In a world so subscribed to cynicism, it’s hard to be anything but a pessimist. Everyone’s glass is always half-empty, and if anyone dares to believe otherwise, the half-emptys descend upon the poor optimist, either relentlessly changing their mind, or shattering the glass altogether.

How does one stay an optimist in a culture adamantly opposed to authentic positivity? Where does hope fit in when it seems like no one believes in it anymore?

On Nov. 30, 1986, Pope Saint John Paul II famously said, “We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song.” This quote is commonly showcased on laptop stickers, Etsy pillows, and even car bumpers. However, most people only memorize the second part of the quote, leaving the first part out and abandoned. What, then, was his first exhortation?

“Do not abandon yourselves to despair.”

It’s hard to imagine a more despairing moment than the one pictured on the cover of this magazine. Not only was it an execution, which is gruesome in itself, but it was an execution of the Perfect Man – the Perfect Man who had made a lot of promises that it didn’t seem like He was going to be able to keep. What did all of His healings, miracles, and commandments matter if He was just going to die like a common slave? These people needed more than just three years of miracles.

What did it matter that Jesus had told his disciples, not once, but three times, that He would rise again on the third day? The disciples had no reference point for that. As far as they knew, the only man who was powerful enough to raise people from the dead was, Himself, dying. Perhaps that’s why eleven out of the twelve ran off into the night. They abandoned themselves to despair.

And yet, almost 2000 years later, His disciples universally call this day “Good Friday.” That day, when God was executed and the world abandoned itself to despair, has become a beacon of hope throughout millennia, a staying point through generations. The disciples ran away in fear from Jesus hanging on the Cross; crucifixes now hang proudly in doorways of homes, where families look to them as signs of hope.

Friends, if we are to be an Easter people, we must also be a Good Friday people. We must not abandon ourselves to despair or doubt, but must look at the various trials of life as occasions for hope, because we have already seen God bring good out of the greatest evil. That is our new reference point.

That doesn’t mean that we must approach these difficult moments in our lives with a falsified cheeriness —the Blessed Mother was certainly not feeling cheery or giddy at the foot of her Son’s Cross. But she was also not a cynic. She believed everything that Jesus had promised and waited with an expectancy for goodness that probably made her look foolish. She waited for God in hope.

As we move into this Holy Week and continue to carry our crosses alongside Christ, let us ask Him for holy hope and passionate joy. This is truly the mark of the Christian disciple: that we can look at our trials and call them good, because we have the upmost confidence that He can bring goodness out of every evil and beauty out of every cross.

Crucifixes hang in the doorways of our homes and around our necks because we have not abandoned ourselves to despair. Let us then be wary of cynicism, living out our Christian witness in light of this hopeful, expectant joy.