My dear parishioners, on this Passion Sunday, it will do us good to reflect that suffering is both very personal as well as universal, a sorrowful fact of life in every age and culture. Suffering shatters the powerful strongholds of individual human pride as well as the hubris of mighty nations. The passage of time may relieve the sharpness of pain. Sorrow does not yield easily to the calendar, however, or to the force of human will. A human being’s recognition of the depths of personal grief may be delayed inexplicably by weeks or months. Years of effort may be needed to work through suffering’s many dimensions. Sometimes why we grieve is not entirely clear to us. Feelings of hostility and guilt may complicate our understanding of suffering. The grief process invites the sufferer to become spiritually renewed even as he or she dwells in the heart of the desert. Grief seeks reconciliation, and this reconciliation must be suffered through. It’s not enough to play the part of a strong person striding the mountaintop who merely calls out words of consolation in passing to a friend lost in the dark valley. It is a mystery that suffering is both intimate and invitatory. It invokes the care and benevolent response of compassionate persons. Compassion is a most demanding aspect of love of neighbor, precisely because it is not a negotiated transaction between relative equals. The word compassion means to suffer the experience of another. By extending compassion, one dares to embrace a human being who is hurting because he, too, knows the meaning of painful experiences. Not everyone can summon the courage or compassion to acknowledge suffering and grief honestly. A suffering person actually may fail to thrive simply because one or more core persons in his life lack genuine spiritual and psychological maturity. The painful inadequacies of well-meaning intimate companions are sharply evident even when they try their best. When the Son of God returns in the fullness of his glory, all suffering will end. Never again will suffering intrude on human dignity. The fall of Adam and Eve into sin reminds us that we were not created to suffer. Although suffering is within the norm of our human lives, it is never “normal” in the eyes of God. The passion of Jesus Christ gives meaning to suffering. Without the cross of Christ, human beings would find it impossible to comprehend, still less experience hope and grace in the midst of grave trials. You draw near to a person who suffers so that he or she may not be left behind. Understand that your presence to someone in distress helps to alleviate some of his or her pain. Likewise, proofs of love will help to heal some of the sorrow. By offering heartfelt compassion, you perform a spiritually vital, even courageous act for the sake of another. At the foot of the cross, the apostle John reached across the abyss of suffering to embrace the mother of Jesus in her agony. The young boy overcame his perceived inadequacies to offer compassion to Mary. She reached through her agony to receive it. The two disciples of Jesus clung to each other in suffering and grief in the darkness of Golgotha. The depth of John and Mary’s loving kindness forever will be celebrated in our Passion readings. We seek the company of others with whom we can share our frail humanity—to know that we are not alone. Together we search for meaning in suffering and more often than not, we find it. The afflictions of all human beings are woven into the seamless garment [cf Jn 19:23] of Jesus' passion and death. This is precisely so that humanity’s hopes and dreams may be illumined by the light of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. Sincerely in the hearts of Jesus and Mary. Your pastor, Reverend Richard Barker. +++
My dear parishioners, on this Passion Sunday, it will do us good to reflect that suffering is both very personal as well as universal, a sorrowful fact of life in every age and culture. Suffering shatters the powerful strongholds of individual human pride as well as the hubris of mighty nations.