Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

I heard two amusing stories. A little girl, attending a wedding, whispered, “Mommy, why is the bride dressed in white?'' The mother replied, “Because white is the color of happiness and this is the happiest day of her life.” The child paused and then asked: “So why is the groom wearing black?”

The other quick story is about a boy who asked, "Grandpa, make a sound like a frog." Grandpa said, "Okay, but why?" The boy said, "Because I heard mommy and daddy say we're not going to Disney World until you croak." Yes: be careful what you say around kids!

The word of God takes us back in our imaginations to the sixth century before Jesus, via the second section of the Book of Isaiah, aka Deutero-Isaiah.

Here is one of the four so-called “servant songs.” The author portrays an innocent servant who suffers and dies so that others can have life.

The early Christians saw in this song Jesus who through his death and resurrection re-connected us to God.

That word may be asking us, how are we nurturing our relationship with God?

The Letter to the Hebrews proclaims a great high priest, Jesus, completely divine and yet completely human like ourselves, who through his horrific death and glorious resurrection re-establishes our relationship with God.

Do we realize, the author may be pointing out, that our relationship with God and one another is at the heart of Christianity?

In the Gospel according to Mark, two disciples argue over the privilege of status in “the age to come” without realizing the cost of discipleship here and now. Jesus says: “Can you drink the cup that I drink?” That is, the “cup of suffering”? And then Jesus concludes: to be a disciple is to serve others. Serving, not lording over others, is what true leadership is all about in our faith community. Good leadership, many would argue, is a potent combination of good strategy and moral character, that is, working to achieve goals for the greater common good and at the same time preserving one's integrity.

Today, though, I would like to reflect on the mystery of suffering in light of God's word.

Our Christian faith proclaims that hidden in every Good Friday is an Easter hope or joy. Think about it. Someone in a family loses a job, or is diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, or sees a relationship unravel, or realizes that a loved one has a chemical addiction. And then together, this family tries, as best it can, to deal with this “cross” and thereby brings hope, healing, forgiveness – and resurrection – to their life together.

Yes, the love that binds a family together can transform a tragic and desperate Good Friday into an Easter hope.

Or a student can’t understand the numbers and diagrams in a calculus problem. This student is discouraged and wants to quit. The teacher wants to go home after a long week; but, seeing the student’s frustration, the teacher patiently walks the befuddled student through the problem. After a lot of work and patience, the “lights come on” for that student.

That teacher’s selfless caring and generous gift of time transformed someone’s so-called Good Friday into Easter light.

The point is simple. We sometimes find ourselves stuck in a situation – our problems may batter and even overwhelm us. In such times, our faith challenges us to remember that good ultimately will conquer evil, that love transforms hate, that light shatters darkness. The ministry of Jesus did not end in the tragedy of the cross but in the triumph of the Resurrection.

Yes, within the mystery of suffering is the glory of resurrection, eternal life.

I think of a story told by Nobel Prize winner Elie Wiesel. In his book “The Night,” a memoir of his experiences at the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps, he describes how the SS marched all the inmates outside and there hung a youngster – as a warning to the other inmates not to try an escape. As the youngster hung there dying, Elie Wiesel, a youngster himself, heard a voice say: Where is God now?

This is an eternal question: highlighted in the biblical Book of Job, in The Confessions of St. Augustine, and in best sellers today like Rabbi Harold Kushner’s “When Bad Things Happen to Good People.”

Yes, as we reflect upon the human situation today, in Syria and Burma, in Venezuela and the Ukraine, in the Congo and Yemen, we realize the entire planet yearns for God’s healing grace.

There is of course no satisfactory answer to the mystery of suffering and evil. Suffering does sometimes result from immoral behavior, from the misuse of freedom. Autocrats often deny people their basic human rights. At other times, suffering results from an unfinished, incomplete universe, a universe in progress, to paraphrase St. Paul’s letter to the Romans.

But ultimately, how respond to suffering?

First, remember that God is always near us, forever bringing us to fuller life. God will never abandon us. Chisel in our memories the words of Isaiah, “Can a mother forget her infant…and, even if she does, I will never forget you.”

Second, remember that the mystery of inescapable suffering can have healing and redemptive power. Why do I say that? Because Jesus, through the mystery of his own passion in Gethsemane, death on Calvary, and resurrection from the tomb, re-established the relationship we had at the beginning with God.

Yes, our everyday inescapable aches and pains, borne with love, can be redemptive; can bring forth new life in ourselves and in others. The sufferings of Jesus did precisely that: they brought forth resurrection and life for all of us.

We cannot begin to imagine what life after this earthly life will be like. Think of what St. Paul wrote: “No eye has seen, or ear has heard, no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.”

So as we reflect on the mystery of suffering, in light of the word of God, remember that hidden in the sufferings of Jesus on Good Friday was the glory of his resurrection on Easter.

And we can bring Easter hope to someone’s suffering by reaching out with a helping hand, a listening ear, or an encouraging word.