my son.
Like a trembling flame.
She alone will guide the Virtues and Worlds.
One flame will pierce the eternal shadows.
The priest says.
Minister of God, the priest says:
What are the three theological virtues?
The child responds:
The three theological virtues are Faith, Hope, and Charity.
- Why are Faith, Hope, and Charity called theological virtues?
- Faith, Hope, and Charity are called theological virtues because they relate immediately to God.
- What is Hope?
- Hope is the supernatural virtue by which we await God with confidence, His grace in this world and eternal glory in the next.
- Make an act of Hope.
- My God, I hope, with a firm confidence, that You will give me, by the merits of Jesus Christ, Your grace in this
world, and, if I observe Your commandments, Your glory in the next, because You have promised it to me, and
because You are supremely faithful in Your promises.
We too often forget, my child, that hope is a virtue, that it is a theological virtue, and that of all the
virtues, and of the three theological virtues, it is perhaps the most pleasing to God.
That it is assuredly the most difficult, that it is perhaps the only difficult one, and that it is
undoubtedly the most pleasing to God.
Faith is obvious. Faith can walk on its own. To believe you just have to let yourself go, you just need
to look around. In order not to believe, you would have to do violence to yourself, frustrate
yourself. Harden yourself. Run yourself backwards, turn yourself inside-out, thwart yourself.
Faith is completely natural, easy-going, simple, easy-coming. Very easy-coming. Very easy-going.
It’s a woman that everyone knows, a nice old lady, a nice old parishioner, a nice woman from the
parish, an old grandmother. She tells stories about the old days, what happened in the old days.
In order not to believe, my child, you would have to shut your eyes and plug your ears. In order not
to see, not to believe.
Unfortunately Charity is obvious. Charity can walk on its own. To love your neighbor you just have
to let yourself go, you just have to look around at all the distress. In order not to love you would
have to do violence to yourself, torture yourself, torment yourself, frustrate yourself. Harden
yourself. Hurt yourself. Distort yourself. Run yourself backwards, turn yourself inside-out.
Thwart yourself. Charity is completely natural, simple, overflowing, very easy-coming. It’s the
first movement of the heart. And the first movement is the right one. Charity is a mother and a
sister.
In order not to love your neighbor, my child, you would have to shut your eyes and plug your ears.
To so many cries of distress.
But hope is not obvious. Hope does not come on its own.
To hope, my child, you would have to be quite fortunate, to have obtained, received a great grace.
It’s faith that is easy and not believing that would be impossible. It’s charity that is easy and not
loving that would be impossible.
But it’s hoping that is difficult.
ashamedly in a low voice.
And the easy thing and the tendency is to despair and that’s the great temptation.
*From Charles Péguy,
The Portal of the Mystery of Hope, translated by David Louis Schindler, Jr. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), 3-10. Available for purchase at Eighth Day Books.
