Hope As an Anchor of Our Souls | Alan R. Harker | 2016

Alan R. Harker speaks about the power of hope as an anchor for our souls, especially in the times of our greatest suffering.

Alan R. Harker was associate academic vice president for Research and Graduate Studies at Brigham Young University when he gave this devotional on 7 June 2016.

Read the speech here:
https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/alan-r...

Read more on overcoming adversity here:
https://speeches.byu.edu/collections/...

Subscribe to BYU Speeches for the latest videos:    / @byuspeeches  

Read and listen to more BYU Speeches here:
https://speeches.byu.edu/

Follow BYU Speeches:
Facebook:   / byuspeeches  
Twitter:   / byuspeeches  
Instagram:   / byuspeeches  
Pinterest:   / byuspeeches  

© Brigham Young University. All rights reserved.

"I would like to share one personal observation: I have been associated with seven different universities over the course of my career. In my experience, there is nothing even remotely similar at any of those other institutions to what we are doing here today. It is remarkable what we do here each Tuesday morning. We share our testimonies and we share our experiences, and I am grateful for what I have learned from all of you as I have attended devotionals over the last twenty-two years.

What I add today to that library of devotional wisdom is not new. I am acutely aware that I am merely revisiting truths that have been taught by many others with different words, by different means, and through different personal experiences.

The seed for my thoughts today was planted more than a year ago as a successful family reunion came to an end. Even though our children are all grown, as their parents we feel some misplaced obligation to be on the last flight out and to see them all off safely. This usually gives my wife and me some extra time to visit more adult attractions while waiting for a later flight. Our preference seems to be for art museums.

On this occasion we chose a museum not too far from the airport, in which one of the traveling exhibits happened to be of sixteenth-century engravings. My general lack of enthusiasm or appreciation, probably brought on by equal measures of ignorance and fatigue, was tempered by the observation of a theme throughout many of the engravings. Series after series of engravings depicted the seven virtues and the seven deadly sins. Almost all contained precisely the same compositional elements derived from scripture.

And here is the seed that was planted: a representation of hope in many of the engravings. There were commonalities in all of these portrayals of hope: There was always a young woman looking longingly toward heaven, perhaps envisioning a brighter future in this life or in the next. There was always the symbolism of the anchor, which is referred to in scripture in numerous places, but none so directly as in Hebrews 6:19: “Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast.”

I have always been curious about hope and how we obtain it. It is something we all desire. In scripture it is always sandwiched between faith and charity. What is this hope, how does it act as an anchor of our souls, and how do we obtain this hope that we all seem to so desire? I will endeavor to address, if not answer, some of those questions today.

I wish to dismiss rather quickly two worldly notions regarding both hope and anchors. Hope in the scriptural sense is not wishing. We use the word hope far too often in that shallow context and thereby confuse ourselves into believing that hope is a transitory state that can be achieved in times of duress through mere desire or anxious longing. This is not the hope that is “both sure and stedfast.”

Just as hope is not the same as wishing, neither are anchors dead weight meant to slow us down or impede our progress. The proper use of an anchor is paramount to safety on the water. Having hoisted a few anchors myself, I can fully appreciate that one of the young ladies in an engraving depicting hope, although still gazing into heaven—perhaps waiting for that elusive answer to that last final exam ­question—had chosen to use the anchor for support rather than to hold it forever.

In October 2000 my wife and I and two of our three children were living in Christchurch, New Zealand. BYU had provided us with a generous development leave, and we had made our home in a quaint bungalow—quaint meaning old, cold, drafty, and damp—adjacent to the University of Canterbury, where I was working with a colleague who was to become a good friend."
–Alan R. Harker