The Opposite of Facts
For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? Romans 8:24 NASB
Is not hope – Suppose I asked you, “What is the opposite of facts?” You might answer, “Fiction.” You would be thinking, “Facts are true. Fiction is not true. Therefore, fiction is the opposite of facts.” That’s how we could categorize things. Fact or fiction. True or false. But that’s not how Paul frames his observation. He uses the opposites “fact” and “hope,” because he focuses on what can be observed. In other words, Paul does not adopt the Greek epistemology of cognition. It’s not about what you think. It’s about what you see, and for Paul, this Hebrew view of knowing means that if you can see something, then it is no longer hope. Now it is reality. True or false, fact of fiction doesn’t enter the picture. You either see it or you don’t. And if you don’t see it, but you still believe it, then you’re in the land of hope.
You might object. “But this means that Paul only hopes God is real. After all, he can’t see God. So, all of Paul’s faith is based on nothing more than hope.” Good objection. Just one small problem. You see, for Paul it isn’t just what he sees. It’s what the people of Israel see. Paul is a Jew and Moshe Kempinski points out that every Jew is “3000 years old.” That is to say, every Jew is the summation of the entire history of Jews. Paul is not the individual, Western, Greek-minded person we think we are. He is the collective identity of his tribe, his people, and his God. He did “see” God at Sinai. He was there in the wilderness. He stood alongside the prophets. He consulted with David. And he spent three years with Yeshua. He “saw.” That isn’t hope. That’s observable reality.
But there is something Paul believes that is not yet an observable event. That is what he calls hope. What is it? It’s the establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth. The return of the King. The Day of Judgment. The end of this age. The consummation of our salvation. The vindication of all that we believe but have not yet observed.
Paul’s Greek term is elpís. For the Greeks, elpís is expectation in the future, whether good or evil. It might provide comfort, but it can also be deceptive, an emotional crutch with a tragic result. The rabbis used this Greek word in a selective sense. It is a common term for messianic hope. Since Paul is greatly influenced by rabbinic thinking, it’s worth noting some of the rabbinic aspects of the term.
Positively this is expectation of the fulfilment of Jewish hopes and negatively it is expectation of judgment on the wicked. The promises belong to the people as a whole; individuals share in them only as members of the people. The basis is that the future belongs to God, but for participation in the promises there must be observance of the law as well as trust in God. The law reveals God’s will, but as a way of life, not a theoretical system. This will does not change with the future aeon. The difference is that the Messiah, who keeps and teaches the law, will extend it to the Gentiles. But the messianic age will come only when Israel itself keeps the law.[1]
Paul stands in this rabbinic tradition concerning the promises. They are real, observable in both the past and the present. Jewish hope in the Messiah is not ungrounded. It is an extension of the reality of God’s people. The Torah is the anchor of this reality. Its very existence is evidence that the Messianic hope is legitimate.
Bultmann’s comment on this passage in Romans is interesting:
Rom. 8:24–25 makes not only the formal point that we do not hope for what is visibly present but also the material one that what is visibly present offers no basis for hope since it belongs to the sphere of the sárx. Hence we have to wait patiently, in hope believing against hope, i.e., unable to count on controllable factors and hence thrown back on God (Rom. 4:18).[2]
Bultmann thinks that Paul distinguishes hope from observation because what is seen is part of the material world, the world of the flesh. But this makes Paul a Platonist. He is not. There is no dualism here, opposing sárx with elpís. Paul understands that observable reality is also God’s handiwork, not a corrupt, evil world that needs to be eliminated. God is at work restoring, not destroying. The Messianic hope is about renewal, not re-creation.
What have we learned? Other than being much more careful about our assumptions, perhaps we’ve learned once again that Hebraic thinking is collective and practical, not individualistic and cognitive. Maybe that makes a difference for reading Paul.
Topical Index: elpís, hope, Romans 8:24
[1] R. Bultmann, in Kittel, G., Friedrich, G., & Bromiley, G. W. (1985). Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (p. 230). Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans.
[2] Ibid.
