Lenten
Parish Mission at St. Lambert
3-4 April
2022
In the Presence of the Blessed Sacrament
Pondering the Mystery of Suffering in the Christian Life
Part 1: Sunday evening, 3 April 2022, starting with
Exposition at 6:00 pm
Praised be Jesus Christ!
Talking about the Mystery of Suffering must perforce
confront us with the scandal or bewilderment which having to endure suffering
presents to the mind. Humanly speaking, suffering makes no sense and cannot be
classed as particularly productive. Suffering or hardship in our lives is most
apt to elicit an exclamation from us like “Why, Lord!” In terms of illness, misfortune, and grief as they
impact our lives, as well as the lives of those whom we love, and the lives of
all Catholics, suffering hardly seems a strategy for winning. Let me class what
we are going to do in the next half hour as pondering, not puzzling, not
shrugging your shoulders, but pondering, kind of rolling things around in your
mind in the search for comprehension.
- * -
(By way of a parenthesis or
clarification)
In
line with the general theme of our Parish Mission, Pondering the Mystery of
Suffering in the Christian Life, our two evenings of recollection taking
place as they do at the beginning of Passiontide, besides fixing our thoughts on
Jesus Who offered Himself up on the Cross for all of us, we can also and
rightly focus on the Blessed Virgin Mary, our sorrowful Mother. The Lord Jesus spared
sorrow and pain to neither Himself nor to His Beloved Mother. That is in a
sense at the heart of the scandal of suffering. Christianity or Catholicism is
not a pain and anxiety mitigation system or strategy. Our baptismal sharing in
the life of Christ unto glory can be for us as well, no less than it was for
Mary, a share in His cup of suffering. Most people would call that scandalous
and I guess understandably so.
For
a number of reasons, it is important to bring the Blessed Virgin Mary into our
conversation. Really, she must be there. That statement may not be self-evident
for many Catholics because for more than a generation, from some time in the late
1950’s almost up to the turn of the century, devotion to Mary was neglected in
many circles, for years Mary was neglected in seminaries and sadly even in many
of our Catholic schools. Praise God, that devotion to the Mother of God has
made a comeback in our day! Nonetheless, because so many of our younger
Catholics, even people 40 years of age, may not have clear ideas about the
significance of the Virgin Mary for the life of the Church, it is important not
to miss occasions to bring her clearly into the picture and address her
particular role in the mystery of salvation. The Cross and the suffering of the
Lord Jesus for our salvation do stand alone; the Redeemer’s work is sufficient
unto itself. By His own divine will, however, He brings about the work of
redemption not without His Mother Mary standing there silently at the foot of
the Cross.
With
the aim then of including the Mother of God in our reflection, it must be said
that Passiontide is traditionally a time to consider the Seven Sorrows of the
Blessed Virgin Mary. The Seven Sorrows of Mary commemorate key events in the
life of Mary that brought her much pain. Mary though sinless was no stranger to
suffering. The suffering endured by the Immaculate Conception, God’s own
Mother, deprives us of any reason whatever to bemoan our fate as wretched
sinners suffering here in the world. Important is that we suffer not as dumb
animals but with and in Jesus Christ and for the glory of His Name, for His
great Truth.
Devotion
to Our Lady of Sorrows is a primary way to discuss suffering’s role in the
Christian life. The Devotion is very ancient, it takes its inspiration directly
from the Gospels, in particular from the infancy narrative and the account of the
presentation of Baby Jesus in the Temple. More precisely, devotion to the Sorrowful
Mother of God takes its inspiration from the prophecy of Simeon recounted in
Luke’s Gospel, which included that part touching on the sorrow which would come
Mary’s way for love of her Son.
“And the child’s father
and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed
them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and
the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the
inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul
too.” (Luke 2:33-35).
The
Seven Sorrows devotion owes its origin in part to the Servite Order, founded in
1233 by a group called the Seven Holy Founders. From the very beginning these
men and their order sought to live a life dedicated to Our Lady of Sorrows. Through
their spirituality they developed a list of the “7 Sorrows of Mary.” The
devotion recalls seven events in the life of Mary when she experienced great
sorrow. They are as follows:
1.
The Prophecy of
Simeon (Luke 2:34–35)
2.
The Flight into
Egypt to escape Herod seeking to kill the Child (Matthew 2:13)
3.
The Loss of the
Child Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem (Luke 2:43–45)
4.
The Meeting of
Mary and Jesus on his Way to Calvary (traditionally listed among the 14
Stations of the Cross)
5.
Mary’s Experience
of Standing at the Foot of the Cross (John 19:25)
6.
Jesus Being Taken
Down from the Cross and placed in the Arms of His Mother (Matthew 27:57–59)
7.
The Burial of
Jesus, where Mary arranges her Son’s Body in the Tomb (John 19:40–42).
Here this evening, in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament
as we are, it is still right and proper to pray also to the Theotokos, the
God-Bearer, and to remember in particular Mary’s suffering and the light it can
shed on the Mystery of Suffering in the Christian Life, that is on suffering in
our lives as well.
So, join
me in a brief and familiar prayer to Mary! Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of
Mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To thee to we cry, poor banished
children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this
valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward
us, and after this exile, show unto us the blessed Fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O
clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.
Pray for us, O holy Mother
of God.
That we may be made worthy
of the promises of Christ. Amen.
- * -
Before
we get into our topic for this evening, I must tell you that I am always happier
when someone else picks the topic I am supposed to speak on. For me personally it
is always easier to speak on an assigned topic, especially when I agree with the
choice that others have made for me.
The
title again for both evenings of our Mission is: Pondering the Mystery of
Suffering in the Christian Life. The theme for tonight is: The
Scandal of Suffering, specifically in terms of Illness, Misfortune, and Grief,
as they impact our lives and the lives of all Catholics.
Why the specific mention of Illness, Misfortune, and Grief?
Are those the only generic types of suffering which might provoke scandal? The
answer is: Not hardly, but in the case of illness, it is a form of suffering
proper to an individual and for the most part not readily shared or sharable
with others, unless we are talking about a contagious disease. Misfortune too,
as in a car accident, a catastrophic bankruptcy, or as we are learning these
days in Ukraine even in war, certainly causes a great deal of pain to the
sufferer potentially at least through no fault of his or her own (think of war
refugees!). Grief on the other hand is rarely mine alone. As connected as we
are in family and society, we certainly share grief with others to a greater or
lesser degree. This is particularly true when death strikes a family, as in the
loss of a child, a young brother or sister, or a spouse. In the case of grief,
we share our sorrow necessarily with others. Beyond that, grief as such has its
moments and its intensity, as do both the suffering caused by illness and by misfortune.
No
matter the origin of our suffering, whether taken on voluntarily or imposed
upon us, to suffer is neither a lark nor an adventure. Our life this side of
heaven is bound up in the mystery of suffering and, very simply, it hurts. As disciples of Jesus Christ our lives are bound up with
His suffering and ultimately, our real happiness in life cannot be totally
separated from bitterness and pain. I hope you will accept that statement
at face value. If I wanted to sort it out for you, I would need another evening’s
talk at least. Let it suffice to say that I am thoroughly convinced that in the
Christian life suffering and joy are yoked together. I know of a young woman
who fled from the responsibility for her husband of 18 months, left paralyzed by
an accident. She fled a life of suffering with him, meaning him no harm but
unwilling to embrace such a burden of care. I think in doing so, the good woman
deprived herself of happiness.
As
disciples of Jesus Christ our lives, just like that of His Mother, are bound up
with His suffering. Ultimately, our real happiness in life, knowing Christ,
cannot be totally separated from the rigors of His Passion, and from our own bitterness
and pain as we face His pain and suffering as well. The booklet for the Way of
the Cross, composed by St. Alphonsus Liguori, which we use here in the parish
brings this home again and again in very beautiful fashion. In our own personal
lives, we cannot not know suffering. Suffering is bound to the human condition.
Beyond that and even more importantly, it binds us in intimate fashion to the
Man of Sorrows, to Our Lord and Savior. He is the one in whom we find our joy
and consolation.
Why talk about the scandal of suffering? I think it is
important to start out with a look at suffering as scandal not only for those
who are pained to see us suffer and perhaps die, but also for how we experience
suffering in our own bodies as scandal, as something unfair or unjust, as
something not chosen but imposed upon us, as something which naturally causes confusion
maybe, but certainly can bring forth from our hearts protest and anguish. I listed
three key words: illness, misfortune, and grief. We have little or no choice
when it comes to any of them and can easily feel ourselves victims. To be clear,
although martyrdom is talked about as a radical form of Christian witness, in
point of fact, we cannot really manage or even choose something like martyrdom.
The
case of martyrdom as witness for Christ is clear, but exceptional. The witness
of suffering in the Christian life which is closer to our personal experience
is best exemplified by those the Church canonizes as confessors of the faith. Among
these, you might have your favorites. Among mine would be St. John of the Cross,
who endured imprisonment by his own brothers in religion for holding to a
reform course for his Carmelites, inspired by the reform led by St. Teresa of
Avila. Though he had committed no error, St. John was literally locked away in
solitary confinement, there being nothing particularly romantic or poetic about
his jail cell either. Short of dying as martyrs, obviously, lots of confessors
of the faith teach us by their words and deeds of their identification with
Christ Who gave up His life for all of us. In the old Church calendar, most
every saint who is not a martyr or a virgin was classed a confessor. Not all of
the confessors of the Church wrote books like St. John of the Cross, some wrote
and taught extensively like St. Thomas Aquinas, or preached like St. Vincent Ferrer,
but the Cross of Christ did shine forth clearly in all of their lives.
Voluntary personal mortification, penance, had its place in all of their lives.
Much hardship and pain came their way without their having any choice in the
matter.
At
the beginning of 2021 with my retirement back home here to Sioux Falls, I added
the reading of the Roman Martyrology to my daily
prayer. I bought a little paperback copy of it in English. It has a place of
honor on my bookshelf next to my seat in my little chapel at home. For each day
of the year, in just one small paragraph, the Martyrology recounts the
traditional saints for the given calendar day, most of whom died for the faith,
that is, who were martyred. The way the Roman Martyrology and its daily reading
works is that in monasteries and religious communities, usually in choir at the
recitation of the Divine Office for the hour of Prime, the reader for the day reads
the short passage in chapel listing the saints for the next day. In some
monastic communities I have experienced it as a reading centered on the saints
of the particular order and done at the main meal in the refectory. The
practice of reading the daily martyrology is also recommended for those like me
praying the Divine Office privately. Lots of times, in just a very few words,
not flowery, not particularly ecstatic nor glamorous, but often rather quite
matter of fact and even brutal, there is recounted the death for Christ of a
man, woman or child. The Roman Martyrology has made a big impression upon me. Without
saying it straight out, it is clear that if you are not a martyr then you have
to kind of hustle in the Church to make the cut. In the confessors, virgins,
and other saints who did not meet a violent death for Christ, the holiness of their
lives is more than evident because of the miracles which accompanied them both
before and after death. The great tradition of the Church leaves no doubt that
the Christian life cannot be divorced from suffering, a suffering which is
lifegiving and healing. Whether we talk about following Christ or about imitating
Him in our lives, we hold that my life as a person baptized into Christ cannot be
unlike that of Our Lord and Savior, Who suffered and died to open the gates of
heaven for us.
So
then, here we go with martyrdom as the high road to heaven but suffering as
that narrow gate into the sheepfold or that narrow path which leads to the
Kingdom! Before you puzzle too much about whether there may be other options
apart from suffering let me quote a passage from the Gospel of Matthew 16:21-28!
“From
that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem
and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and
scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him
aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never
happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get
behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your
mind not on divine things but on human things.” Then Jesus told his disciples,
“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their
cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and
those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit
them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they
give in return for their life? ‘For the Son of Man is to come with his angels
in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been
done. Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death
before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.’” [Matt. 16:21-28] Harper Bibles. NRSV Catholic Edition Bible (pp.
929-930). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.
“Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting
your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Jesus’ reprimand of Peter must have hit him hard, but
it leaves us perfectly clear about Jesus’ mission and how we can share therein.
As hard as this was for St. Peter to comprehend, rather than labelling
suffering as passivity and a simple resignation to the unavoidable, Christ’s
way is indeed proactive, dynamic. It is that of the Cross. “Get behind me,
Satan!”
Okay!
Readiness to suffer with and for Christ is one thing, Archbishop, but in your
title for the talk you alluded specifically to illness, misfortune, and grief.
Nobody gladly volunteers for such; none of those things are chosen but rather generally
they fall upon us just like what they are, that is to say, they are bad luck. How
does suffering, a very human thing as we experience it in life, become
redemptive? Isn’t suffering rather tied to the human condition? What merit is
there to it? How are we bound to Christ by the illness we may endure, by
embracing misfortune should it come our way? How do we work through the tears
of our grief to a more perfect identification with the Good Shepherd Who never
leaves His flock untended?
I
remember way back as a young deacon being totally flabbergasted by a woman in a
small hospital here in the state, who looked as though she was going to die after
good old-fashioned gallbladder surgery. She did not expect all the
postoperative pain and was at risk of dying for being unwilling to endure that
pain. After days of her life hanging in the balance, either the pain subsided,
or she began to face it and her will to live and get back to family returned. I
cannot tell you how many people over the years who blame God for having asked
too much in claiming a young child or an infant. Their refusal to embrace
suffering in life has deprived them of joy and keeps God at arm’s length.
Let
me just kind of drop you there for this evening and go back to the 7 Sorrows of
Mary to conclude for now! All seven are real sorrows but some of them truly more
burdensome. In the Gospel we read that Mary pondered certain things in her
heart. She suffered certainly as well. The flight into Egypt must have been a
real terror for the young mother. I can’t imagine her accompanying her Son
along the way of the Cross, and from the foot of the Cross all the way to the
grave.
Humanly
speaking what Mary suffered with Jesus was indeed scandalous. She conceived
without sin had no need for penance or to make reparation; she was and is
perfect in the eyes of God.
I
would invite you to see suffering in the lives of little children and in your
life in a somewhat analogous manner to what is recounted of Mary in her seven
sorrows. Suffering is the portal which opens up the way to joy. I know that
sounds paradoxical, but I am firmly convinced that it is true. The Christian
life is neither bloodless nor pallid. When God set Adam and Eve outside of the
Garden after their sin, He added toil to their life story. I cannot believe
that they did not sweat in Eden, but in any case, Adam was to raise food by the
sweat of his brow as a consequence. Sweat must be something which open doors,
however. Christ, the new Adam sweat blood in His anguished prayer in the Garden
of Gethsemane.
The
time has gone too quickly, so I hope you’ll excuse me if I just blurt it out
and say suffering may seem a scandal, but it is actually the path to life and a
reason for that hope which binds us through Mary to the Eternal Son of our
Heavenly Father.
Praised
be Jesus Christ!
Our
Lady of Sorrows, Mater Dolorosa! Ora pro nobis!
