Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts

Apr 12, 2025

In God’s Loving Hands (Passion Sunday C)


There is a seeming contradiction within the liturgical celebration today. On the one hand, we start by re-enacting with joyous chants and with palms on our hands Jesus’ triumphant entry to Jerusalem. The reading before the procession (Lk 19:28-40) reminds us of the joyful welcome accorded to Jesus by his disciples as he entered Jerusalem. Surely they welcomed him as a king. They chanted thus: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in Heaven and glory in the highest” (v.38). Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem highlights his kingship. The mood is that of rejoicing and victory.

On the other hand, we later proceed in a sorrowful recounting of the crucifixion as a criminal of the same Jesus we hail as a king. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” This echoes disturbingly as the passion narrative goes on. And we listen to the account of Jesus giving up his last breath. The mood is, needless to say, sorrowful.

This seeming contradiction, I submit, is an excellent backdrop against which we can appreciate both Jesus’ resolve in turning down the people’s false expectations of him as a messiah and his unwavering trust in and submission only to the will of his Father.

We recall that the Lenten season begun with the readings on the temptations of Jesus in the desert (First Sunday of Lent). It is helpful to notice that truly the tempter haunted Jesus until his last moments. Towards the end of the passion narrative just before Jesus gave up his last breath, he would face his final temptation. Notice how similar is the test with that of the desert event: “Let him save himself, if he is the Messiah of God, the chosen one.” And “If you are the king of Jews, save yourself.” Finally, “aren’t you the Messiah? Then save yourself and us.”

The people, the soldier, and the criminal hanging on the cross challenge him to display his power. The challenge to save himself means to prove to the world that He is the one they have expected to come. The people’s joy on his entry to Jerusalem is laden with such expectations of a powerful messiah who will put an end to their oppression. If Jesus sees himself according to this expectation, then dying on the cross is out of the question; for dying means suffering the utter humiliation of defeat and meaninglessness. Indeed this is Jesus’ greatest temptation: To listen to the people’s challenge to save and prove himself; but in doing so, he will have to turn his back to the Father. His final temptation is to escape his death as it seems to lead to meaninglessness and to put things into his own hands.

But again Jesus’ total submission to the will of the Father prevails. Just before he expires, Jesus prays to the Father with so much trust in his love and fidelity: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Here Jesus has shown us that, even in the face of seeming meaninglessness and utter defeat, he has faith in the wisdom of the Father. In the depth of his passion and the unfathomable mystery of his own death, he believes in the love of his Father. He trusts that in the loving hands of his Father everything will turn out fine.

We know, of course from the vantage point of Easter, that Jesus is vindicated. But to go through the experience of suffering and uncertainty of Lent is essential for the development of our capacity to trust in God’s love and fidelity. We are always tempted to put matters into our own hands. We desire so much to end the suffering around us as to be tempted to do it in our own terms and solutions. Oftentimes we tend to put our trust in our own plans and schemes oblivious of what God truly wills. 

As we walk our own journeys of faith, especially in times of suffering and uncertainty, we are called to emulate Jesus' unwavering trust and obedience to the Father. When our plans seem thwarted, our expectations unmet, or our hearts heavy with anguish, we must remember that, like Jesus, we are invited to reaffirm our trust in God's love and fidelity. In this Jubilee Year, let us embrace our role as “Pilgrims of Hope,” supporting one another through our struggles.

Let us unite our sufferings with Christ’s own passion, then we can also share in his resurrection. Armed with unwavering faith, we can face life’s challenges, confident that God's grace will guide us through the darkest valleys and towards the light of Easter joy. May we always hold in our hearts the same trust that Jesus exhibited, knowing that in God’s loving hands, we will find our true path, leading us to the fullness of life.

Father, I am superficial. I don’t see beyond what meets the eye. I don’t always understand your ways. Grant me then the grace to trust in you always and submit things into your loving hands. Amen.

Sep 14, 2024

To Love...To Suffer With...(24th Sunday Ordinary B)


The only explanation that holds water to the problem of our experience of suffering vis-à-vis the Christian conviction that God is love is this:  That God suffers with us. This is a significant theological insight that dawned on the German Protestant theologian Jürgen Moltmann as he was grappling with the rhyme and reason of the atrocities and horror of the World War II. In the face of the unspeakable forms of suffering he witnessed and experienced as a prisoner, he saw the cross of Christ as the answer: “God suffers with us—God suffers from us—God suffers for us.” The suffering on the cross is the highest manifestation of God’s love for us.

Jesus speaks of his suffering in today’s gospel (Mk 8:27-35). This he does right after Peter rightly confesses his belief in Jesus as the Messiah. Jesus’ ensuing forecast of his suffering exposes the inadequacy of Peter’s understanding about the meaning of his being the messiah. He rebukes Peter: “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” (v. 33).

Peter’s initial understanding is from a human perspective. As such, it tends to be self-preserving, if not self-centered. He understands Jesus’ messiahship as other Jews who have long waited for the messiah do--in terms of power of lording it over… the power to subjugate the enemies by force. Hence, from this human perspective, suffering is unthinkable. It’s foolishness. It means weakness. It means defeat! Suffering cannot possibly be the destiny of the messiah!

But God’s ways are beyond human’s. Jesus sees his role as messiah from the mind of God. From the perspective of God, the messiah is understood in terms of a different kind of power—the power of love. And this power is at its highest expression in the total self-emptying of God in Christ. The complete self-giving of Christ on the cross, his extreme suffering and humiliation, is the utmost manifestation of the unsurpassable greatness of God’s love for us and his creation. Seen in this way, suffering is not foolishness but God’s wisdom; not a weakness but God’s very strength; not a defeat but God’s triumph.

Like Peter, we all need to be converted—from human’s ways to God’s ways. Conversion as a total change of mind and heart means putting on the perspective of God. It is in this level of consciousness that we can appreciate Jesus’ demand for discipleship. At the end of today’s gospel reading we hear Jesus summoning his disciples and us today: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me” (v. 34).

How else can we make sense of this demand if not through the way Jesus understands his role as a suffering messiah. Like Jesus, we are called to express our Christian love through the acid test of suffering. It’s easy to be charitable if it means giving donations to the needy. But it takes a lot of self-denial and even self-emptying (kenosis) to suffer with and for those who are suffering around us.

Right now I’m asking myself, “Can I love to the point of suffering?” “Have I suffered with and for someone?” There are millions of them who are suffering from innumerable forms of pain, misery, and affliction in the world today. The whole of creation itself is already groaning! “Have I suffered for God’s creation?” Or am I too concerned about self-preservation to see the pain of humanity and the groaning of creation around me?

We need to pray for our conversion ardently. It seems that the Christianity we are becoming in this secular and materialistic society is one that gradually forgets the cross of Christ. We pray for the grace of courage and strength--that like Jesus, we, Christians of today, may embrace the cross of suffering once more as a sublime expression of our love.

I find Fr. Manoling Francisco’s composition “Your Heart Today” both instructive and inspirational in relation to our calling to suffer with and for those who are suffering:


Where there is fear I can allay, where there is pain I can heal,
Where there are wounds I can bind, and hunger I can fill.
Lord, grant me courage, Lord, grant me strength,
Grant me compassion that I may be Your heart today.

Where there is hate I can confront, where there are yokes I can release,
Where there are captives I can free, and anger I can appease.
Lord, grant me courage, Lord, grant me strength,
Grant me compassion that I may be Your heart today.

When comes the day I dread to see our broken world,
Compel me from my cell grown cold that Your people I may behold.

(Repeat 1st Stanza)

And when I’ve done all that I could,
Yet there are hearts I cannot move,
Lord, give me hope… that I may be Your heart today.