When I was in my first assignment, probably 2 years after I was ordained, an 8th grader from our parish school came to find me at the end of the school day. He told me with great sobs that his mother had told him that morning that it was a mistake that he had ever been born. He asked me to walk home with him, about 3 blocks away, and help him talk with his mom.
So, I walked home with him and met his mom. As we talked the boy’s mother said that she had gone through several operations in order to have another child; but then she repeated that it was a mistake that he had ever been born. She then expressed her bitterness on how difficult the 14 years of this boy’s life were on her. At this, the boy began sobbing again; and I suggested that he go to his room so that his mom and I could talk. And talk we did.
I imagine all of us have some story of something happening in life that ruined our plans, or made for life becoming very difficult because of some event, or made us feel like trash.
After all, we like to be in control; and when events come along that destroy our sense of control, we tend to fight with those events, or allow ourselves to be tormented by the unexpected results that could not be foreseen.
We much prefer our sense of control than being thrown into chaos. We prefer the season of Peter’s life described by Jesus, “Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted.”
We all like to be in control. Isn’t that what birth control is all about? Isn’t that what death with dignity is all about? Isn’t that what abortion is all about? Insisting in being in control, however, is the first line of defense against the grace of God. You’ve heard of the saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him what your plans are for the day!”
Sooner or later some event will come along in all of our lives that will toss our sense of control way up into the air. We will go from having things under control, to being thrown into chaos. We tend to see such moments as a disaster. For there’s nothing quite so unsettling as the feeling of being adrift in chaos. But in fact, such moments are a time of grace, as well as a time of testing.
It could be an experience of failure, or having made a huge mistake, or having to face a serious illness or the death of a loved one. In everyone’s life, ultimately some huge interruption comes along and turns our lives upside down.
Like when Jesus warns Peter: “But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when he had said this, he said to him, “Follow me.”
What looks like an interruption, what feels like a ruination of our plans, is exactly the moment when we can glorify God. This is the meaning of the cross of Christ. It looked like a catastrophe, but it was the source of our salvation. It looked like absolute failure, but was the grandest moment of God’s success: to be crucified yet to be able to say, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”
The arrest of the apostles in our first reading looked to be a terrible interruption in their plan to evangelize, and what’s worse is that they were flogged. That interruption, however, became such that they rejoiced “that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.”
How did the apostles get that way? How could they interpret hardship as a way of giving God the glory? How could that mother of the 8th grade boy have seen her predicament as something to rejoice over instead of something to be bitter about?
It’s all in our attitude, isn’t it? For Peter, his attitude came from being built on the love of Jesus, "Do you love me?" May the Lord bless us with such a strong love for the Lord that we will trust Him in whatever He calls us to experience in life.
Comments