Breaking Open the Word - 22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A – August 30th, 2020

This Sunday’s readings really struck a chord in our Passionist hearts! All of them, in different ways, speak of the mystery of the Cross in the life of believers, as well as the way God works through our personal suffering to bring about miracles of His grace. It is our particular mission in the Church, as well as our great joy, to teach people in our deeply wounded world how their pain has meaning when united with the Passion of Christ.

We began by discussing the prophet Jeremiah’s passionate lament: “You have duped me, Lord, and I let myself be duped.” He cries out that God is “too strong for me,” veritably forcing him to proclaim the dire prophetic message. As we were speaking, one Sister remarked wryly that, at times, she wishes the Lord would be too strong for her! Many faithful Christians can agree – things would be so much easier if God would just take the reins and put an end to our putting obstacles in the way of His Will! As it turns out, He does do this at times, particularly when we are facing challenges that are, humanly speaking, impossible for us to surmount. But even in “overpowering” us with His grace in such situations, He doesn’t usually give a spiritual “anesthetic” to numb the pain.

So why does God allow us to still feel the weight of our sufferings, even when He is helping us to carry our Cross after Him? One Sister pointed out that this is a way the Lord keeps us grounded in humility. Sinful creatures that we are, the moment we feel victorious in some challenge, we are liable to attribute it to our own efforts. By permitting us to feel our weakness even when He is helping us, God helps us to recognize that all our strength comes from Him. Furthermore, the Cross is never “pretty” in this life – we can say many eloquent words about its power and beauty, but suffering is ultimately a messy reality. Part of “mystical death”, so praised by St. Paul of the Cross as a means to “divine rebirth,” is dying to our ideal of carrying the Cross triumphantly. The more the Lord allows us to suffer in union with Him, the more we realize that the power of the Cross lies in the love – not the perfection! – with which it is carried. After all, didn’t Christ Himself fall three times on the way to Calvary?

Drawing on the Gospel, another Sister brought up what may be the hardest cross of all to carry: watching others suffer. St. Peter repeatedly professes his own love for Christ and insists that he would lay down his life for Him. In the Garden of Gethsemane, the Apostle even draws his sword to defend his Master in a burst of courage. And if all discipleship had meant was laying down his own life, perhaps Peter could have done it! But when faced with the prospect of seeing Jesus suffer and die, the chief Apostle balks and declares, “God forbid, Lord!” Like Peter, we can often be braver in facing our own pain than that of others. While the suffering is just within ourselves, we may have an illusion of control, at least for a while: “I can just grit my teeth and get through this.” But when we witness suffering in others, particularly those we love deeply, we can be quickly faced with our own powerlessness to help them. Jesus, of course, knows all of this – but He does not back down. Yes, it will be enormously difficult for Peter and the other disciples to witness Christ’s Passion, but it is an utterly essential element of the Father’s plan. Only by sharing His pain will they be able to grasp the full meaning and glory of the Resurrection.

Of course, we all know that Peter and the Apostles failed in this regard, only coming to a real understanding of the Paschal Mystery after Easter Sunday. But there was one of Jesus’ disciples who did learn the lesson and stayed with Him to the bitter end and beyond: Mary, the Mother of Sorrows. There is no greater suffering for a mother than to see one of her children die, and yet this was precisely the sacrifice that the Eternal Father asked of Our Lady. She was to be the “helpmate” of Christ in redeeming the world, and as such she had to share His Passion most intimately. And just as she pronounced her fiat in the Annunciation, she pronounced it again at the foot of the Cross, accepting the Father’s mysterious plan with all the trust and faith in her Immaculate Heart. As a result of this profound cooperation with the mystery of the Cross, Our Lady now shares more than any other human person in the glory of the Resurrection.

Queen of Martyrs and Spiritual Mother of the human race, pray for us!