Our last best hope

Wittingly or not, I have been an eyewitness to horrendous sufferings, dreadful failures and unspeakable heartbreaks. There have been times when I was faced with difficult questions and puzzling experiences, when reality seemed elusive even as it unfolded before me.

As I grew older, I gradually realized that in this world of shared experiences, there is no guarantee of an easy and undisturbed existence. In a world where innocent people become victims of violence and injustice and the terror of uncertainty is part of day-to-day life, where existence is constantly girded with vulnerability and disappointment, we can aptly ask: “Can we still call this life, life? In a world torn by hatred, fear, famine, wars, illnesses and tragic deaths, can we really affirm that life is meaningful?”

In my study of philosophy, there have been times when I would find myself heartbroken because no matter how I would try to lighten up a personal experience of confusion and restlessness, I would always end up seeing my limitations and inadequacies. But most heartrending is that no matter how I try to fill in what’s lacking, this feeling of insecurity and insufficiency keeps on haunting me. Thus I have come to realize that as reality unfolds before me, all I can do is to remain silent. There are times, when awed by a lot of doubts and fears, I could not help but to settle in silence, wondering about, and yielding to, the questions engulfing me.

Each time I go to depressed areas and see people whose conditions cry for help, I would be confronted by questions like, “Is there really something worthwhile out there that awaits us?” When the experiences become so complex to accept and understand, I would ask, “What is the most human thing to do?”

In the 20th century, a French philosopher by the name of Gabriel Marcel, from his most profound reflections on reality, arrived at a conclusion as to how a person might recognize, accept and thrive through all life’s trials. Marcel who, at a very young age lost his mother and endured the loneliness of having no siblings and an emotionally distant father, emerged from World War I sort of traumatized from his experiences in helping victims of oppression; in 1947, he survived the pain of losing the love of his life, Jacqueline. From the “scrapes and bruises” he suffered in life, Marcel must have seen something far deeper than one’s experience of feeling helpless. Most probably they also made Marcel realize how every human being should respond to life’s debacles.

Marcel explicitly argued that neither the light of hope nor the darkness of despair could be denied in this life. Yet Marcel, in recognizing the essence of our human condition did not encourage masochism. Instead, he underscored that the condition of our existence digs up that potential buried underneath our very being. Only when we accept that there is a vast reservoir of hope deep within us can we truly see what Marcel tried to convey. For Marcel believed that hope can be the only, most human response to one’s experience of failure, inadequacy or even despair. At any rate, a person who hopes will eventually realize the invaluable role of the community and of the Supreme Being, the source and apex of all hope, in one’s life.

And our constant struggle to endure life’s misfortunes points us to a much greater reality—that human existence is framed in finitude and temporality, whose mark is imbedded in human existence and directs us to live not in the futility of despair but in the fruitfulness of hope. Yes, our life often disappoints because some events transpire the way we do not expect and want them to. Nevertheless, Marcel insisted that it is not life itself which makes us despair in our experience of darkness. In his view, to hope or not to hope (despair) is a human choice.

The paradox of Marcel’s view of existence as imprisonment is his claim that “the soul has existence through hope alone; perhaps hope is a stuff of which the soul is made.” The tapestry of human life is not only fabricated in finitude and temporality but also in hope. Human finitude and temporality do not define life as meaningless. In a deeper sense, embracing our finite and temporal lives enthuses us to hope. Hence, our experience of failure is a reflection of our limitations as a human person, but in a larger scale, this experience of inadequacy draws us to the realization that the most human act is to hope and to remain hopeful especially in times when it seems that there is nothing to hope for.

In the course of one’s quest for light, one will awaken to a consciousness that to hope is a universal human call. For it is in hope from which intimacy with oneself springs, from which a person is led to a realization that he is definitely in need of others in order to face the incessant onslaught of unpleasant experiences. It is in hope where one is directed to act, realizing his finite existence does not make him powerless. It is in hope where no human effort to liberate the world from the grip of darkness is too little. It is in hope where one is able to see that life is a worthy choice despite its bitter facets. Hence, it is in hope where one meets the Infinite because it is only in hope where he is permitted to experience eternity through absolute confidence in God.

Yes, hope might appear to be nonsensical to some but, as human beings, we have to continue living out this hope because if we don’t, humanity is lost and life itself would be dead. The moment we give up or suspend our hope in hope, we are actually admitting that everything is absurd and our life means nothing and is without purpose. In this world where human life is constantly torn by misery and emptiness, our deepest consolation is the reality that we are capable of hoping and thus no matter how unpleasant our experiences are, this faculty to hope can never be lost.

Perhaps, we can start our vocation to ease human sufferings by unearthing that hope from deep within us. For at the end of the day, part of our response to the call of becoming who we really are as persons is to hope—to hope with everything we have because hope, aside from being the best human response, is one of the best things we have and, most of all, is our last best hope.

Kenjie I. Cortez, 20, is a graduating philosophy student at Mother of Good Counsel Seminary in San Fernando City, Pampanga.