Begin Here

5472297_lThe Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the word “hope” as, “desire accompanied by expectation of fulfillment.” While all of us have desires, our expectations of fulfilling those desires are not always met – and it’s probably safe to say that most of us have learned how to cope with the occasional disappointment. We say things to ourselves like, “Well, that’s life,” or, “You can’t win them all.” Hopefully, we get back to our feet, dust ourselves off and push forward – because we still have hope.

However . . . if we reach the point where we stop expecting many or most of our desires to ever be fulfilled, disappointment can turn into real hopelessness. If you’ve ever felt this, you already know its devastation . . . its capacity to rob you of any sense of joy or purpose. And life without purpose can feel paralyzing: what’s the point of trying to ‘get back to our feet’ if doing so ultimately serves no purpose? Withdrawal and depression may set in for some while others might seek to escape relentless pain through whatever device seems to work best – often leading to self-destructive addictions. Some even go so far as to deliberately end the one life they have been given – or their addictions end it for them. They never return to us, their earthly potential forever untapped. Do you know someone who has left the world in this manner?

If you’ve ever battled with hopelessness, you’ve probably learned to pay closer attention to your expectations – to examine the premises that you base your expectations upon. If you’ve ever set an expectation based upon a false premise, you probably hoped in vain for that area of your life.

Here’s a personal illustration: (and please forgive its triteness – we’re simply making a point!)

So . . . it wasn't quite as melodramatic as this . . . but you get the idea!

So . . . it wasn’t quite as melodramatic as this . . . but you get the idea!

For our first Christmas together as a married couple, I bought my wife a beautiful, full-length, black winter dress coat. The hood of the coat was ringed with luxurious fur – fox fur, to be precise. As it so happened, my wife’s maiden name was “Fox,” and I had seen her in black before: picturing her in that coat conjured imagery of a mythical winter princess. I knew it would look stunning on her, and looked forward to seeing her face light up on Christmas morning when she first put it on. Well . . . Christmas morning did come, and she did put it on, and she did look stunning – just as I had hoped. But then something completely unexpected happened: she slowly turned and asked, “This isn’t real animal fur, is it?” I had hardly begun to cautiously nod before the coat was removed:  “I’m sorry, but I can’t wear this . . .” 

Where did my “mythical winter princess” go?! I had just been looking into her beautiful eyes . . . during the briefest and most magical of moments . . . and now she was nowhere to be found . . .

If you’ve been married for any length of time, perhaps you can recall a similar ‘disconnect’ with your newly-wed spouse . . . seemingly the best of intentions turning into an occasion for disappointment. (And believe us: we’re aware such disappointments come in much larger sizes than this example!) As I contemplated the error of my ways, I was eventually able to identify the embarrassing (and selfish) false premises that led me to that disappointing moment. My first false premise was that a gift that pleased me would necessarily please the recipient. The second was that my wife gave no thought to animals being bred, raised and killed for their fur. If I had simply known a few more truths about my wife – and about myself — that moment may have turned out differently.

Knowing the truth . . . do you know any sane human being living on the Earth today who claims to perfectly grasp all truth? We’re guessing not: in human hands, it can be a tricky topic. For one thing, our perceptions vary: if we present two people with the same set of evidence, we may see them arrive at opposite conclusions about the “truths” the evidence supports. And it gets even worse: some deny the very existence of absolute truth. Others concede its existence – but declare it cannot be known with certainty. Then there is organized (and not so organized) religion: adherents to different faiths identify with various sources of truth — sometimes with great vehemence. While these religions often have much in common, most of them eventually contradict each other in some mutually-exclusive way: meaning, they cannot all be “truth” at the same time.

If knowing the truth is prerequisite to dispelling hope-crushing false premises . . . and given the state of truth in the world today, is it any wonder that so many struggle with hopelessness?

If truth does not exist or cannot be known, we submit that real hope does not exist – or cannot be known. And for the same reason that I had my hopes needlessly dashed on a not-so-distant Christmas morning, those who live by the false premises of man’s religions will find hope equally elusive. It’s the premises, or a collection of premises — sometimes called a “world view” — that seems to separate the hopeless from the hopeful.

Let’s be clear: you may realize goals. You may achieve notoriety, wealth, influence or material prosperity. You may raise a wonderful family, make dozens of dear and loyal friends and leave behind a legacy that will last for generations. You may experience the joy of realized hopes at various seasons of your life.

But . . . our lives are short — shorter than many of us are willing to admit to ourselves, we fear: you’re going to have to say ‘goodbye’ to it all on your deathbed. What will you be hoping for then?

As you look ahead to the certainty of your death, contemplate the uncertainty of its timing and grasp its finality, do your present worldly successes provide real, lasting hope beyond the expiration of your physical body? Or does your hope end at your grave? Is there a truth that can provide lasting hope beyond the grave?

Does your hope end here?

Does your hope end here?

Have you ever seriously asked yourself these questions? If not, you should – roughly 482 people have left this world, on average, during the time it took you to read to this point on this specific page of this website. (107 people per minute, globally) Chances are, very few of these people woke up this morning knowing it was their last day . . .

What if there was a world view that set aside man’s surmising and religions, and alleged that an omnipotent and omniscient Creator has chosen to reach out to us with the Truth? This world view would claim that the truth – all that is needed for humanity, at least – has been provided to us here on Earth, and has been perfectly preserved for us for all time. This Truth would be so encompassing, so universal and so irrefutable that false premises would simply dissolve before it. Wouldn’t that provide us hope that lasts for all seasons of this life – and beyond this life – real hope?

This world view exists, and – in spite of what you may have already heard of it – is called, “Christianity.” This truth calls itself the “Word of God” – commonly referred to as the Bible. It tells us things like this:

“For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.” (Ro 15:4)

“In hope of eternal life, which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began;” (Tit 1:2)

It tells us that the scriptures – the Word of God – was written “for our learning,” for our “comfort,” and for our “hope.” Hope in what? A life that never ends. Understand what this world view claims: it tells us that we can have expectations for fulfilled desires extending beyond the grave! It tells us that we are more than just the perishing physical body we presently occupy.

Friend, you could be reading these words on your deathbed and lay hold of more hope than the majority of people walking the Earth today. It all comes down to ONE thing: when you open the Bible, do you believe what you’re reading?

Now, let the reader beware: there are many man-made religions which claim the title of “Christianity” – but do not acknowledge the Word of God as this “Truth” we’ve mentioned.  Many religions appear to at least revere it, but stop short of embracing what the Bible claims about itself: that it is infallible, complete and perfectly-preserved.  This inconsistency within “Christianity” causes enormous confusion in the minds of Christians and non-Christians alike — both today, and in millennia past.  Yet if the Word is what it claims to be, these man-made religions are based upon some false premises, and therefore – like so many other human devices — cannot provide us real hope.

We understand that many will not agree with this narrow understanding of God’s Word.  If you’re one of them, please don’t bail-out on us just yet – it’s not “our” understanding, as you will see in the pages just ahead. We also understand that many of you may have arrived at this website with nothing but distain for all things “Christian” – and simply ask that you set aside what you feel you know about the topic for the next few pages.  Just read carefully: we’re going somewhere with this, and don’t want to lose you before we’ve even started!

When we describe the Word of God, it is important to understand the definitions for the words we use — whether you ultimately agree with our message or not:

“Infallible.” The Word of God is flawless, perfect, without contradiction or error of any kind.

“Complete.” The Word is God’s finished revelation to man: understanding Christianity requires no further divine revelation. Nothing can be removed from it or added to it without corrupting it.

“Perfectly-Preserved.” God’s Word is intact today – uncorrupted by the tumultuous events of world history, the deceptions of Satan or the intents of fallible, sinful men.

The premise of this entire web site is that the Word of God is precisely what it claims to be: infallible, complete and perfectly-preserved Truth. The goal is to help build or restore hope – real hope – to any earnestly-seeking visitor. 

And so, with open minds and hearts, let us begin here.