Joy, fear and suffering represent the trilogy of the Christian life. We would all love it, wouldn't we, if every moment of our lives found us bubbling over with joy? Maybe some people have that expectation about the Christian life. Surely the prosperity gospel reeks of it; but it's a fairytale! There is no happily ever after this side of the veil at least as the world defines it. Everlasting joy will come only for those who love the Lord and persevere until the end. But to expect Easter joy without the passion and cross here on earth in our daily life is a pipe dream. Unless, of course, we embrace God's will in all its fullness and come to recognize joy in fear and suffering. Some of the saints surely did that; but how many of us even come close?
For many people, objective moments of joy seem rare. The trials of Job are not just make believe. I read a case recently of a poor woman who grew up in an abusive home. She married happily, but her husband died suddenly and young leaving her with several children. He had no insurance, so she immediately had to find a job. Her parents provided child care, but then her dad fell ill and died. Then her mom got sick, so caring for her added to the woman's challenges and sorrows. She never had time to grieve any of these situations as she soldiered on in exhaustion. And then she just quit. Her children were adults at that point and she succumbed to depression, lying on the couch for weeks, neglecting herself, almost comatose. Fortunately, with the urging of her children, she got help and joy did return to her life after years of suffering.
While the story of this woman is extreme, I've known people who experience one tragedy after another. Their sufferings seem insurmountable. And almost all suffering, I think, is accompanied by a dreaded companion -- fear. I confess that my greatest fear these days is knowing that I will probably be the surviving spouse, that my husband will die first and I will be the one entering into the great loneliness. I know in my head that I will never be alone. God will always be with me and my guardian angel will remain at my side. But the realization that I will sit in the evening praying my rosary alone and wake up to a quiet house with only my own thoughts to keep me company fills me with anxiety and fear. Which just proves that I am deficient in love, since "perfect love casts out fear."
Scripture tells us that today has sufficient troubles of its own, so worrying about the future is useless. Nevertheless, those nagging thoughts and fears refuse to leave us alone. The devil loves to fan the flames of anxiety in order to urge a soul to discouragement and despair. Our job is to thwart his efforts, embrace our fears and suffering, and offer them as a sacrifice on the altar mingled with the Body and Blood of Christ.
Is it easy? Of course not! Will we often fail? Absolutely! But Jesus taught us how to respond after we fall: we must struggle to our feet again through the grace of the sacraments of Penance and the Eucharist and continue walking in His footsteps toward the final calvary of our deathbed. We will not be alone there as we say to Jesus and Mary: "Into your hands I commend my spirit." If we imitate our suffering Savior and our suffering Mother Mary we cannot fail. We are soldiers of Christ. Let us soldier on until the battle is over.
Lord Jesus, have mercy on us.
Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.
So beautifully put. Amen
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteMy husband of 61 years died three years ago, and it was simply the period at the end of one of God's paragraphs in my life. He started a new paragraph, of course, and it also is a blessing.