The pope began his reflection by raising the issue of truth and credibility. His major point: if a truth is not worth suffering for, it is not a very credible truth. So, in order to proclaim the truth effectively, suffering is a necessary component: Endure with me the sufferings for the Gospel (2 Timothy 1:8 & 2:3).

St. Paul is our great teacher on this aspect of the Gospel. In his life and teachings, the union of love, faith, and suffering is a constant.

For him, though, the question was not about a masochistic longing for suffering itself, but about union with his Beloved, Jesus Christ. There is no sharing in a suffering Savior’s existence without suffering, and St. Paul longed with his whole being to live what Christ lived.

A few verses from 2 Corinthians 12 are instructive here: Therefore, that I might not become too proud, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan to beat me, to keep me from being too proud. Three times I begged the Lord that this might leave me, but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." … Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and the agonies I go through for the sake of Christ, for it is when I am weak, that I am strong (12:7-10).

This sharing in the pain of Christ for the sake of the world can only be accepted, if not "understood," with the help of the Holy Spirit. It is not something we ever get a handle on, humanly, or master by our own powers.

Rather we receive it as it comes, and pray to God for the grace to accept what we need to accept. Even St. Paul himself, as we can see from this passage, had to pray much before he could surrender.

It is through our union with Christ in suffering that the Lord enters the darkness of this world to penetrate it with his light. He breaks the power of evil through the Cross, in which we share.

There are plenty of sayings about this in the Gospels and in St. Paul, and maybe we should admit at some point that we can get weary of hearing them. We think, quietly or otherwise, that there has got to be another way, a better plan. Only the Spirit of God can convince us, or convict us, that this is the better plan.

Of course, there are plenty of wrong ideas about suffering, why God permits it, and why it happens to me. A number of these can be operative in Madonna House on any given day:

—-"I deserve this."

This usually comes from a self-rejection motif. "If anybody deserves this misery, it’s me." Well, not necessarily. Plenty of innocent people suffer, and there seems no proportion between what happens to people and what they "deserve."

"I suffer because I am worthless (in God’s eyes)."

—-"God is only happy when I am unhappy!" It’s amazing how deep-seated this one is, though people don’t like to admit that this is what they really think.

—-"God takes away what (or whatever person) I most desire in life." The corollary to this is, "Therefore, when you pray, don’t tell God what you most desire." And if you belong to MH, "Don’t tell your director-general what you’d really like to do, or you’ll never get to do it!"

—-"Suffering proves that I am a ‘thing to be used’."

All of these lies can take their toll, and can take time to overcome. When we are worn down, it isn’t that easy to keep a clear head about a God of love.

In time, however, we learn that the days of crucifixion bear fruit in a deep and loving union with Christ, a kind of spiritual kinship and mutual understanding, a joy shared by "friends" (see John 15:11-15).

St. Paul talks here and there about overcoming Principalities and Powers.

One of the indications that we are involved in such battles is that we are having a very difficult day without apparent reason. On such days, apart from being affected by our own weaknesses, we have the feeling of pushing against a weight of darkness, a weight which is hard to define but certainly tangible.

What a miserable experience this can be! You start your day in reasonably good shape, and then as you move along, for no apparent reason, you find yourself pushing against a weight that positively exhausts you.

You push and you push, and every step becomes heavier. And you haven’t even got out of the door yet and headed off to work! What is this, you ask.

In community, you notice next that the experience described above seems to be spreading. Quite a few people are experiencing something like it simultaneously.

The heaviness is such that it’s hard to think clearly. And you don’t know why, there are no "explanations" given, no obvious reason, though at times in MH we try to pin it (maybe rightfully) on this world catastrophe or that.

At such times, we just have to walk in faith. Get a blessing. Use holy water. Pray the rosary or some other prayer. These help, but it doesn’t necessarily mean the heaviness will lift! Not at all.

The Lord sometimes lets us bear this kind of weight for a time, his time, his choice. Then suddenly, it lifts! The person who a moment ago I could hardly bear seeing (for no good reason), is now once again the person I’ve loved for years, a dear brother or sister or husband or wife in the Lord.

What a great advertisement for a life dedicated to Christ!

How the Lord seems to love it when someone gives him an unconditional "yes," enabling Him to say: "Oh good! Another one. An offering with me for my people. Someone who will just say, ‘Okay, Lord, whatever. A heavy day? A heavy week? A heavy month? Okay, till you lift it away.’"

This is all part of walking with Christ and walking with St. Paul. The apostle teaches us how to follow our risen Lord, knowing that He loves us, that we are not alone in this but a part of one body sharing Christ’s one life. And he teaches us that the pattern will be to participate in his sufferings so as to share his glory.

When we receive these gifts, when we accept them, we can preach the Gospel. You know why? Not because we finally think of something effective to say (though we might). Rather, because we become the Gospel, we are the Gospel.

We are the Gospel because now Christ is living in us. He has found some living space, some breathing space. And this is what he is looking for above all else: to live in us and to love through us, for the salvation of many.

The End