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Passive Waiting and Suffering Well

By Jeannie Ewing

We established that no one likes to wait and that a small fraction of our waiting experiences is what we term active, or Advent waiting. What, then, comprises the majority of those periods of life when we linger in tension, when we are in between or feeling stuck or lost?

Passive waiting is when we move from a place of knowing specifically that God will complete some good work He has begun in us to becoming entirely unaware and uncertain of what He is doing or asking of us. We move from subject to object in passive waiting. For example, if you are late to work and get stuck in the midst of unexpected construction, you are experiencing passive waiting. If you just had a biopsy and have to spent an agonizing week not knowing if you have cancer or not, you are in passive waiting.

These times when waiting is painful, when we do not choose to suffer, is precisely what makes life worthwhile. It’s not because of the suffering itself; it is because of what Passion gives birth to, that is, Resurrection. We know that suffering is not the end and that our tragedies can bring about beautiful blessings. But how do we understand passive waiting so that we can learn to suffer well, or at least better?

The Gift of Helplessness and Dependency

Maybe you or someone you know has recently become injured or suffered an accident that left him/her incapacitated. Maybe you have fallen ill with a terrible malady and simply cannot keep up your active lifestyle anymore. Maybe you are disabled.

These are all examples of the helpless state, whether temporary or permanent. And when we can’t move around like we’re used to – going to work, doing household chores, taking care of our families – we feel guilty, as if we are a burden. But God shows us the hidden gift of helplessness, because He deliberately sent His Son as an infant totally dependent on His Mother’s love and nourishment:

The popular imagination discerns nothing in God: no dependence, no waiting, no exposure, nothing of passion or passibility…and therefore, when these conditions appear in the life of man, they must appear fundamentally ‘ungodlike;’ and therefore again they must appear alien to the proper status of man and unworthy of his unique dignity. (W.H. Vanstone quote from Waiting with Purpose, p. 87)

So when you find yourself in a helpless state, know that you are not alone and that God longs to reach you in your suffering.

Preparing for Mission

When we suffer, we gain wisdom and life experience that cannot be replicated by books or rhetoric. Our experiences, then, shape us fundamentally. They make us stronger, more compassionate, and resilient. Even more, they lead us to mission.

You probably didn’t ask for your sickness or your child’s disability or your spouse’s Alzheimer’s. You didn’t want to lose a friend to addiction or a parent to cancer. Yet all of these atrocities can lead us to accompany others who are suffering similar afflictions. We are more equipped to handle their pain when we have already been through our own journey of grief.

Entering Your Resurrection

I learned something extraordinary while researching my book, Waiting with Purpose: all of the Greek verbs used to describe Jesus’ life and ministry were in the active tense until He was handed over in the Garden of Gethsemane. He spoke to His apostles at the Last Supper, “My work is finished” but immediately before expiring, “It is finished.” These are powerful examples of how working isn’t the be-all-end-all to life’s meaning and value.

Your true work is to suffer with Jesus and learn to suffer well. This doesn’t mean perfectly – just well. That means you will have moments when offering up your pain in solidarity with Jesus’ or someone else’s pain is effortless and other times when it’s impossible. The point is to keep moving forward in your own passion, knowing with confidence that your own Calvary journey will lead you to new life in Resurrection, whether in this life or the next.

This post was adapted from Chapter 6 in my book, Waiting with Purpose: Persevering When God Says “Not Yet.”

Text (c) Jeannie Ewing 2018, all rights reserved. Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

Read all posts by Jeannie Ewing Filed Under: Catholic Spirituality, Culture, Featured, Grief Resources, Prayer, Scripture Tagged With: grief, grief resources, redemptive suffering, suffering, waiting

Power Perfected in Weakness and Failure as a Pathway to Grace

By Lisa Mladinich

St. Paul speaks quite a bit about boasting!

In his second letter to the Corinthians, he mentions that he has been the recipient of many revelations and could well boast. After all, Jesus himself has spoken directly to Paul, on the road to Damascus. Paul is a beloved preacher and has won many souls for God. But instead of boasting of his achievements, which he recognizes as a distraction, he boasts because the Lord has permitted him to be a weak and troubled vessel. An “angel of Satan,” he says, torments his flesh.

Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. (2 Cor 12:8-9)

Here’s my weakness.

I rather casually gave up complaining for Lent, right at the last minute, because I hadn’t really given it much thought. But I know that I complain too much, so it seemed like a great idea, and honestly, I really didn’t expect it to be that hard.

But the Lord saw fit to allow me to go through a period of intense suffering that has consumed my Lent.

An old emotional wound that I thought was healed broke open and my life became profoundly dark. The pain was unrelenting and terrible. I was raw and weak. To say that I was overflowing with complaints and loss of temper is an understatement. I was a total mess for most of Lent, which got me going to confession a lot more than usual, which brought me more graces than usual.

The Crucifixion, Francisco de Zurbarán, 1627

In agony, I clung to Jesus and contemplated the cross. I was in desolation.

But that desolation is a privilege, according to the saints. Hard to accept, but it’s so revealing. I felt so intimate with Christ. One day, I looked up at the cross at Mass and the thought came to me, “He felt this. So it must be a good thing to feel.”

I didn’t get a rush of good feelings—the pain remained—but I had a deep sense of calm that I knew was His voice in my soul, and it has not left me.

And I learned something that is probably the biggest grace I’ve ever received in any Lent in all of my 58 years as a Catholic:

It was strangely empowering being so weak and so desperate.

I had nothing to boast about but the cross.

But may I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. (Gal 6:14)

Total failure was the place where Jesus met me, this Lent. Failure cleared away all my pride and showed me that the cross could truly be a place of victory.

In the eighth century, St. Andrew of Crete wrote that the cross is “both the sign of God’s suffering and the trophy of his victory” because the cross is “the means by which the devil was wounded and death conquered.”

Chris Tomlin sings a song called, “At the Cross,” and my favorite line says that the cross is “a place where sin and shame are powerless.”

Jesus rendered my sin and my shame powerless: through the cross, through the consecration, and through reconciliation. So that when I was weakest, I received a gift that I don’t think I would have received if I were having a “perfect” Lent and feeling good about myself.

Yesterday, I was at an RCIA review session, and one of the team members was describing the moment of the consecration, at Mass, when the priest elevates the host. She told the catechumens that as we enter into the one-time sacrifice of the cross, Jesus is lifted up and offered to the Father for all of our sins, for all time.

But she added that, as baptized members of the Body of Christ, at the moment of the consecration, we too are lifted up and offered to the Father, and that bestows on us an astounding dignity.

In Holy Week, we will walk with Jesus through the failures of those he loves. Contemplate his response when the apostles all flee him and when Peter denies him three times. Jesus never stops working to save them.

Even the crucified thief, who squandered his life in sin–St. Dismas, whose feast day was today (March 25)–received the gift of paradise that very day. Why? Because, in the depths of his failure, St. Dismas recognized that he needed mercy and that Jesus was the Lord. And the response of Jesus went beyond his wildest imaginings. Paradise. THAT DAY.

My major offering for Lent was to avoid complaining. During the previous five weeks, I have complained more than I have in many years. To say that I failed is an understatement. My sin of complaint and ingratitude was magnified; it exploded and expanded and became epic in its power to color my days.

And yet, that sense of powerlessness drew me closer to God and increased my trust. At a particularly low moment, when the pain was almost unbearable, I felt God urging me to count blessings—which felt like sprinkling a thimbleful of water on a blazing fire. To turn my thoughts away from complaint and refocus on what was beautiful in my life was like walking head-on into a hurricane. I recognize that this powerful resistance within me was partly my own weakness and sin but also a sign of a spiritual battle taking place in my soul.

And yet, when I yielded grudgingly and started counting the beauty of the day, my comfortable home, my family and friends, my health—simple things—strength returned, and my mind began to clear. What had seemed unrelentingly dark faded and receded. It was like breaking a spell.

Our failures can bring us closer to God; they can make us more aware of our dependence, more ardent in prayer, and more childlike.

It is not the failure He focuses on; it is the disposition of our hearts.

Are we reaching for him? Learning from our falls? Resting in mercy?

For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten Son, that believers would not perish but would have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Read all posts by Lisa Mladinich Filed Under: Catholic Spirituality, Featured, Lisa's Updates, RCIA & Adult Education, Scripture, Theology Tagged With: Chris Tomlin, Holy Week, St. Dismas, suffering, the cross of Jesus Christ

The Best Way to Handle Suffering is to EAT it !

By Gabe Garnica

SONY DSC

 

Been There, Done That?

We all feel acquainted enough with suffering to fancy ourselves authorities on the subject. Certainly, whether we admit it or not, we mingle much of the suffering in our lives with equal parts resentment, bitterness, anger, and whining.  In fact, we often add cries of injustice as a frosting to this exercise in self.  Look, I do not pretend for a second that many people have not experienced more than their fair share of terrible suffering, injustice, and pain.  Neither do I dare ignore the fact that many people seem to fall from one misfortune to another while others seemingly dance through life like privileged elites immune to tears and fears.  I have an aunt, for example, whose life has been nothing but a series of illnesses, bad breaks, and unfair results.  She ended up in a wheelchair at an early age and things have only gotten worse since then, leaving her practically blind today as well.

Unfairness is Part of Life

The reality is that people experience different kinds and levels of suffering, completely independent of their relative goodness, innocence, fault, or success.  Some already happy, healthy, and successful people never seem to suffer; while many depressed, unhealthy, and unlucky folks seem to only receive more suffering on top of their present struggles.

Saints certainly do not have a get-out-of –jail card when it comes to suffering.   Most of them experienced one difficulty after another, a litany of misfortunes, and enough unfairness to last a few lifetimes.  The fact that being closer to God often only means suffering more than others only adds to this whole perception of suffering as random unfairness  inflicted on us by a God munching on popcorn while we cry.

Follow the Leader

It is at this point, when we are almost ready to toss up our hands in disgust and refuse to participate any further in this seemingly twisted game of pain, however, that we need to pause, take a reality check, and get a grip. First, let us consider that Our Lord, the most innocent and faultless person that ever lived, suffered far more than any human ever will, for sins He did not commit, at the hands and accusations of people steeped in sin themselves.  Second, note that Christ did not let this stupendous injustice deter Him from exhibiting forgiveness, kindness, and compassion toward even those who caused His suffering. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, realize that Our Lord provided us with the most powerful and effective strategy for transcending suffering, and even using it as a vehicle for sanctification and salvation. Simply stated, and promoted by such greats of our Faith as St. Alphonsus Liguori, that strategy is to EAT the suffering in our lives.

E………….First, we must embrace whatever suffering comes our way just as Christ embraced His cross.  Anne Catherine Emmerich, the great mystic, even wrote that Our Lord kissed His cross upon receiving it. Being a Christian means following Christ, and following Christ means following Him as we carry our relatively small crosses.  We cannot carry our crosses if we do not embrace them upon receiving them. We can never accept something unless we first embrace it and hold it. In the context of suffering, then, we must first pick up our crosses and embrace them if we pretend to emulate He who willingly embraced His cross. Embracing in this context is more the physical and actual interaction with the suffering that faces us. The cancer patient who follows the doctor’s orders and undergoes the numerous tests and procedures instead of sitting home avoiding what is necessary to do is a prime example of someone who is embracing suffering rather than avoiding it.

A…………Second, we must move beyond merely embracing our suffering and learn to accept it.  Embracing and accepting in this context do not mean the same thing.  Simon embraced Christ’s cross, but unwillingly at first. St. Catherine Emmerich tells us that, as Simon connected with Who Christ was and what He was doing, he came to feel compassion for Him and more willingly embraced the task he had initially accepted by force.   When the above cancer patient moves beyond merely undergoing tests to refraining from crying “Why me” or cursing at everyone in sight, acceptance has begun.

T…………Once we have truly embraced and accepted the suffering that comes our way, out of a desire to please God or avoid offending Him, we need to move to the next and final phase in confronting suffering with an eye toward Heaven. In order to sanctify our suffering, we must transform that suffering from a bad thing we tolerate into a good thing we relish.  No, I have not lost my mind, but if we do not take this final step we may well lose our chance to use our earthly sufferings as the steps toward Heaven.

Three Step Toward Sanctification and Salvation

Embracing suffering is akin to willingly going to a drug store, buying, and then drinking unpleasant medicine.  It is an external compliance, acknowledgement, and consent to the need to take that medicine, regardless of how unpleasant that medicine may be.  Accepting that suffering, however, goes beyond that.  It occurs when we internalize the external compliance and move from merely going through the motions to avoid trouble, criticism, or looking bad. This is akin to taking the unpleasant medicine regularly as prescribed because we turn the task into a desired habit toward the goal of becoming better. Likewise, when we internalize suffering and see it as a chance for grace and sanctification, we have begun to accept that suffering as something useful, albeit unpleasant, which is better than bitterly cursing it.

The final, and most important step, however, is when we transform suffering from something unpleasant we tolerate for a purpose into something blessed and privileged that we relish as a gift from God.  You heard it right, suffering in this world is a gift from God that few ever embrace, accept, much less transform.

 

The Sacred Secret to Transforming Suffering

The secret to transforming suffering from a tolerated unpleasant chore into a relished pleasant blessing is not to be found in human nature or experience, for our weak and superficial humanity is incapable of ever truly rejoicing in the face of pain, suffering, misfortune, or mistreatment. In fact, human nature dictates just the opposite and, more often than not, suggests that we gripe, curse, blame, play the victim card, experience envy, or seek revenge.  Sadly, human nature would have us lose whatever graces we may have been able to scrape from tolerating suffering for the sake of our eternal salvation.  Few of us, if any, have the dedication, strength, and resolve to tolerate unpleasantness for so long and for such a wavering reason.  How then, did the saints do it?  Was it because they possessed some supernatural, inner gift that we are incapable of finding within ourselves?  Gladly, the answer is that we each possess the secret strategy to follow in the steps of the saints to transform suffering from a tolerated unpleasant thing into a desired blessing.

As described by Alphonsus Liguori and Fulton Sheen, the secret is to simply accept everything, good and bad, that happens in your life as coming from God for a purpose perhaps only known to Him which is consistent with your salvation and mission in life.  More often than not our gripes, complaints, and distaste for suffering come from seeing it from our own temporary, temporal, and personal perspective. However, if we view suffering and misfortune as coming from God for God’s ultimate purpose and truly love and trust God as always doing what is right by us, then we will obtain greater peace, contentment, patience, and solace than ever possible on our own terms!

Conclusion

Even Our Lord allowed His humanity to pause in the face of suffering, going as far as asking if the cup reserved for Him could be avoided.  However, Our Lord, and countless saints after Him, ultimately viewed suffering, not as an unpleasant chore to be tolerated for the sake of avoiding evil but, much more pleasantly and powerfully, as a blessed opportunity for following the Will of God, as Our Lord exemplified at Gethsamane and Calvary.

For us mere mortals, moreover, suffering in this world should rightly be seen as a chance to pay the debt of our sins in this life rather than in eternity where, if we play our cards right, we will enjoy the rewards of loyalty and dedication to God.  Thus, it is true that the secret to turning suffering into a blessing is to EAT that suffering.  Ultimately, suffering will move us farther from God if it becomes about us and closer to God if we turn it into all about following God’s Will.

2016  Gabriel Garnica

Read all posts by Gabe Garnica Filed Under: Spiritual Warfare, Theology, Therapeutic Tagged With: fulton sheen, St. Alphonsus Liguori, St. Catherine Emmerich, suffering

To those who feel alone…

By Maureen Smith

512px-Children's_Chapel_-_National_Cathedral_-_DCEvery first Friday at my office there is a holy hour at the end of the day. I rarely get the opportunity to go to adoration, so this is a time of great grace for me when I am able to attend.

When I entered the chapel last Friday I saw something that made me feel sorrow for the Heart of Jesus. I was one of three people who came to adore him that afternoon. I didn’t feel any sort of judgment for those who could not make this prayer time, but the Lord revealed to me the loneliness of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

How many times have I rushed past the Chapel thinking of the next thing, or how many excuses have I made for not spending just a moment in prayer?

How many times have I felt the great pain of loneliness and have forgotten what the Lord felt in his Agony, his Passion and his Death?

“In order to be like You, who are always alone in the Blessed Sacrament, I shall love solitude and try to converse with You as much as possible.”

These are the words of Saint Margaret Mary Alocoque who understood well the sorrowful Heart of Jesus that knows abandonment and rejection.

St_Margaret_Mary_Alacoque_Contemplating_the_Sacred_Heart_of_JesusBut what are we to offer to the Lord? I feel I am unable to do anything without adding to the sorrows of Jesus, seeing my sinfulness and many weaknesses. But discouragement and any thoughts contrary to those that draw us to the Feet of Jesus are not of God. Hiding in shame and self-punishment are never what God asks, but rather repentence and returning to the Lord, even (and especially) if we come with our own sorrows and hurts.

This is what we are to offer Him, our own hearts that he desires to place within his heart–in order to heal and redeem the parts that we thought hopeless or unworthy of Him.

This kind of prayer, this being alone with the one who is alone is incredibly freeing, even if it is painful. It means acknowledging our lowliness, our inability to be “great” in any worldly sense, and admitting that all of our efforts in this life would be meaningless…except that He dwells in them and makes this life worth living through the redemption He offers.

Praying_statue._Church_of_the_Holy_Sepulchre,_Jerusalem_031_-_Aug_2011We can only have hope in this life with him because without Him there would be no point to everything we do. Our faith tells us that not only is there hope and meaning to life, but even joy in suffering and death. In them we are reborn into Eternal Life with our God, the life in which we are invited to participate at Baptism, a reality which comes most alive in the union we call prayer.

When you feel alone, let it become an opportunity to open the door to the Heart of Christ rather than to dispair or discouragement. He is always alone with you.

 

Read all posts by Maureen Smith Filed Under: Culture, Evangelization, General, Prayer Tagged With: adoration, alone, blessed sacrament, discouragement, Eucharist, heart of jesus, lonliness, Love, prayer, saint margaret mary, suffering, union

The Other Mary at the Foot of the Cross

By Mary Lou Rosien

I had been struggling with my husband’s illness. He is in horrific pain, several times a day, every day. My darling husband is a strong Catholic man. He is a wonderful husband and father. He is a devout Christian and he has suffered for many years. I went to the sacrament of reconciliation and confessed my frustration with God’s plan in all this. “Why doesn’t God will his healing?” I complained, “Show me how I can be patient, knowing that God is using this to work out my husband’s salvation?”

My wise confessor asked me to meditate on Mary Magdalene at the foot of the cross. I have a special affinity for this particular saint. Our lives have seemed parallel at times to me. It has been difficult for me to recognize Jesus sometimes, just as Mary struggled outside the tomb. As a catechist, I run to tell others about the risen Lord!! I took the advice seriously, went to Adoration and focused on the foot of the cross.

Mary Magdalene’s brother (Lazarus) had died and Jesus had raised him days later. The crucifixion must have seemed confusing to her. She, better than most, truly understood the power the Lord possessed! She knew He could come down off the cross anytime He wanted. She too must have wondered how this plan was going to work out, however, Mary had something that I was lacking…trust.

I can’t imagine how much she loved him. I can only try to picture what it was like to stand at the foot of the cross and see your Savior, your friend, being crucified. She must have wanted to scream. I presume that her heart was breaking as she wondered how long this would continue, but still, she trusted.

I love my husband. I hate to see him suffer. I must trust, as Mary Magdalene did, that God has a plan that is too wonderful for me to comprehend. Perhaps, one day in heaven, I will be shown the souls my husband’s suffering had a part in saving? Until heaven, I will cry, hope and trust, just like Saint Mary Magdalene.

*read more about St. Mary Magdalene (Feast day July 22nd) at https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=83

freeimages.com/Derek Boggs

freeimages.com/Derek Boggs

Read all posts by Mary Lou Rosien Filed Under: General, Liturgical, Prayer Tagged With: Catholic, pain, redemptive suffering, suffering

Don’t be a Whiner!

By Christopher Smith, OP

The title of this post must seem a bit strange.  It becomes a bit stranger still when you consider the one telling you not to be a whiner is not me, but Pope Francis!

He said it (basically) during his homily on Tuesday, May 7th, while reflecting on today’s first reading from the Book of Acts, Chapter 16, where Paul and Silas are in prison yet they are joyful, even “singing hymns to God!”  Imagine that!  Being in prison and yet finding a voice to sing joyfully unto the Lord (cf. Ps 95:1).  I know there are plenty of times when I find myself in far less precarious situations than being in prison and I struggle to even pray, much less sing a hymn of praise.

The Holy Father said in his homily (my emphasis added):

“When the difficulties arrive, so do temptations. For example, the complaint: ‘Look what I have to deal with … a complaint. And a Christian who constantly complains, fails to be a good Christian: they become Mr. or Mrs. Whiner, no? Because they always complain about everything, right? Silence in endurance, silence in patience. That silence of Jesus: Jesus in His Passion did not speak much, only two or three necessary words … But it is not a sad silence: the silence of bearing the Cross is not a sad silence. It is painful, often very painful, but it is not sad. The heart is at peace. Paul and Silas were praying in peace. They were in pain, because then it is said that the jailer washed their wounds while they were in prison – they had wounds – but endured in peace. This journey of endurance helps us deepen Christian peace, it makes us stronger in Jesus.”

Not only does Pope Francis say that people who constantly complain can become “Mr. or Mrs. Whiner,” but they “fail to be a good Christian.”  Wow!  Talk about cutting through all the excess and getting down to the heart of the matter.

But suffering is not something new to God’s people, nor is it news to God that his people suffer.  He knows, understands, and acts decisively in the midst of his people’s suffering in order to bring about their good (cf. Rom 8:28).  For example, consider God’s intervention on behalf of the people of Israel:

Then the LORD said, “I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters; I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the place of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites (Ex 3:7-8).

The Holy Father reminded those at Mass this morning (and by extension all of us) that Christians are to be imitators of him who moves to relieve his people’s suffering and therefore Christians are to act decisively to relieve the suffering of others (cf. Mt 5:48 and Mt 10:8). Consider the following quotation from The Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church (my emphasis added):

The Church, “since her origin and in spite of the failing of many of her members, has not ceased to work for their relief, defence and liberation through numerous works of charity which remain indispensable always and everywhere.” Prompted by the Gospel injunction, “You have received without paying, give without pay” (Mt 10:8), the Church teaches that one should assist one’s fellow man in his various needs and fills the human community with countless works of corporal and spiritual mercy. “Among all these, giving alms to the poor is one of the chief witnesses to fraternal charity: it is also a work of justice pleasing to God,” even if the practice of charity is not limited to alms-giving but implies addressing the social and political dimensions of the problem of poverty. In her teaching the Church constantly returns to this relationship between charity and justice: “When we attend to the needs of those in want, we give them what is theirs, not ours.  More than performing works of mercy, we are paying a debt of justice.”(#184).

One of the things I like most about Pope Francis so far is the simplicity of his language.  Don’t get me wrong, I still really enjoy the mysticism in the writings of Blessed Pope John Paul II, and the deep theological language employed by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, but with Pope Francis you don’t have to spend a lot of time wondering what he was saying; you just have to think about how to apply it.  In closing, check out this example from his homily today (my emphasis added):

And the Lord invites us to this: to be rejuvenated Easter people on a journey of love, patience, enduring our tribulations and also – I would say – putting up with one another. We must also do this with charity and love, because if I have to put up with you, I’m sure you will put up with me and in this way we will move forward on our journey on the path of Jesus.

Easy to understand…tough to put into practice!

Read all posts by Christopher Smith, OP Filed Under: Culture Tagged With: almsgiving, Pope Francis I, reflection, suffering

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