Catholicism, holiness and spirituality

Learning from Suffering

A couple days ago I jumped ahead to read the scriptures for this Sunday. The second reading, from Hebrews, is the one that caught my attention, and it's been stuck in my head for a while now:

Have you forgotten that encouraging text in which you are addressed as sons? My son, when the Lord corrects you, do not treat it lightly; but do not get discouraged when he reprimands you. For the Lord trains the ones that he loves and he punishes all those that he acknowledges as his sons. Suffering is part of your training; God is treating you as his sons. Has there ever been any son whose father did not train him? Of course, any punishment is most painful at the time, and far from pleasant; but later, in those on whom it has been used, it bears fruit in peace and goodness. So hold up your limp arms and steady your trembling knees and smooth out the path you tread; then the injured limb will not be wrenched, it will grow strong again.

Hebrews 12:5 – 13

After I read this, I reflected back on the suffering in my life. I really don't like suffering – who does!? If you had a choice between a happy marriage and a troubled one, which would you choose? Income security or income instability? A satisfying and rewarding job or a mundane, uninspiring job? Healthy spouse and kids or not? A safe and secure neighborhood, or one where shots ring out in the middle of the day? They are all simple choices, but we don't always have the choice. Sometimes, things just happen and we end up suffering. We make bad decisions and suffer as a result of them; other people do things that cause us to suffer; and then there's our encounters with the evil of the world that leave us hurting and suffering. I don't believe that God wants, intends or causes us to suffer. But suffering happens because the world and all of us in it are imperfect.

The scripture's analogy to the father-son relationship also stirred some reflection in me, particularly because I'm the father of two sons (ages 12 & 13). I do my best to keep from causing them to suffer, and I work hard to support our family so none of us suffer. But you know, suffering happens anyway. None of us want it, or like it, but it is unavoidable. And it also provides some great learning opportunities for us all. As my sons grow and experience more of the world, they inevitably encounter some situations where they feel some suffering, and with support from me and my wife they will work their way through it and come out on the other end as stronger, richer, and deeper young men. I really do believe that God wants to help and support us through our suffering too, and provided we're open to it we will grow stronger in all kinds of ways.

Provided we're open to God's support... that's the catch, isn't it? If we call on God only when we are asking for help then that's kind of a one-sided relationship. If you only called on your friends when you needed help, that wouldn't be a very healthy relationship. They wouldn't really know you, and you wouldn't really know them. You would have a harder time communicating. But if we've been talking with God all along, good times and bad, then we will be more receptive of God's support when it comes along. We'll know it when we feel it, when we see it. The assurance of an old friend, with whom we've shared our greatest joys and disappointments, is irreplaceable.

Responding to the gifts

I like all the little wisdom-sayings in Luke's Gospel. Today's Gospel reading ends with one of my favorites, the bottom line answer to Peter's question 'Lord, do you mean this parable for us, or for everyone?':

When a man has had a great deal given him, a great deal will be demanded of him.

Through the years I have thought about that quite a bit. I've pretty much felt very blessed, receiving many gifts from God, for most of my adult life. Sure there have been some hard times, and some times I've felt distant from God, but the blessings have far outweighed all that. God has been so good to me, so now what can I do for God?

That sounds almost silly; after all, God can do anything God wants to do. But I suppose there are a few things I can do. I can be grateful; I can share what I have; I can reflect that grace and those blessings to the rest of the world; I can put all that to work in following God's will for my life. I can use my free will, which is a gift, to choose those things that lead me closer to God. Maybe that's what God is demanding from me, that I use all I am and all that is given to me as tools to advance the Kingdom of God.

So the question of the day is what am I really doing about all this? How am I using these gifts from God to advance God's mission for the world?

Parishes

This past weekend we went to a different parish for Mass. My brother's family was visiting us, and since they had to leave early Sunday morning, we went to Mass on Saturday evening. But my parish doesn't have a Saturday Vigil Mass, so we went to the local mega-parish down the road.

I live in the eastern suburbs of Cincinnati, home to a couple of the largest parishes in the archdiocese. As this area went through some explosive growth in the 70's and 80's, these parishes expanded to help meet the need. You could fit five of my parish churches in the one we went to on Saturday. I think there's a certain size beyond which we really start to lose something, some intimacy perhaps. Larger churches make it easier for people to remain more or less anonymous, and that doesn't seem to fit with the idea of 'being church.'

This is one of those parishes where new priests go to train under an experienced one prior to getting their own parish, and the new priest had this Mass. His sermon just didn't hit home with me at all; he read it from paper and it just didn't have any passion or human-touch to it. And he had a deacon working with him. I understand there are certain parts of the Mass that he can say vs. the priest; but all that back-and-forth just doesn't work for me.

The music was good and the liturgy would make the GIRM-groupies happy (i.e. - it was all done technically correct). Everyone knew their places, their roles, their scripts, their timing and it all felt very... stiff.

I know I'm complaining. As I've reflected on this experience for a while I realize how grateful I am for my regular parish and for the Jesuits who are there. And I worry for those who feel stuck and spiritually starved in their parish. I'm fortunate that there are more than a dozen Catholic churches within a 30 minute drive from my house. I have some choice, but many others don't.

Even with some choice, people don't always take it. Sometimes they simply drop out of church. I suppose they figure that if they don't feel fed in their current parish, they won't get that in any other parish either. But not every parish is the same, and no one parish has the only correct or acceptable expression of Catholicism.