October 9, 2024 at 10:59 a.m.
Suffering is a part of life
Once a month I lead a Communion service for seniors. They are between 20 and 30 years wiser than me. Standing before a room filled with centuries of experience and steadfast faith would humble anyone.
Recently, the Scripture readings were taken from Isaiah 50 and Mark 8. In the Gospel reading from Mark, Jesus is on the road with His disciples asking, “Who do people say I am?” and “Who do you say I am?” Maybe Jesus was hoping His friends had connected the dots. He was “The One” the prophets foretold. “The One” they had been hearing about all their lives.
Jesus begins to inform the group of his upcoming rejection, suffering and death. Peter, the leading disciple, doesn’t want to hear it. He rebukes Jesus.
Maybe Peter was like me. He didn’t like bad news and the accompanying suffering involved. In response to Peter’s rebuke, Jesus basically tells Peter to shut up because suffering is a part of life. Mysteriously, it plays a divine role, not only for Jesus but for Peter and everybody else.
Throughout the book of Isaiah, we see that periodic suffering was also evident during the prophet‘s life, 800 years prior to Jesus’ birth. The verses we read foretell the agony Jesus would accept and endure, “My face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.”
This is not what I’d call good news! But God would never leave us hanging and hopeless. After all, we are His beloved children.
In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus gives Peter and the disciples great advice for navigating life’s suffering. He says, “Take up your cross and follow Me.” We do a great job worshiping Jesus. But He never said, “Worship Me.” He said, “Follow Me.”
It’s much harder to follow Jesus, imitate His example and do what He said to do. Maybe this is how we save, heal and restore our lives.
Isaiah 50 also offers guidance. The writer says, “For the Lord God helps me. Therefore, I have set my face like flint.” Flint, a very hard, dark stone, is a perfect simile for the determination we need to walk through seasons of adversity.
In my life, the most valuable “Set your face like flint” advice came from my parents. As Irish Catholics, their counsel to my six siblings and me was offered sparingly.
Observing us in difficult situations, our dad would say, “Just do the right thing,” And to me, a worry wart by nature, he’d add, “Stiff upper lip, Berni.” My mom’s standard, “Set your face like flint” advice was always, “Say your prayers and do your best.”
Staring at the room packed with peaceful, steadfast seniors and their rollator walkers, it’s apparent that long ago, they “Set their faces like flint,” welcoming seasons of joy and enduring those of sorrow.
Whether we bring it on ourselves, or it’s dropped on our doorstep, suffering is part of life for everybody. There isn’t a scoreboard at heaven’s gates, expecting perfection and tracking our fumbles. Scripture tells us repeatedly that God is unconditionally welcoming us into His loving, forgiving arms. He gives us His word and example. We set our faces like flint, and however clumsy, do our best to follow.
Bernadette Bonanno is a parishioner at Historic St. Mary’s on Capitol Hill.
Comments:
You must login to comment.