By the Sweat of your Brow

 

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!