Lent 2026 - Reading #41 - Hope
Reading
Saint Ignatius of Loyola offers hope through the lens of radical trust in God's providence. In the Spiritual Exercises, he writes in the Contemplation to Attain Love: "Consider how God dwells in creatures: in the elements giving them existence, in the plants giving them life, in the animals giving them sensation, in man giving him understanding. So He dwells in me and gives me being, life, sensation, and intelligence; and makes a temple of me, since I am created in the likeness and image of the Divine Majesty." Ignatius continues with his famous prayer: "Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all that I have and possess. Thou hast given all to me. To Thee, O Lord, I return it. All is Thine, dispose of it wholly according to Thy will. Give me Thy love and Thy grace, for this is sufficient for me." In this prayer we find the summit of hope: the confidence that God's love and grace are sufficient for every situation, every loss, every trial. Ignatius can surrender everything, liberty, memory, understanding, will, because he trusts absolutely that what God gives in return is infinitely greater than what he relinquishes.
Reflection
Forty-three days of Lent. We are in the final days before Holy Week, and Ignatius brings us to the radical edge of hope: total surrender. Our Lenten pilgrimage has been building to this point, from the careful discernment of prudence to the outward reach of justice, through the backbone of fortitude, the freedom of temperance, the trust of faith, and now the confident self-offering of hope. Ignatius's Suscipe prayer is one of the most extraordinary texts in Christian spirituality. "Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty." Who prays like this? Only someone whose hope is so deeply rooted in God that they can afford to give everything else away. This is not reckless or fatalistic; it is the overflow of a hope that has been tested and proven true. Ignatius, who endured battle wounds, agonizing recovery, spiritual darkness, and the hostility of both civil and religious authorities, speaks from experience: God's love and grace are sufficient. As we prepare for Holy Week, Ignatius invites us to take stock of what we are still holding back. Six weeks of Lent have been loosening our grip, on food, on comfort, on control. Can we now take the next step and open our hands entirely? This is the hope that makes Holy Week's suffering bearable: the trust that in giving everything to God, we receive everything back, transformed. Tomorrow we close our week of hope, and on Monday, the great drama begins. Love is coming.