CHRIST IS WITH ME IN TRIBULATION
I, Paul, in chains for the name of Christ, wish to re-late to you the trials besetting me daily, in order that you may be inflamed with love for God and join with me in his praises. The prison here is a true image of everlasting hell: to cruel tortures of every kind – shackles, iron chains, manacles – are added hatred, vengeance, calumnies, obscene speech, quarrels, evil acts, swearing, curses, as well as anguish and grief. But the God who once freed the three children from the fiery furnace is with me always; he has de-livered me from these tribulations and made them sweet.
In the midst of these torments, which usually terrify others, I am, by the grace of God, full of joy and gladness, because I am not alone – Christ is with me.
Our Master bears the whole weight of the cross, leaving me only the tiniest, last bit. He is not a mere onlooker in my struggle, but a contestant and the victor and champion in the whole battle. Therefore upon his head is placed the crown of victory, and his members also share in his glory.
How am I to bear with the spectacle, as each day I see emperors, mandarins, and their retinue blaspheming your holy name, O Lord, Behold, the pagans have trodden your cross underfoot! Where is your glory? As I see all this, I would, in the ardent love I have for you, prefer to be torn limb from limb and to die as a witness to your love.
O Lord, show your power, save me, sustain me, that in my infirmity your power may be shown and may be glorified before the nations; grant that I may not grow weak along the way, and so allow your enemies to hold their heads up in pride.
Beloved brothers, as you hear all these things may you give endless thanks in joy to God, from whom every good proceeds; bless the Lord with me, on his lowly servant and from this day all generations will call me blessed, for to confound the noble. Through my mouth he has confused the philosophers who are disciples of the wise of this world.
I write these things to you in order that your faith and mine may be united. In the midst of this storm I cast 1my anchor toward the throne of God, the anchor that is the lively hope in my heart.
Beloved brothers, for your part put on the and take up as my patron Saint Paul has taught us. than, with all your members intact, to be cast away.
Come to my aid with your prayers, that I may have the strength to fight according to the law, and indeed and to fight until the end and so finish the race. We may not again see each other in this life, but we will have the happiness of seeing each other again in the world to come, when, standing at the throne of the spotless Lamb, we will together join in singing his praises and exult for ever in the joy of our triumph. Amen.
--A letter of Saint Paul Le-Bao-Tinh (Vietnamese martyr)
OMNIA IN BONUM
It was to be expected that this new radiance of the priesthood would not be pleasing to the “enemy”; he would have rather preferred to see it disappear, so that God would ultimately be driven out of the world. And so it happened that, in this very year of joy for the sacrament of the priesthood, the sins of priests came to light – particularly the abuse of the little ones, in which the priesthood, whose task is to manifest God’s concern for our good, turns into its very opposite. We too insistently beg forgiveness from God and from the persons involved, while promising to do everything possible to ensure that such abuse will never occur again; and that in admitting men to priestly ministry and in their formation we will do everything we can to weigh the authenticity of their vocation and make every effort to accompany priests along their journey, so that the Lord will protect them and watch over them in troubled situations and amid life’s dangers. Had the Year for Priests been a glorification of our individual human performance, it would have been ruined by these events. But for us what happened was precisely the opposite: we grew in gratitude for God’s gift, a gift concealed in “earthen vessels” which ever anew, even amid human weakness, makes his love concretely present in this world. So let us look upon all that happened as a summons to purification, as a task which we bring to the future and which makes us acknowledge and love all the more the great gift we have received from God. In this way, his gift becomes a commitment to respond to God’s courage and humility by our own courage and our own humility. The word of God, which we have sung in the Entrance Antiphon of the liturgy, can speak to us, at this hour, of what it means to become and to be priests: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble of heart” (Mt 11:29).
--Benedict XVI, Homily, Closing of the Year for Priests, 11 June 2010
The everlasting God has
in His wisdom foreseen
from eternity the cross
that He now presents to you
as a gift from His inmost heart.
This cross He now sends you
He has considered with His all-knowing eyes,
understood with His divine mind,
tested with His wise justice,
warmed with loving arms
and weighed with His own hands
to see that it be not one inch too large
and not one ounce too heavy for you.
He has blessed it with His holy Name,
anointed it with His consolation,
taken one last glance at you
and your courage,
and then sent it to you from heaven,
a special greeting from God to you,
an alms of the all-merciful love of God.
(St Francis de Sales)
Ei mihi! Dómine, miserére mei! Ei mihi! Ecce vúlnera mea non abscóndo: médicus es, æger sum; miséricors es, miser sum.
Numquid non tentátio est vita humána super terram? Quis velit moléstias et difficultátes? Tolerári iubes eas, non amári. Nemo quod tólerat amat, etsi toleráre amat. Quamvis enim gáudeat se toleráre, mavult tamen non esse quod tóleret. Próspera in advérsis desídero, advérsa in prósperis tímeo. Quis inter hæc médius locus, ubi non sit humána vita tentátio? Væ prosperitátibus sæculi semel et íterum a timóre adversitátis et a corruptióne lætítiæ! Væ adversitátibus sæculi semel et íterum et tértio a desidério prosperitátis et quia ipsa advérsitas dura est, et ne frangat tolerántiam! Numquid non tentátio est vita humána super terram sine ullo interstítio?
Et tota spes mea non nisi in magna valde misericórdia tua.
This is agony, Lord, have pity on me! It is agony! See, I do not hide my wounds; you are the physician and I am sick; you are merciful, I in need of mercy.
Is not human life on earth a time of testing? Who would choose troubles and hardships? You command us to endure them, but not to love them. No-one loves what he has to endure, even if he loves the endurance, for although he may rejoice in his power to endure, he would prefer to have nothing that demands endurance. In adverse circumstances I long for prosperity, and in times of prosperity I dread adversity. What middle ground is there, between these two, where human life might be free from trial? Woe betide worldly prosperity, and woe again, from fear of disaster and evanescent joy! But woe, woe, and woe again upon worldly adversity, from envy of better fortune, the hardship of adversity itself, and the fear that endurance may falter. Is not human life on earth a time of testing without respite?
On your exceedingly great mercy, and on that alone, rests all my hope.
(St Augustine, Confessions, Book 10)
10 Quóniam probásti nos, Deus; *
igne nos examinásti, sicut examinátur argéntum.
11 Induxísti nos in láqueum, *
posuísti tribulatiónes in dorso nostro.
12 Imposuísti hómines super cápita nostra,
transívimus per ignem et aquam, *
et eduxísti nos in refrigérium.
10 For you have tested us, O Lord,
you have tried us by fire, as silver is tried.
11 You led us into the trap,
heaped tribulations upon us.
12 You set other men to rule over us –
but we passed through fire and water,
and you led us out to our rest.
(Psalm 66:10-12)
Tu vero reppulísti et reiecísti, * irátus es contra christum tuum;
evertísti testaméntum servi tui, * profanásti in terram diadéma eius.
Destruxísti omnes muros eius, * posuísti munitiónes eius in ruínas.
Diripuérunt eum omnes transeúntes viam, * factus est oppróbrium vicínis suis.
Exaltásti déxteram depriméntium eum, * lætificásti omnes inimícos eius.
Avertísti áciem gládii eius * et non es auxiliátus ei in bello.
Finem posuísti splendóri eius * et sedem eius in terram collisísti.
Minorásti dies iuventútis eius, * perfudísti eum confusióne.
Usquequo, Dómine, abscondéris in finem, * exardéscet sicut ignis ira tua?
Memoráre, quam brevis mea substántia. * Ad quam vanitátem creásti omnes fílios hóminum?
Quis est homo, qui vivet et non vidébit mortem, * éruet ánimam suam de manu ínferi?
Ubi sunt misericórdiæ tuæ antíquæ, Dómine, * sicut iurásti David in veritáte tua?
Memor esto, Dómine, oppróbrii servórum tuórum, * quod contínui in sinu meo, multárum géntium,
quo exprobravérunt inimíci tui, Dómine, * quo exprobravérunt vestígia christi tui.
Benedíctus Dóminus in ætérnum. * Fiat, fiat.
But you have spurned and rejected him;
you are enraged against your anointed.
You have repudiated the covenant of your servant,
you have trampled his crown in the dust.
You have demolished his walls
and laid his fortifications in ruins.
Anyone who passes can despoil him;
he is a mockery among his neighbours.
You have strengthened the arm of those who oppress him,
you have gladdened the hearts of his enemies.
You have turned back the sharp edge of his sword;
you have deprived him of your help in battle.
You have put an end to his splendour,
and cast his throne to the ground.
You have cut short the days of his youth;
you have covered him from head to foot in shame.
How long, O Lord, will you hide yourself? For ever?
Will your anger always burn like fire?
Remember how short is my time.
Was it truly so pointless, your creation of man?
Who is the man who can live and not die,
who can save his life from the grasp of the underworld?
Where are the kindnesses you showed us of old?
Where is the truth of your oath to David?
Remember, Lord, how your servants are taunted,
the taunts I bear in my bosom, the taunts of the nations –
the insults of your enemies, Lord,
the insults that follow the steps of your anointed!
(Psalm 89: 39-53)
Suffering, pain--failure--is but a kiss of Jesus, a sign that you have come so close to Jesus on the Cross that He can kiss you.--So my child be happy.... Do not be discouraged...so smile back... For you it is a most beautiful chance of becoming fully and totally all for Jesus.
---
Your parents must have kissed you as a real sign of love. If I am the spouse of Jesus crucified, He has to kiss me. Naturally, the nails will hurt me. If I come close to the crown of thorns it will hurt me.
(Blessed Mother Teresa, Come Be My Light, p 282)
Sorrow, suffering, Eileen, is but a kiss of Jesus--a sign that you have come close to Jesus so that He can kiss you.--I think this is the most beautiful definition of suffering.--So let us be happy when Jesus stoops down to kiss us.--I hope we are close enough that he can do it.
(Blessed Mother Teresa, Letter to Eileen Egan, Come Be My Light, p 281)