We need to go through the pain.

Wednesday of Holy Week

This morning I had a chance to meet with a group of people, not all of them Christian, who were living difficult and troubled lives, and who were struggling to keep their heads above water. My heart when out to them and I admired their courage and their willingness to speak from the heart directly and sincerely and without any need to put up a good front or to “look good.”

Several of them spoke about having the feeling from time to time that they welcomed death as a release from their pain and suffering, and how at some times they felt like they were at “the end of their ropes” and had little or no energy to keep going on. What could I possibly say to them?

I decided to take a plunge and talk about Holy Week despite the variety of religious traditions present in the room. I gave a brief description, trying to keep it as “secular” as possible because this was not a setting where I could preach or proselytize. They knew I was a priest, and so that fact spoke enough to them. So: what to say?

Finally, this is what I said, and I give thanks to the Holy Spirit for guiding my words because I wasn’t really sure what to say: “Basically, the observance of Holy Week and Easter is like going through a process. It’s meaning is that it is by pressing through pain that we end up on the other side and win the victory and the cessation of suffering.” And that is all I had to say. Several of the people in the room looked like I had just revealed a great secret to them that they had never discovered before. I didn’t need to say any more.

When I reviewed the Gospel for today’s Mass (Matthew 26:14-25) I recognized our Lord in already in pain. It was the Passover Supper—the final night He would be with His disciples. On some level he knew what was to come, but there He was in a room surrounded by friends, in a room where one might suppose there was a great deal of love and devotion, and despite all that he had to come face to face with his betrayer who would soon leave the room and go about his nasty business.

This Gospel passage sets before us one of the many “Stations of Pain” that the Lord has to experience on His own way to Calvary, through death, and then to glorified Resurrection and victory. This year, as I enter the Holy Week process, I will remember in a special way the precious men and women I had spoken with this morning, along with all the other suffering people in the world whose lives contain more pain than joy at this time in our troubled history.

May the Lord of life be with you.

From Good Friday to Easter Sunday

Have you lived a Paschal Mystery? That is, have you travelled the journey from Good Friday to Easter Sunday in your own life and met God along the way?

Paschal Mystery: A time when it seemed that all was lost, but then you rose from the ashes to a new life that was better than the life you left.

Paschal Mystery: A time of great loss that gave way to new blessings that you never could have imagined before.

Paschal Mystery: A time of suffering that gave way to a time of relief and restoration?

Paschal Mystery: A time when you fell so low that you thought God might give up on you (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?) only to find that God was there supporting you and lifting you up and restoring to you your lost dignity?

Paschal Mystery: Someone might be lying right now on a bed of pain, terminally ill, awaiting or even hoping for death, hoping that the death they have to pass through will help them experience the words, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Some of us might be at the Good Friday stage of our own Paschal Mystery—some of us might be suffering, or might be disappointed, humiliated, bewildered, confused, unsure or tempted to despair—in other words, some of us may be experiencing our own Good Friday during this Lent. If so, don’t give up hope: look beyond your pain and your loss to an Easter Sunday which is sure to follow.

And on the journey, you will encounter Christ. Look for Him. Pray for Him to reveal Himself to you.

God bless you.

Process

God is always watching over us and protecting us, and arranging circumstances so that “all things work for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) Sometimes as this process unfolds we go through periods of disruption, loss, sadness, frustration and injustice. I’ve seen it happen again and again in my own life as well in the lives of people I know.

I like to call it a “process” when this happens because, according to my dictionary, a process is (1) “a forward or onward movement, as to an objective or a goal, or (2) “a natural phenomenon marked by gradual changes that lead toward a particular result.”

Keeping this definition in mind may help us look at those dark periods in our lives in a way that makes sense out of them. The disappointment or even tragedy is part of a “forward or onward movement;” that is, it will not remain in the same unpleasant condition forever. Our suffering is leading somewhere. (Think of Christ on the cross as an example).

The second definition of process is even more hopeful. There is a result (or objective) to our difficulties, and this result is something that God has in mind as he is acting in our lives.

And so in those times of difficulty we are able to think that “this too shall pass,” and also that God is working things out that we don’t understand at present but which will be revealed in time. Sometimes it takes a long time; other times the whole process unfolds rather quickly.

I just saw it happen with one of my students. He lost X and was very upset. Just two weeks later, his life changed and he found himself enjoying Y and understanding that the things that caused the loss were necessary in order for him to be blessed by Y. (I hope this isn’t too vague for you, but I didn’t want to go in to telling the whole story.) And so X became a source of great blessing.

Has that happened in your life before? I know it has in mine. And if you’re going through a difficult time right now, remember that you are in a process that will ultimately lead towards a good. That’s how God arranges things in our lives, thanks be to God.

May he bless you always.

Losing control

Today we look at the first of the twelve “Signs that you are spiritually awakening” which was posted yesterday. Notice that I just used the present tense—you are spiritually awakening—rather than the past tense—you have had a spiritual awakening. The awakening itself is a process that takes time. What these twelve items suggest is what we discover happening in our lives if we are consciously practicing habits of prayer, mind and spirit that do produce a gradual spiritual awakening in us. After all, we are all in via, “on the way.” So here is the first of the list:

1. An increased tendency to let things happen rather than to make things happen.

It takes so much work, so much energy, so much preoccupation for us to serve the illusion that we are in control of what happens in our lives, or that we can exercise control to make sure that something we want happens.

 And more often than not, our efforts don’t produce the effect we wanted them to produce. Something happens. Something gets in the way. Someone foils our plans, often unwittingly. And yet, we continue to try, because the need to control things is an instinctive urge that we are born with. And for many, that need takes over and the illusion that we are, indeed, in control, runs our lives.

Consider King Herod and his reaction when he finds out that a great king has been born in Bethlehem. Right away, he sets up his program of control: the Magi are to report back to him after they have found the Christ Child, and then he will put his henchmen to work. But things don’t turn out that way, and Herod, enraged, orders the murder of all male children under the age of 2. And yet, even this doesn’t do the trick.

The Good News of the story revolves around the mysterious: angels and dreams. Joseph is warned in a dream to take his family to Egypt. The Magi are told in a dream to take a different route home to avoid Herod putting his plan into action. Herod, at last, is not in control; God is. But because of Herod’s rage, thousands of families are made to suffer.

So, with all this in mind, I have a few questions for you:

·         Do you have any programs in place to control what is happening in your life? Are you really in charge? How often to your programs succeed? And what is it costing you to live your life this way? And how are others made to suffer because of your imaginary sense of control?

·         Have you ever noticed that many if not most of the wonderful things that have happened in your life are not the result of your planning or plotting, but rather happen, it seems, by accident (or we might say, by Providence)?

·         Have you learned yet that the issues you are most concerned about, or most anxious about, tend to work themselves out in unexpected and often wonderful ways once we have let go of our desire to control and rather simply put things “in the hand of God”?

It takes practice. It takes thought. It takes prayer, especially meditation or contemplative prayer.

Here is a simple mediation for those who have never done it before: Close your eyes and pay attention to your breathing without controlling it. As you exhale, let go of your urge to control. As you inhale, inhale your faith that God is working things out. If you’d like, as you exhale, you might think the words “into your hands, O Lord,” and as you inhale, “Lord, increase my faith.”  Or else simply follow your breath and remain without words. If you’ve never done this before, try it for a minute or 2.

The Agony of Paris

A terrible thing happened in Paris this weekend. Hatred, violence, the killing of innocence, unmerited pain, fanaticism, self-destruction, terror and chaos.

If you can, sit with the weight of all this evil  while gazing at a crucifix, and behold Him Who drew onto himself the entire weight of sin and evil in the world.

Hold the pain and connect it with the crucifix, and stay with it for as long as you are inspired to do.

In your prayers, let every suffering soul and every grieving person be embraced by the crucifix.

And remember this: the crucifix is the gateway to the end of all pain, all violence, all hatred, all chaos.

All death.

* * * * *

A terrible thing happened in Paris this weekend.

A terrible thing is happening in the world these days, every hour, every moment.

Terrible things are happening in our country these days, every hour, every moment.

We cannot and do not hear of all of them. Few of them make the news or attract the attention of the media.

But still they are happening. And always, it is the crucifix that provides the only point of reference that makes it possible to bear the evil.

Even though it may seem impossible, or implausible, or unimaginable,

it is within the agony of the crucifix that is found  the seed of the end of it all,

and that seed will come to life.

And there will be peace. We will see glimpses of it. It will drown the darkness for all time.

And so pray,

     grieve,

          carry the pain.

                Allow the pain to gentle you and me that we may be no part of the darkness.

Pay careful attention to anything within you that may contribute to the darkness, even the temptation to think of righteous revenge. For when you think like that, you are infected by the same evil.

Pray. Grieve. Carry the pain. And give it over to the Savior the world needs so badly.

And let it end there. And let it begin there.

Let the feeling pass

The same theme came up in several sources I’ve been reading and hearing today. I’ll present them to you hear, and hope that you will weave them together in a way which is most helpful to you. Remember to take what resonates with you and leave the rest behind for now:

 From the Imitation of Christ: All of us are subject to a constant flow of changing feelings, and what we need to do is arise above them and keep our eyes on Christ and our hearts on the goal which awaits us.

From the Letter of Paul to the Romans: I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as compared to the glory to be revealed for us. (Rom 8:18)

From the martyred Oscar Romero: . . . the glorification that we’ll one day be given, superior to all the pains and sufferings that can be felt on this earth. . . I knew a man who was being tortured: as he suffered, he said ‘The hope I have and the glory I await are greater than this suffering.’   Recorded in Give Us This Day in the reflection for October 27, 2015.

From mindfulness training (which we have spoken about in several previous reflections): Consider that  You are not your feelings. You are the one who has the feelings which continually arise and pass through you if you do not attach yourself to them.

From Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O.: “Once you disidentify with your feelings, you know that you can change them. You are not your feelings.” “It is important to keep reminding [ourselves] to face the truth of our feelings without identifying with them, acting them out, or objectifying them and blaming them on other people.” Divine Mercy and Addiction, pp. 26-27.

God's experience

The second reading for today’s Mass, from Hebrews: For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way without sin.

Do you get how marvelous that is?!!!  There is no trial that you or I ever have to endure that we cannot find by looking at the crucifix and by studying the Gospels. I take the liberty of extending that passage to refer to suffering as well. The wonderful things about Christian truth is that we have a God who suffers with us, who knows about suffering not by means of his unbounded intellect, but in a far more important way: through personal experience.

They say that “a sorrow shared is half a sorrow.” Well then, always remember where you need to bring your sorrow. And your pain. And your weakness. And anything else you need to bring.

Unhelpful sympathy, helpful sympathy

From that book by Iain Matthew that I cited a couple of weeks ago:

"Sympathy can be ruinous. 'I think it's dreadful--I don't know how you put up with it. No. I really can understand, you must feel awful.   . . . . There is a kind of sympathy that leaves the sufferer exhausted. . . . it is important to respond in the right way . . . not just to console, but to help someone bear pain creatively.'"

IMHO: That's the reason the image of the suffering Christ on the crucifix is so consoling. Don't go around the pain, go through it to the other side.