Taste and See

            Love is a palpable, tangible reality. Love can be consumed, with our physical bodies, our flesh and blood, our whole being. It exists between old friends, family members, a married couple, or our Christian family.  It exists in the generosity to the poor man on the side of the road. It exists in feeding a hungry child, in the care of an elderly parent, or the fervent prayer for the sinner. Love can be consumed for our life, our faith, our health and our souls.

            Love is not just a feeling or an act of compassion. It is not altruism, nor any other philosophy or mental construct. Love is a person. He came in the flesh. He gave that flesh for the life of the world. His blood was poured out on the soil of the earth, the dust from which we were made and to which we will return.

            That Love is inseparable from the physical reality of this world, to which our own flesh and blood belong. We are no dualists or Gnostics, claiming that our souls or minds are better than our bodies, because that Love is the Resurrection and the Life. He is our true food, our true drink. And now, he still gives that flesh for the life of the world – the Most Holy Eucharist. We can consume him, his body, blood, soul and divinity. If we let him, he will come in and sup with us, and we with him.

            “I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, O Lord, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”

            Can we ask for anything more than you, Jesus?

Sacrifices of the Will: Forgiveness

           Jesus’ love is so great for us that it is unfathomable. We are so far from the love that he is, and the ocean of mercy that he continually offers us. And, yet, he calls us to lives of love and mercy. He calls us to be merciful, as he is merciful. He calls us to love, as he has loved us. This is most evident in our necessity as Christians to forgive others, as he has forgiven us.

            What pain, though, it is to forgive others sometimes. Must we really forgive, for example, the murderer of our children, the ex-spouse who destroyed our family, the bad confessor who hurt me, the person who started me on a path to addiction, the parent who abused me, or the person who stole all my money? Must we forgive those who continually abuse me? What about the person who sat at the red light too long, or the one who scratched my car, the person who burnt my meal, or the spouse that forgot to complete that chore? Yes, and more. We must forgive it all.

            “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. (Col. 3:12-13 NRSVCE)” There is no waiver in “must.” St. Paul is very clear about forgiveness being a necessity for those of us who have been forgiven ourselves.

Forgiveness requires compassion, first, because we will never be able to forgive the one who hurt us without first seeing their need for love and for mercy, too. As evil as they may be, they are just as much as us, if not more, in need of the mercy of God, the healing of God to be made whole. They are broken, and sick, in need of a Physician. If we do not see the person with the eyes of Christ, the eyes of compassion, we will always see them as the one who harmed our selves or our loved ones.

Forgiveness takes kindness, because we must show kindness to the person who hurt us, despite the pain and havoc they may have caused. This is what forgiveness means, not to feel better about the person, but to treat them with kindness and to not hold against them their sin. Does that mean being friends with them, to spend time with them, to even speak with them? Not always. There are some occasions in which the person committing the sin against us is not repentant. In that case, it may be better for them and us that we remove ourselves from their presence. It may even be the case of having to send them to prison or jail. Regardless, though, we are called to have kindness toward them. That means working for their good, and not their harm.

Forgiveness takes humility, because we must allow ourselves to truthfully recognize our place before God, and to submit ourselves to love. Humility will overcome our stubborn wills. More so, we will be able to love as Christ loved. He humbled himself, even to the point of death on the Cross, without regard even to the fact that he was God in the flesh. (Phil. 2:5-8) There was no point too low. We must do the same. We must follow him into the path of love, where we will have to put aside all the things we believe we deserve or are owed. Sometimes, we must continue to be abused, praying constantly for God’s grace to change the offender’s heart.

Meekness is required in the same light that humility is, but it would be more of the fruit of that humility. I mean that, since meekness is the virtue of having power under self-control, it will display itself in forgiveness by overcoming the desire to have justice or vengeance. We are always wanting our selves to be vindicated or to receive justice, and often we seek it on our own time, by our own methods. Forgiveness allows us to give all justice and vengeance over to God, who is Judge of all, and who will reward everyone according to their deeds, without partiality. (Rom. 2:6-11)

Patience will allow us to love the offender, and to pray for our enemies, so that they may be converted, healed, and forgiven by God, too. Patience will allow us to endure the pain that we may receive when the offender does not want to be forgiven or change their ways. Patience will certainly help us to endure and to overcome the obstacle of time and lack of strength we have while being humble, meek and compassionate. “Longsuffering” is another word for patient, as the older translations of 1 Corinthians 13 read: “Love is longsuffering and kind.” “Suffering” is not part of this alternate word of “patient” for no reason! Forgiveness takes renouncement of our wills in almost every way, and it is painful to give up that will.

Perhaps we have forgiven others and have been granted the grace to hold no grudges. There is one more person we must forgive – our self.  We must do this, too. If we have confessed our sins, and God has forgiven us, then there is a necessity on our part to accept that forgiveness. C.S. Lewis once said that if we do not forgive ourselves when God has forgiven us already, then we are prideful and hold ourselves up as judges over God himself.

The real issue, though, is that our adversary often does not allow us peace of mind regarding our own sins. “Satan” actually means “accuser.” He is called this for the very reason that he is always accusing us of our sin, always reminding us of it. He will not let it go. He does not want us to let the sin go. He does this, because he wants us to lose hope – hope in God’s grace, mercy and love, especially, but also hope in our position as children of God. He wants us to forget that we are children of the Most High.

Jesus said to his disciples, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed. (John 8:34-36 NRSVCE)” Having been forgiven by Christ himself, the Holy One of God who has remained and reached perfection by his obedience, we are set free. So, in our Baptism, we are regenerated, washed clean and made children of God. In the confessional, upon hearing the words “I absolve you of your sins,” we are made clean again and set free from slavery.

The accuser desires only to drag us back to slavery. He wants us to believe we will most certainly fall back into slavery, into the sin that clings so closely and seeks our destruction. No! More than that, he wants to make us believe we are slaves still, and not sons and daughters of God. In fact, though, we are children of God, the Almighty, who gives us his Spirit, to empower us and to give us true life, free from the sin that corrupts our hearts and eats away the life of our souls.

We must, then, always fight against all sorts of evil in order to forgive not only ourselves, but also those who have done great evil against us and our loved ones. There is no limit to God’s forgiveness. As Pope Francis recently said, “God never tires of forgiving, but it is us who tire of asking for his forgiveness.” So, we must continually seek his forgiveness. Then, we must continually give what we have received from God. For, if we do not forgive others their faults, our hearts are closed to the grace of God, and he cannot give to us the forgiveness that he so longs to pour out upon us in his mercy. Yet, he runs after us and urgently seeks us, to show his love and to take us up into his arms. As a shepherd seeks a lost sheep, as a poor widow seeks one lost coin, he longs for us, and chases us.

But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

--Luke 6:35-37 NRSVCE

For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

-- Matthew 6:14-15 NRSVCE

He who knows how to forgive prepares for himself many graces from God. As often as I look upon the cross, so often will I forgive with all my heart. (390)

--St. Faustina

Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again; for forgiveness has risen from the grave.

--St. John Chrysostom

The Sacraments of God: Every Created Thing

            Orthodoxy, keeping right faith, is truly a balancing act. There are so many paradoxes; if any one thought is emphasized too much, then the faith becomes unorthodox and diseased rapidly. Soon, a slew of cancerous lies is filling the soul of the individual or group of believers who ran with one side of the story.  By God’s will, he has kept the gates of Hell from prevailing against his Church and led her into all truth, as he promised. Some outside the Church, though, have claimed she has fallen into disease by worshiping the creation instead of the Creator. What then? Should we be pagan, or Puritan? The Catholic Church has taken the ancient way, though, and done neither. She has kept to reason and truth, to worship God and receiving his grace by seeing creation as a sacramental reality.

             “Ever since the creation of the world [God’s] eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made,” St. Paul wrote in Romans 1:20 (NRSVCE). Holy Scripture clearly tells us that God’s creation was meant to be a sign and an instrument of God himself. St. Paul continues in the passage about how some, though, instead of recognizing the God to whom the creation points, have made their own gods and worshipped their own passions. They have “worshipped and served the creature rather than the Creator. (Rom. 1:25)”

            Throughout the history of the Church, there have been times at which those who have wanted to keep orthodox have attempted to debase and to rid the “creature” in an attempt to put distance between God and his creation, so as to worship him alone. They rid themselves of all objects like icons, relics, candles, incense, and liturgical garments. They rejected the art the Church has guarded, whether in the Sistine Chapel or in the Eucharistic monstrance of the local parishes. They rid themselves, finally, of all Sacraments of the Church. In doing so, they rid themselves of many created things that God has willed to use in order communicate himself, his love and his grace to draw us to himself.

            A sacrament is any thing (person, place, action, object) that communicates a hidden reality. Both the Greek and the Latin words for “mystery” are from where we get our English word “sacrament.” A sacrament is a mystery because the obvious and visible of the thing itself give way to the invisible reality of God and his goodness. Some sacraments are stronger in degree of communicating hidden realities. A few sacraments are so strong that they communicate God himself.

            Both the Canticle of Daniel and Psalm 148 are clear examples in Holy Scripture of what a sacrament in creation looks like. “Bless the Lord, all you works of the Lord. Praise and exalt him above all forever. Angels of the Lord, bless the Lord. You heavens, bless the Lord. […] Sun and moon […] Stars of heaven […] Every shower and dew […] you winds […] Fire and heat […] Cold and chill, bless the Lord. (Dan. 3:57-88 NAB) All created things point in praise of the Creator. Psalm 36:6 praises God’s “righteousness like the mighty mountains, and [his] judgments are like the great deep [oceans].”

            The pinnacle of creation, though, is humankind. We are made in his image, both male and female (Gen. 1:27). In us existed the perfect image of God prior to the entrance of sin. We were meant to be the perfect icon of the Creator, and through us, we were to draw up the whole creation in worship of him. Though we fell from grace, we did, however, retain part of that image of God even after having sinned. As St. Thérèse pointed out in her autobiography, The Story of a Soul, even a hard-hearted sinner like Pharaoh can be an instrument of God to be a kind of sacrament: “For the scripture says to Pharaoh, ‘I have raised you up for the very purpose of showing my power in you, so that my name may be proclaimed in all the earth.’ (Rom. 9:27 NRSVCE)”

            And, yet, through all of the muck and mess that we’ve made of the world, there is still a greater Sacrament in creation – the greatest Sacrament of all. It is not all of the great signs and wonders that God did for Israel, though they be sacramental in nature: the Arc of the Covenant, Moses’ staff, the tablets of the Commandments, the priestly sarifices, the pillar of fire, the burning bush. These were all great instruments of God’s power, his grace, his mercy and his presence.  Even Israel, the nation itself, was a kind of sacrament of God in the world, being an instrument of God’s holiness and salvation.

            The greatest sacrament of all is the Word made Flesh. Jesus Christ “is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. (Col. 1:15 NRSVCE)” It is he who communicates to us all of God, perfectly and without fault. He it is who communicates all life, all holiness. In his image, his own flesh and blood, he gives us all of God and his complete salvation, all fullness of grace. “O happy fault, that gained for us so great, so glorious a Redeemer!” is the praise we cry in the Easter Exsultet each year. He is the one who redeemed and restored the image of God to humankind. In him, and through him, we can become like God. He is the only Sacrament in complete totality, to communicate (the Word) the reality, the truths, of God and his mysteries.

            Next to him stands his bride, the Church. She is the body of Christ, as he is the head. She stands firm as another sacrament, to give life, and to be the presence of Christ to the world. She alone has been given his authority, his glory, his holiness, and his reign. She carries within her his fullness: “And [God] has put all things under his feet and has made [Christ] the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all. (Eph. 1:22-23 NRSVCE)”

            The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us, “The Church both contains and communicates the invisible grace she signifies. It is in this analogical way that the Church is called a sacrament. (774)” Later, in paragraphs 1118 and on, we read that, in the Church, the seven sacraments instituted by Christ himself (Baptism, Communion, Confirmation, Marriage, Holy Orders and Anointing of the Sick) are the gifts of Christ to his Church “for her” and “by her.” In these sacraments of the Church, performed by her, she is an instrument of the very grace that God gives to her. The Church is a sacrament, because she is an instrument of that grace that she signifies as the bride of Christ, as his Body; she is an instrument of Christ’s very action.

            Through the Sacraments of the Church, Christ is the one who acts. They are the signs and the instruments of his saving grace; they are the works of his hands. It is he who baptizes, he who washes clean, he who forgives, he who feeds us, he who binds us in matrimony and love, he who heals us, he who gives us the gifts of the Spirit and the authority of his priesthood (CCC, 1127). In instituting these Sacraments, he has given us perfect means of witnessing and receiving the act of God, through signs of invisible realities. These Sacraments give to us the Way, the Truth, and the Life. We should never disregard them as mere symbols, mere religious acts of piety or as empty rituals. They are the saving power of God, who has chosen the things of this world to bring about his salvation.

            Now, because of the Redemption won for us and the whole creation by Christ, the True Sacrament, we are able to return all created things to right order and to a right relationship with God. Romans 8:28-33 tells us that the whole of creation is eagerly awaiting the final redemption of humankind in the Resurrection, and is waiting for freedom from the corruption it was subjected to by our sin. By our “royal priesthood,” and as the Church, the body of Christ, we too are eagerly awaiting that day, and now work towards it by being instruments of God’s salvation and redemption.

            Here and now, we can help to bring all things to right relationship toward him, in love. In this, every created thing can become a sacramental of God, whether it be our Rosaries, our holy water, our candles, icons, medals, relics or crucifixes. They are all meant to be tools of God to draw us to him, and to even bring his healing, his graces to our lives. Simpler things can even become sacramental in nature, though: even handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched St. Paul were used to heal the sick and possessed (Acts 19:12).

There is nothing left behind in God’s work of redemption. Our whole lives and all of creation can be lifted up to God and can be an instrument of God for whatever purpose he wills, to put right the love relationship between his creation and himself. Let us love him with all that we have. And let us remember the highest gifts he has given to us, his Church, in her seven Sacraments to initiate and continue this work of redemption and healing. For without them, all other sacramentals would be lost, because they are the very work of the Word of God, Christ Jesus our Lord.

Perfection Rhymes with Confession?

            Perfect: the word has a lot of connotation in modern society. Mostly, it isn’t used among humans to refer to the behavior of other humans. In fact, it may refer to many other things other than behavior: machines, technology, vehicles, and last but not least, the opposite sex and their appearance. These uses are far from the “perfect” we read about in Scripture, the Saints and the writings of the Church. “Perfection” seems, to the world, a lofty idea, only achievable by external improvements of evolutionary advances and technological inventions. The “perfection” that Christ and his Church speak about, though, is internal, of the heart, and one starting at imperfection, first.

            Imperfection is the starting place of perfection, because we are all in need of the God who abundantly loves us; we are all in need of grace. The world begins a pursuit of perfection with pride. Christ begins with humility. The world attempts to build mini versions of the Tower of Babel over and over again: “Look at what we can do. Look at the achievements! Look at the advances we can make! One day, we will be in Paradise … several generations from now.” Instead, Christ says, “If you wish to be perfect, go and sell all of your goods, and then come follow me,” and, “If you will be exalted, humble yourself.”

            Christ told this parable to those who trusted in their own self-righteousness:

Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted. (Luke 18:10-14 NRSVCE)

Perfection, then, does not begin with self-pride and self-righteousness. It does not begin with the thought that we are already holy, that we are capable of great things, or that we can make ourselves righteous by our own strength. It begins with the recognition that we are in need of grace to accomplish anything, and that “apart from [Christ] you can do nothing. (John 15:5)” The beginning of perfection is in recognizing our complete poverty in and of ourselves. Even the Ever-Virgin, Immaculately Conceived proclaimed her need of God, her poverty: “My spirit rejoices in God, my Savior. (Luke 1:47)”

Christ repeatedly proclaimed that his first coming was to “seek and to save the lost,” and to heal those who were ill and blind, those living in darkness. “I have come to call not the righteous but sinners. (Mark 2:17)” He came to heal our wounds. So, after his resurrection, the first thing he did was give the authority of forgiving sins to his apostles: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained. (John 20:22,23 NRSVCE)”

The one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church is a living paradox: she is holy, and yet filled with sinners on earth. This is because Christ is the one who makes her holy, through his Sacraments, each time he forgives and washes her members. Christ knows our weakness. He knows our need of his strength, his power, his grace, and especially his mercy. In giving us the Sacrament of Reconciliation, he gave us the means of being healed, and to receive a clean heart from God. (Psalm 51; James 4:8; 5:14-16) “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” wrote St. John in his first epistle. (1:8,9 NRSVCE)

There is only one way to perfection, then. That is, to recognize our utter poverty without God, and to confess our sins to him and before others. In doing so, we will be justified. And from there, we can begin building our house on solid foundation – Christ, who is the rock bottom. Only he can help us to live the Christian life. Only he can help us to overcome our faults and our habitual sins, our vices. Only he can heal us of all the evil in our hearts.

Perfection consists in always going to Christ, the source of holiness, and being filled with his Spirit, constantly relying on him to work in and through us, without excuse, without despair, without pride. We must always humble ourselves, each day, in his presence and in the presence of others, so that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit may exalt us to the highest places of love and holiness to which he has called us. He wants us to be great; he wants us to be perfect. Sometimes, it just takes confession and forgiveness to start anew. Always, though, it takes humility.

“My grace is sufficient for you. In your weakness, my power is made perfect.” -- Jesus to St. Paul, 1 Cor. 12:9

“To acknowledge one's sin, indeed-penetrating still more deeply into the consideration of one's own personhood-to recognize oneself as being a sinner, capable of sin and inclined to commit sin, is the essential first step in returning to God.”

--St. John Paul II, “Reconciliation and Penance,” (13).

"Holiness is a disposition of the heart that makes us humble and little in the arms of God, aware of our weakness, and confident -- in the most audacious way -- in His Fatherly goodness."

--St. Therese of the Infant Jesus

”The more a person loves God, the more reason he has to hope in Him. This hope produces in the Saints an unutterable peace, which they preserve even in adversity, because as they love God, and know how beautiful He is to those who love Him, they place all their confidence and find all their repose in Him alone.”

“He who trusts himself is lost. He who trusts God can do all things.”

--Saint Alphonsus de Liguori

St. Alphonsus de Liguori, Doctor of the Church, pray for us.

St. Paul, you murdered a man and called yourself worst of all sinners. Yet, you were forgiven and made holy by Christ our Lord. You persevered by his Cross and Resurrection. Pray for us, that we may praise God with you and all the saints and angels forever.

Amen. +

Love: The Bond of Perfection

“And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profits me nothing. (1 Cor. 13:3)”

            With all this talk of suffering and sacrifice as a means to grow closer to God, to overcome sin, to follow Christ and to be made worthy of the kingdom of God, one might think, “Well, then, why aren’t all the poor, the disabled and the ill immediately shooting up to Heaven, since they are in constant suffering?” My personal answer is simply, “In some degree, they are.” After all, Jesus did say, “For to such belong the kingdom of God.” And again, he said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of Heaven.” Must we enumerate the Sermon on the Mount and Jesus’ words in the Beatitudes to prove it further? “Blessed are the poor …”

            What are we really asking about suffering, though? We really want to know the motive and the essence of suffering. “What makes suffering worth any value at all?” Why is suffering a means to obtain grace, virtue, and glory, even eternal life, first for ourselves and then for others? Is the Blessed Trinity a sadistic, blood thirsty God, who only longs for blood and tears?

            Certainly not. “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ (Matt. 12:7)” This is what Jesus told the Pharisees, as they judged sinners as worthless, and as they worked towards outward show of holiness, while ignoring care for hurting people. In another place he would tell them, “But woe to you Pharisees! for you tithe mint and rue and every herb, and neglect justice and the love of God; these you ought to have done, without neglecting the others. (Luke 11:42 NRSVCE)”

            We see in Christ’s teaching, then, the need of love above all things, as the foundation to all else we do: “I desire mercy.” It is not the suffering itself or the sacrifice in and of itself. It is love that gives any credit at all, any merit, any value, to our sufferings and our sacrifices. “If I have not love, I am nothing … it profits me nothing,” as St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians. St. Thérèse de Lisieux wrote, “Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.” “Without love, deeds, even the most brilliant, count as nothing,” that Doctor of the Church wrote in another place.

God takes pleasure not in our pain, but in our love, through our faith and hope. When he sees our acts of love, in self-sacrifice, no matter how small or glorious, he takes great pleasure in that love – our love for others and for God, who is our life. These are pure offerings, through the one, holy sacrifice of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, who is love itself. “Father … All life, all holiness comes from you, through your Son,” the priest prays at Holy Mass. “For God is love. (1 John 4:8b)”

            And here we come to the turning point, the center of love – Christ himself. In him, we find something quite different from the “love” the rest of the world knows. The love of and from God is something much greater than previously known. That is, love demands sacrifice. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son. (John 3:16)” “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1 John 4:10 NRSVCE)”

            Therefore, Christ commanded us to love others as he has loved us; this is the new commandment. Now that he has shown us what true love, the love of God, looks like, he wants us to do the same. He wants us to “live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Eph. 5:2 NRSVCE)” Thus, St. John could write clearly, “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. (1 John 3:16 NRSVCE)” Above all these last writings, Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:13 NRSVCE)”

            Christ’s new command is woven throughout the rest of his teachings: feed the hungry; clothe the naked; care for the sick; die to your self; take up your cross; lose your life. Can these be construed as anything but acts of self-sacrifice in love of God and neighbor? In this Way, we can be little Christs (the Greek meaning of ‘Christians’) by offering our lives up to God in love for the good of others, even their salvation.

            The Memorial of the Immaculate Heart of Mary just passed (June 28^th). Let us go to our Mother, who is so pure, and learn from her. She led a very humble life, as a wife and mother. She gave up her reputation. She gave up her desires for comfort. She instead was the first disciple of Christ in love, by his grace, going even to the foot of the Cross. There she suffered a great martyrdom, and a sword pierced through her own heart, too. (Luke 2:35) She offered herself as a living sacrifice in the most perfect of ways, as an obedient daughter of the Lord, as his handmaid. From sweeping the floor and caring for her child to suffering alongside the Savior of the world, she gave her self in love to God perfectly. Her Immaculate Heart is the highest model of love after Christ our Lord, who laid down his life for us.

           

“Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. (Col. 3:14 NRSVCE)”

O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

Amen. +

The Abuse He Endured: Our Medicine

            This last week, I heard an audio recording of Archbishop (hopefully, soon to be Blessed) Fulton J. Sheen. In his talk on the humanity of Christ, he said, “God took his own medicine.” He was referring to Jesus in this statement. Jesus, the God-Man, who is the Great Physician, took his own medicine that he prescribed to the human race. What was that medicine? It was, and is, love itself.

            “By his wounds, you have been healed,” reads St. Peter’s first epistle. (2:24) The context of the verse, must not be ignored. St. Peter is writing to Christians to endure suffering patiently, while doing good in Christ. He is asking them to remember Christ’s sufferings. More than that, he writes in the beginning of the same passage, “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his footsteps. (1 Pet. 2:21 NRSVCE)”

            Here is the medicine in raw form: “Love one another as I have loved you. (John 13:34)” To his disciples, Jesus laid out the prescription in the new commandment. It is not an easy pill to swallow, and it certainly can’t be sugar coated. Logically, if we deny and ignore the medicine that we are to take ourselves for our healing, then we end up denying the same medicine that the Lord himself took (not for his healing, but for ours). I mean, as said the last post, “We cannot have Christ without the Cross.” Impossible.

            We cannot have love, mercy, justice, peace, hope, or healing for others or for ourselves if will not take up the cross ourselves. And Jesus, who is love itself and is the pioneer of our faith (Heb. 12:2), endured the cross to make the way for us. By accepting his Spirit in our baptisms, we have received the new life. That life is the life of love. True love means to do exactly what Christ did for us – to lay down his life for his friends.

            Christ lived as a human, tempted just as we are. Yet, he endured in obedience even to the point of a humiliating death on a cross. Christ lived in the flesh, taking on disabilities, diseases, demons and death itself. He was betrayed by his best friends, his chosen allies. They would not even keep company with him, while he sweat blood in anxious foresight of suffering. He was abandoned by them in the dead of night. He endured slanders and false accusations. He endured a brutal and near-mortal flogging. He was crushed under the weight of someone pressing a crown of thorns into his scalp, to the bone. He endured mocking, spitting, punches and blows, blasphemies, insults, and complete humiliation. Then, in almost complete exhaustion, he willingly carried his cross as commanded to the place of his own torture at the hands of Roman guards. Finally, he died in great agony, while even a criminal beside him, dying a similar, torturous and humiliating death, still had the pride to mock that innocent Christ.

            Now, imagine this terrible scene: In the midst of one of his best friends and his own mother, who is also enduring a great martyrdom (Luke 2:35) at the sight of her own son’s humiliation, torture and death-sentence … in the midst of women crying out of compassion and men screaming out of anger and hatred at him … while his flesh is torn over his back and arms, while his eye is swollen shut from blows, while his blood is spilled on the ground, while his sweat mingles with that blood, while his clothes have been stolen and his near nakedness revealed, while his heart breaks for compassion on poor, ill, and forgotten sinners, he looks at you under the weight of the cross itself, too heavy to carry alone. He says, “For you. I love you. Be healed. Follow me.”

            “Follow me.”

            “Love covers a multitude of sins. (1 Pet. 4:8)” “[…] Jesus also suffered outside the city gate in order to sanctify the people by his own blood. Let us then go to him outside the camp and bear the abuse he endured. (Heb. 13:12,13 NRSVCE)”

            Herein lies our complete and unimaginable healing. First, we are sanctified by his blood, washed clean, forgiven. Secondly, we are called to follow him in that perfect love, for God and for others. We are to walk in Christ’s footsteps, to give up our wills for the perfect will of God, which is always one of love. We are to pour out our lives as a living sacrifice of love for the people in our lives. This is what it means to be a saint.

It begins with the little things. It begins with the smiles, even when we don’t feel like it, like Blessed Mother Teresa used to tell us. It begins with the kind moments of generosity. It begins with the moments of keeping our mouths shut in silence, even when we are slandered or falsely accused. It begins in having mercy on others, even when they sin against us. It begins with performing our duties, even when tired. It begins, too, in a small prayer of thanksgiving to God despite any circumstances. For God is good, and he earnestly desires our healing and our peace.

           

            If you are reading this on the Feast of Corpus Christi (the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ), or you are to attend Mass soon, remember these things. Meditate on what it means for Christ to give you his precious, precious Body and Blood. He gave up his life, so that you may have it. And it is present, right there, in the Eucharist. He is Jesus, our Lord and our God. He is love.

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.

Body of Christ, save me.

Blood of Christ, inebriate me.

Water from the side of Christ, wash me.

Passion of Christ, strengthen me.

O good Jesus, hear me.

Within Thy wounds, hide me.

Separated from Thee let me never be.

From the malignant enemy, defend me.

At the hour of death, call me.

To come to Thee, bid me,

That I may praise Thee in the company

Of Thy Saints, for all eternity.

Amen. +

For some Scripture meditation, I encourage you to read Hebrews 12 and 13, as well as 1 Peter, especially chapters 1 and 2.

Suffering: How Sweet the Sound, Part II

... Continuation of Part I

            St. Paul wrote to Timothy, “Share in suffering like a good soldier of Christ Jesus. […] If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him. (2 Tim. 2:3,12-13 NRSVCE)” In 2 Thessalonians, he wrote, “Therefore we ourselves boast of you among the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith during all your persecutions and the afflictions that you are enduring. This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, and is intended to make you worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering. (1:4-5 NRSVCE)”

            Worthy of the kingdom of God? Yes! The story of the Gospel is so much grander than what most make it out to be. That is, Jesus does not want to merely forgive us of our sins and save our soul from death; he wants to draw us up into himself. He wants to make us partakers and worthy sharers in his power, his righteousness, his glory and even his work of redemption. He wants to make us worthy heirs of his kingdom. He wants to actually heal us in our entire being, to restore us to our original design. He wants to “hit the reset button,” so to speak, on humanity by his life, death and resurrection.

            Through his once-for-all sacrifice, and his resurrection, we are able to literally become like him. Our forgiveness is obtained in baptism. From there, we are new creations and placed in sanctifying grace, just as Adam and Eve were without original sin. (The reset button applied). So, then, by the indwelling of the Spirit (as mentioned in my last post), we become partakers in the divine nature (2 Pet. 1:4), and are given the power to be holy as he his holy. (1 Pet. 1:15-16)

St. Peter wrote, “Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same intention (for whoever has suffered in the flesh has finished with sin), so as to live for the rest of your earthly life no longer by human desires but by the will of God. (1 Pet. 4:1-2 NRSVCE)” Earlier, he wrote, “For it is a credit to you if, being aware of God, you endure pain while suffering unjustly. If you endure when you are beaten for doing wrong, what credit is that? But if you endure when you do right and suffer for it, you have God’s approval. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps. (1 Pet. 2:19-21)” Here, we can clearly see that not only is holiness possible to the point of being “finished with sin,” but also our suffering conforms us to his image and is our path to God.

When sin entered the world, so did suffering and death. Christ, though, became man, and took on the Enemy by using the very consequences and tools of evil to overcome evil itself. “He was obedient unto death. (Phil. 2:8)” First, he overcame sin by his obedience to the will of the Father. Then, he conquered suffering by enduring it willingly. Then, he overcame death by his resurrection. In doing all of this, he turned the very consequences of sin (suffering and death) into the means by which evil is conquered. The Cross itself, an instrument of suffering and death, became the source of our salvation and life.

This is true, not only in his Cross, but our crosses: “whoever does not take up his cross and follow me, is not worthy of me. (Matt. 10:38)” There it is again: “worthy!” Our crosses only have meaning in his Cross. Nevertheless, our crosses, too, are instruments of suffering; they are sources of suffering as we give up our will for the place of his will. We must “die to self,” and endure to the end. “For he will repay according to each one’s deeds: to those who by patiently doing good seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life. (Rom. 2:6-7 NRSVCE)” This is what the Church means by teaching that Christ redeemed suffering; he made our suffering to have saving value – for ourselves and for others.

By dying to self and taking up our crosses, we can grow closer to Christ, sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in obedience and holiness. We can also offer up that suffering as a sacrifice. So, St. Paul could write, “ I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church. (Col. 1:24 NRSVCE)” If we suffer in love, while doing good, we can offer every single pain to God through Jesus Christ, the Redeemer. And in the end, we will receive “an eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:(17)) that will be given once we hear, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”

Always, then, offer every moment of suffering to God the Father, through the Son, in the Holy Spirit. Never declare those who suffer to be worthless or without hope, for they, too, can receive an eternal weight of glory. No suffering is too great to be unredeemable. God can redeem all things through Christ our Lord and his Cross – even our greatest of trials, sufferings, and losses, especially when they are offered up in love to God.

As Pope Francis recently said, “We cannot have Christ without the Cross.” So, then, let us hear what the saints have told us and follow in their footsteps:

If God gives you an abundant harvest of trials, it is a sign of great holiness which He desires you to attain. Do you want to become a great saint? Ask God to send you many sufferings. The flame of Divine Love never rises higher than when fed with the wood of the Cross, which the infinite charity of the Savior used to finish His sacrifice. All the pleasures of the world are nothing compared with the sweetness found in the gall and vinegar offered to Jesus Christ. That is, hard and painful things endured for Jesus Christ and with Jesus Christ.

--Saint Ignatius of Loyola

If the soul would know the merit which one acquires in temptations suffered in patience and conquered, it would be tempted to say: "Lord, send me temptations.”

--St. Padre Pio

Let us understand that God is a physician, and that suffering is a medicine for salvation, not a punishment for damnation.

--St. Augustine

For Jesus Christ I am prepared to suffer still more.

--Saint Maximilian Kolbe