The Die is Cast ...

Watching the news these past few days, and thinking back over the past year of headlines, I feel a tremendous sadness.  We head farther and farther away from God, with many openly thumbing their noses at Him in internet comboxes.  I think my sadness is that of Jesus as He approached His beloved city:

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. Look, your house is left to you desolate. I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'" (Luke 13:34-35)

He saw the choices she had made, could read the ones she was about to, and knew how it would end.  And yet, He continued to speak out - and He charged the Apostles to continue speaking out after His Resurrection.  In the end, you and I will not be judged on how successful our efforts were; but upon our faithfulness to the call.  And the only way I can see of remaining joyful is to keep our eyes fixed firmly on the Prize that has been promised, knowing that in the midst of the Trinity all the trials and persecutions we suffered in life will melt immediately away.  More than that, God will look upon our endurance of them as beautiful expressions of our love.

"Redemptive Suffering" in Christianity's Earliest Writings

Being sick this past week has given me additional time to re-read Ignatius of Antioch's seven epistles (c.110 A.D.).  They are easy to locate online (free of charge). I have really profited from Dr. Kenneth Howell's new translation and commentary, Ignatius of Antioch & Polycarp of Smyrna.  One of the elements I have found most intriguing in his analysis of Ignatius's epistles is the presence of what later theology terms redemptive suffering.  

By "redemptive suffering," I mean the belief that the sufferings God allows into our lives, when accepted and lived with trust in His love for us, participate in the sufferings of the Crucified; and the grace we receive to participate in Jesus' sufferings are of benefit not just to us, but the entire Body of Christ.  In the past I shared my conviction that this belief is found in the writings of St. Paul and witnessed to both in our Eucharistic belief and our Blessed Mother's earthly life.  

Dr. Howell helps us follow this thread from Paul through the Church's earliest days.  Chapter two of his book is devoted to Ignatius's theology of martyrdom.  I have read two other translations of Ignatius's epistles, but no one before Dr. Howell pointed out the literal translation of Ignatius's Greek term, antipsuchon - "substitute soul."  To put it in context, here is Ignatius's usage in his epistles to the Smyrneans and Polycarp, respectively:  "My spirit and my bonds are your substitute soul"; "I and my bonds that you love are your substitute soul in every way."  Listen to Dr. Howell's commentary here, "[Ignaitus's] sharing in the passion of Christ serves to advance the spiritual welfare of those to whom he writes since he is their 'substitute soul' (antipuschon).  Since in his mind Ignatius's martyrdom began while still in chains, he is conscious that it is for more than his own salvation" (p.13-14).

I should also note how Ignatius witnessed to a "give-and-take" within the Communion of Saints, with all grace flowing from Christ Jesus, "Now pray for me as I need the love [emanating] from you in the mercy of God to make me worthy of the lot which I am set to obtain.  Pray that I may not be found unapproved."  And this truth extends beyond earth into the life of heaven, "My spirit makes you pure not only now but also when I attain to God" (Epistle to Polycarp).  

St. Ignatius of Antioch, participant in the sufferings of Christ on behalf of the Church (Col.1:24), pray for us!

A Palm Sunday Parallel

It is a snowy Palm Sunday, and I just finished re-reading the Martyrdom of Polycarp (written c.155 A.D.).  After the Acts of the Apostles' recounting of the martyrdom of Stephen, MoP is the earliest Christian writing focused on the martyrdom of an individual.  Polycarp was an amazing figure by all accounts - instructed and ordained bishop of Smyrna by the Apostle John, he spent over half his life in ordained service to the Church; and he finished strong.  

When told that his life would be spared if he but swear by Caesar and curse Christ, he responded, "Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He never did me any injury: how then can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour?  ... You threaten me with fire which burns for an hour, and after a little is extinguished, but you are ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and of eternal punishment, reserved for the ungodly. Why do you hesitate? Bring forth what you will."

Polycarp's courage at that moment was a participation in Jesus' own when facing the Cross - and God did not want the Church or the world to miss that truth:  the magistrate who had Polycarp hunted and taken into custody bore the name Herod, and he had Polycarp led into the city on a donkey - like Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

Thoughts (Some, Goofy) from the Sick Bed

I have felt worse this past week than I have in years.  On Sunday, I thought I was a little worn down; so I spent the day on the couch.  By that night the croup-like cough kicked in and then by Monday afternoon it was full-blown fever, chills, body aches - the whole shebang.  It's Thursday now, and I am finally fever free; I still sound like I am going to cough up a lung, but I am fever free!  And in the spirit of pushing off (for at least another 10 minutes) the arduous process of wiping down the house with bleach and Lysol, here are some of the thoughts/realizations I've had this week:

1. As appealing as becoming a hermit may sometimes seem, I need human contact way too much to make a go of that.
2. The ring of the telephone is not always a bad thing.
3. St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote about redemptive suffering and the Communion of Saints way back in 110 A.D.
4. My pain tolerance is pitiful.
5. If it's a choice between watching Dr. Phil, Ellen, or Wendy ... just turn off the television.
6. When you're awake at 3 a.m., anxious over all of the tasks piling up at work and home, the Rosary might not put you back to sleep; but it will give you peace.
7. I am not nearly grateful enough on the 350-some days of the year when I feel "middle of the road" - those days are tremendous gifts.
8. It is possible to miss working out. 
9. Sickness isn't a waste if we tell Jesus that we want to join our discomfort to His on the Cross; it turns the sickness into a prayer.
10. Did I mention how hard it is to watch daytime television?
11. It's good to ask God for help, and it's good to pray for one another.
12. When you feel bad, it helps to stop and intentionally place yourself in God's Hands.  Get a clear picture of it in your mind.  When we're sick for a length of time our perspective becomes skewed, and we need to remind ourselves of reality.  
13. There are countless brothers and sisters dealing with so much more than me - "God, please help them."  

  


 

0.34 Seconds - That's All It Takes

0.34 Seconds - the time it takes to blink your eye; that's as quickly as everything can change for the better.  When I prayed the Rosary this morning, I meditated on Jesus' Resurrection, putting myself in his tomb.  One second He was there, wrapped in His shroud.  And in the next second, with a brilliant flash of light, the shroud lay flat on the stone slab; He was gone.  That's how quickly God can change defeat into victory.  

We have little glimpses of this throughout life.  Think of those times when the phone has rang with a surprise invitation, or you ran into someone you hadn't seen in months; or you got an email out of the blue.  One moment everything was moving along as ho-hum as usual and then boom - you're like a rocket shooting into the stratosphere.  Life is not just one long struggle, carrying the Cross up Calvary; it's also shot through with these experiences of the Resurrection -and we never know when the Lord will surprise us next.

What we know for sure is that each second brings us closer to that instant when "we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.  For the trumpet will sound and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed" (1 Cor. 15:51-52).

That Tight-Lipped Jesus ...

So here is a stream-of-consciousness post for you.  Stay with me though, there is a point:

On the drive to work today I was praying the Rosary and meditating on the Lord's Resurrection.  I was thinking of the women at Jesus' tomb.  Nothing could have prepared them for the absolute shock of the empty tomb - and definitely not for their encounter with the Resurrected Jesus.  I was struck how you and I are often so completely in the dark about all of the good things that God is doing behind the scenes, completely surprised when they break out into the light.  God seems to work in silence; He doesn't make us privy to His plans - just shocks us with their awesomeness.

Wait, that's not quite right.  Hadn't Jesus told His disciples, over and over, that He would be rejected by the chief priests and elders and be raised on the third day?  Yes, He had; but they didn't understand.  Jesus had told them exactly what was going to happen.  His crucifixion shouldn't have come as a shock - and neither should His Resurrection!

And here is what Jesus says to you and me.  We should listen closely so that we're not caught off-guard:

“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (Jn.16:33).
  
Fore-warned is fore-armed.  We will suffer the Cross.  And if we stay united with Him, we will experience His Resurrection.

The only truly "God-forsaken" place on earth

Alright, the title is a bit of literary flourish - it got your attention though, didn't it?  Because of God's immanence He is present to us absolutely anywhere.  I'm looking to get at another deep truth in this post though, one that a pastor shared with me twenty some years ago, and that returned to me while praying the Rosary last night:

Innermost chamber of Jesus' tomb

I was fourteen years old, just a year into seriously trying to live as a disciple.  My parish's new pastor, Fr. Bernard Wilkins, gave a slideshow presentation of his pilgrimage to Jerusalem.  I will never forget what he said when he came to Jesus' tomb within the Holy Sepulchre, "I put my head in to look and emerged . . . disappointed.  I realized that I had been expecting, at least unconsciously, to experience Jesus' presence there, but I felt nothing.  Then it occurred to me, 'the tomb is the one place you won't find Him'!"  Perhaps it was his guardian angel, repeating the question posed by his angelic comrades on the morning of the Resurrection, "Why do you seek the Living One among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen!" (Lk.24:5).

The Resurrection, and the coming of the Holy Spirit, is what transformed the Apostles into men of boldness.  The same Jesus Who had been raised to life after suffering death lived within them.  They were not crippled by threats of financial hardship, physical suffering, or martyrdom because they knew that "He who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit who dwells in you" (Rom.8:11).

Jesus' empty tomb is what allows us, today, to say, "If God is for us, then who cares who's against us?"  (my paraphrase of Rom.8:31)