"The same God who directs the earth in its orbit, who feeds the burning furnace of the sun, and trims the lamps of heaven—has promised to supply you with daily strength! While He is able to uphold the universe—do not dream that He will prove unable to fulfill His own promises." --Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening
How do I dislike Ted Mosby? Let me count the ways...
How I met Your Mother is one of my very favorite shows. Given all of its flaws, that's saying something. It was a basic reboot of the show Friends, written for the next generation, dragged on for too many seasons, and ended in one of the most awful ways imaginable. But I still love it. It's hilarious. The characters are imperfect, and therefore the audience can tangibly learn from them. The jokes are off kilter and animated. Everyone should slightly strive to be the relationship that is Marshall and Lily. Each character evolves in their own way. Every episode has some sort of stoic message that is usable by the twenty and thirty somethings out there. The ones who need to be aware of how ok it is not to have it all together. How I love this show. I could watch reruns for decades.
But oh, the distaste I have for Ted.
He is probably fine in his own right. But the character's idiosyncrasies violently rub me the wrong way. If I was allowed one opportunity to reach through a television set and punch someone in the face, I would choose any episode in which Ted has taken all his character development and just...thrown it out the window. Ted represents every bad mistake we've all made in relationships. He idealizes one person, putting her on a perfectionistic pedestal that she could never reach. He pursues women he has no business being with. He acts on impulse and emotion, when all of his problems could be solved by like...using his head for three seconds. He's broken up two marriages because of his selfishness and idealism, and he doesn't know how to use Teddy Roosevelt trivia properly. Above all of that, beyond the annoyances, there's one aggravating trait he exudes that's just awful. He hopes to an absurd degree. Dude does not know when to give up. The mother of his children dies tragically and he's still hooked on this one lady.
The crap, Ted?!
Ridiculous hope like that is the kind that defies all odds. It literally cannot be extinguished because, logically speaking, a person will eventually meet their end goal if they refuse to quit. They've hit several ends to the story, but they just pick up the pen and keep on writing until they get what they want. In my opinion, Ted lost out by not simply learning to let go. But there's something to ridiculous hope that proves to be worthwhile, somehow. I think of Joseph.
In the beginning, when the Word became flesh, Joseph is assigned a tiny blurb in the book of Matthew. His divine visit is almost a side note, hidden in the first chapter. There's much I don't know about Joseph. Was his faith strong? Did he have high hopes for love? Was he afraid of the future? How well did he know Mary and her family? Aside from obedience, how did he feel about this immaculate conception situation?
It's hard to tell. We know he was a man of faith, immersed in the Jewish culture and on the cusp of married life. We know he was a man of integrity, as he showed careful consideration of Mary while trying to do what he thought was the right thing. We know he was obedient, as he followed the Angel's direction without question or hesitation. Perhaps, as he was making so many new beginnings, he hoped.
Betrothal was something different in those days. Marriage as a result of romantic love is a relatively new concept to the human race. This, conversely, would have been a time where it manifested over the course of decades in a more practical sense of the word. Spouses loved each other, but they did so because they were chosen for each other and believed that love would grow with experience. When Joseph looked to the future, he saw an entirely different vision of wife and child than what was in front of him. In the midst of unsavory circumstances, he was told to wed her anyway and that things would work out in ways he couldn't even imagine. He wasn't told how to feel, only what to do. But he was also told what was going to happen -a savior of worlds and eternities--and in it he was given...well...a ridiculous hope.
You can't make me like Ted Mosby, but you can certainly make the case for Joseph. I'm sure that things were unclear even as the Christ child entered the world and grew in it. He fulfilled the ridiculous hope in ways the were unexpected and humanity had no way of asking for. He did not save the Jews from the Romans, but he healed the sick. He did not stick it to the Samaritans no Gentiles, but He fed the hungry. He didn't leave the world in glamour and blazes of glory, but He took on the most awful death for reasons we couldn't comprehend yet. He fulfilled promises we didn't even know we needed. That's how we know He is so good.
On this Christmas morning, I'm not here to tell the reader that it's all going to work out. There are times when we get a lesson instead of a gift, and it stings something fierce. There are seasons when we are deprived of our longings in the event that He may have something better--but it doesn't make it any less painful. Sometimes Robin doesn't get her happy ending, Barney shows his terrible colors, the mother dies, and the purpose behind it doesn't stop the wound from throbbing. But if there is any comfort in Christ Jesus, it's that He is on our side. When we are trying to understand, His attention is on us. He makes good on His promises, and when the outcome looks bleak then we can persistently rely on His ability to make everything right. We can call on his faithfulness. We can insist that it isn't over. We can hope ridiculously.
We can't let our desires lead the way, for they are fickle. But we can take them with us, as His promises mold them spectacularly. Fear not, sojourner, for He is trustworthy. Hang on to Joseph. Channel a little (only a little) Ted.
Hope to an absurd degree.
