Struggling with suffering… Part II of II

Q: Dear Father John, I really want to think of God as good but lately I have been struggling with all the suffering I see around me and in my own life. Where is God in all of this?

In our first post in this two part series we reflected on suffering from a number of conceptual angles to try to orient our hearts in the right direction. Now we will discuss a few practical matters.

Our faith is weak, and so the weight of life’s pain and suffering often obscures the light of hope.  What can we do to strengthen our faith? What can we do to learn to carry our crosses, and help others carry theirs, with elegance, with love, even with joy? There is a lot we can do. I would just like to mention three things.

Eliminate the Blind Side

First, we have to contemplate frequently Christ on the cross. We need to have crucifixes in our lives – on the bedroom wall, on the desk in the office, on the screen saver, and the smart-phone’s wallpaper… We have to pray the Stations of the Cross more often than just on Good Friday. In other words, we have to prepare ourselves on a regular basis to be soldiers of Christ’s cross.

As a priest, it is agonizing to see people blind-sided by suffering – because it is so unnecessary! We shouldn’t be surprised by suffering. Jesus made it clear, in his words and example, that no one is exempt from suffering. The Church makes it clear, year after year through the liturgical seasons and celebrations, that the cross is central to life in a fallen world and to our growth in holiness. And yet, so many people, in the face of an untimely death, a painful sickness, or some other real tragedy, are still blind-sided. Their initial reaction is surprise and anger at God. But did God promise us that we wouldn’t have to face suffering in life? We must regularly contemplate Christ on the cross, so that we prepare ourselves in times of consolation for the times of desolation that will surely come.

Taking the Initiative

Second, we must consciously, purposefully, and humbly help others carry their crosses. There is no better way to become soldiers of the cross and co-redeemers with Christ than to “Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). This is the most potent antidote to the self-absorption and self-centeredness that make us vulnerable to temptation during our own sufferings. Reach out to people in need. Take the initiative to bring light to those who are stuck in darkness. Here is where the Church’s traditional works of mercy come in very handy – just looking over the list can give us new ideas of how we can build up the Kingdom of Christ by bearing one another’s burdens.

Never Walk Alone

Third, we have to keep cultivating our life of prayer. In the end, we can only have mature confidence in God’s Providence if we see all things from God’s perspective. For us fallen human beings, learning to see things from God’s perspective happens only through the gifts of the Holy Spirit. And the best way to give those gifts more room to maneuver in our hearts and minds is to give God time, every single day, to infuse his light and wisdom into our souls. That’s what mental prayer – Christian meditation – is all about. If you want some help to go deeper in your mental prayer, we recommend highly this book.

God is not distant from our sufferings. This is the message of Christ’s incarnation: he is with us all the time. This is the message of the Eucharist: he himself wants to be our strength in the midst of life’s troubles. So, remember, discouragement never comes from the Holy Spirit! It only comes when we try to save the world all by ourselves – a very bad idea: “The world will give you trouble, but take courage! I have overcome the world!” (John 14:1).

Struggling with suffering… Part I of II

Q: Dear Father John, I really want to think of God as good but lately I have been struggling with all the suffering I see around me and in my own life. Where is God in all of this?

A: Suffering and sorrow challenge our faith in God. They push us out of our spiritual comfort zone as we find ourselves asking: If God is all-powerful and all good, why doesn’t he just fix everything, why does he let so many bad and painful things happen – why doesn’t he just get rid of all the world’s evil and injustice? This was Job’s dilemma in the Old Testament. It was even a challenge faced by Jesus himself in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the Blessed Virgin Mary had to grapple with it as she watched her only Son being humiliated, unjustly condemned, tortured, and crucified on Calvary. So you are in good company. Every human person, in fact, has to face this question at some point or another. But we never have to face it alone. Although at times God seems distant in the midst of suffering and sorrow, he is not. He is right by our side, carrying us and supporting us and enlightening us, if we let him. Two reflections, one doctrinal and one practical, may help you find him and lean on him as you navigate these treacherous waters.

God’s Answer to Evil

The Catechism – the systematic explanatory summary of God’s revelation in Christ – puts a spotlight on this question, and boldly gives us the doctrinal answer. Because this issue is so central to Christ’s message, and to our daily lives, I will quote the whole paragraph (#309 – the underlinings are mine):

If God the Father almighty, the Creator of the ordered and good world, cares for all his creatures, why does evil exist? To this question, as pressing as it is unavoidable and as painful as it is mysterious, no quick answer will suffice. Only Christian faith as a whole constitutes the answer to this question: the goodness of creation, the drama of sin and the patient love of God who comes to meet man by his covenants, the redemptive Incarnation of his Son, his gift of the Spirit, his gathering of the Church, the power of the sacraments and his call to a blessed life to which free creatures are invited to consent in advance, but from which, by a terrible mystery, they can also turn away in advance. There is not a single aspect of the Christian message that is not in part an answer to the question of evil.

You may have to read that paragraph more than once for it to sink in. Basically, God did not create evil and the suffering that evil causes, directly or indirectly. God created the world good, but he gave angels and humans free will. When the devil abused this freedom by rebelling against God, evil entered the universe. When the devil tempted Adam and Eve, and when they decided to follow him instead of God, that evil entered the human realm as well. Evil is not something positive, but negative. Just as cold is not something positive, but negative – it is the lack of heat. And darkness is not something positive, but negative – the lack of light. Just so, evil is the absence of some good that was part of God’s original design. When a free creature (an angel or a human) deviates from God’s plan, suffering is the logical result. And since we are all connected – we were created to be God’s family; the human race was created to be one human family, in which the actions of one person affect others, for good or ill – the sin of Adam had repercussions for all of us, just as the sin of an abusive dad or an over-possessive mom has repercussions for their children.

God Didn’t Create Robots

If God had created angels and humans without free will, he could have avoided all evil. But then you and I would be nothing more than robots. We would not be capable of love, which involves the free gift of self to another person. And if we were incapable of love, we would not be created in God’s image and likeness. And without that likeness, we would not be able to enter into heaven, the communion of life and love with God. So God took the risk.

Of course, in his omnipotence and omniscience, he is able to repair the damage done by sin and rebellion against his plan. The story of salvation, from the Garden of Eden to the Garden of Gethsemane to the New Jerusalem at the end of history, is the story of that reparation, the “redemption” of fallen humanity. In the life of every person who repents and returns to God, God shows his merciful and transforming love by mysteriously bringing forth good out of evil. This is hard for us to understand. But we get a glimpse of it by contemplating how God was able to work the most marvelous miracle in history, Christ’s resurrection, in the wake of the most horrific sin in history, the deicide of Christ’s crucifixion. This is the warp and woof of Christian life: Good Fridays followed by Easter Sundays.

Keeping the Whole Story in Mind

If we didn’t know this plan of redemption, there would be no option but despair in the face of the immense suffering and injustice of the world. But we do know the plan. We know the last scene of the story; we know that in the end “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

The core Christian virtue of hope is what keeps this truth on our radar screen, so that we never allow ourselves to be drowned by frustration, discouragement, or cynicism. This why Pope Benedict XVI calls suffering a “setting for learning hope” in his Encyclical Letter In Hope We Are Saved (see #s 35-40 for a wild, shocking meditation on the meaning of suffering). This is also why he calls God’s Last Judgment a “setting for learning and practicing hope” (see #s 41-48). Our lives here on earth, in the flow of human history, are not the whole story. We are pilgrimages, and God has promised that if we trust and follow him, all the suffering and pain of this life will be transformed into glory: “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God” (Romans 8:28).

In our next post on this topic (next Monday) we will talk about a practical approach to living in this reality.

Prayer Primer: Igniting a Fire Within – Book Recommendation

Prayer Primer : Igniting a Fire Within – by Thomas DuBay

This is a must read for those looking either to begin, or to deepen their prayer lives. Father Dubay, with brevity and clarity, covers all the foundational elements of each type of prayer (vocal, liturgical, mental, contemplative, etc.). For those already experienced with vocal or liturgical prayer, this book will help you evaluate your prayer life and determine how to further develop your relationship with God. For those who already have a solid understanding of meditation and contemplation (within the context of the definitions provided by the Church and the spiritual doctors of the Church), you might look to “Fire Within” instead (also by Fr. Dubay). However, even with experience in these areas, this book will equip you with the perspective you need to evaluate your prayer life in each important area and to navigate deeper waters as you grow in grace.

Regardless of who you are, if you are beginning or reigniting your prayer quest – this book should be the first book you pick up. Click here to learn more.

Contemplation and Meditation – What is the difference?

A. Contemplative prayer consists of a more passive (and more sublime) experience of God. If Christian meditation is the soul’s inspired quest to discover God (our work of seeking God), contemplation is God’s lifting of the soul into himself (God’s work of embrace), so that it effortlessly basks in the divine light. The key distinction here is that contemplation, in the strict sense, is purely the work of God. Meditation, though aided by God and predicated upon the grace and work of Christ, is the result of our seeking him. That basic distinction is often blurred, causing confusion, because both contemplative and meditative prayer have multiple forms. Therefore, it may be worthwhile to clarify further.

In general, meditative prayer can be mostly discursive or mostly affective. A discursive meditation follows a more logical development, analyzing a truth of the faith or a scripture passage in order to discover an insight or deepen one’s Christian understanding. That discovery or deepening leads the soul out of analysis and reflection and into conversation with God – acts of thanksgiving, praise, contrition, or petition. An affective meditation puts less emphasis on analysis or reflection, and more emphasis on the conversation, the acts of thanksgiving and praise that flow from the soul’s spiritual (not necessarily emotional) affections. Sometimes a mere glance at a biblical phrase can stir up a strong affection in the soul, and that is enough for the soul to enter into conversation with God; this is a (mostly) affective meditation. Other times, a long period of reflection, of analytical searching, finally yields an affection that leads to conversation; this is a mostly discursive meditation.

In certain seasons of the spiritual life, and often as the soul increases in spiritual maturity, meditation naturally becomes more affective. When a soul finds itself regularly and easily entering into contact with God, with hardly any discursive effort, this is often called the “prayer of quiet” or the “prayer of simplicity.” The soul finds itself easily gazing silently at the grandeur of God. Because so little effort is required in this kind of almost exclusively affective meditation, it is often called contemplative prayer. This is a common and valid use of the term. But it can cause confusion, because in a strict sense, and in the writings of mystics and theologians, contemplative prayer (“infused contemplation” is the technical term) goes even beyond this adoring gaze. We can gaze at the ocean and experience a deep sense of wonder, but it is another thing altogether to be submerged in the water. Infused contemplation is when God submerges us in himself; we no long gaze at God from without, but experience an ineffable union with him. Think of the piece of iron that is thrust into the fire and takes on the qualities of the fire.

And so, the most active type of mental prayer (as opposed to vocal prayer) is discursive meditation, which dovetails with affective meditation, which in turn culminates in the prayer of quiet, in which the soul enters effortlessly into extended acts of thanksgiving, praise, contrition, or petition. This is so effortless that it is akin to and often called contemplation. Infused contemplation, however, actually goes to a new level, lifting the soul out of itself and into the divine.

Should I attempt to shut-down or quiet my mind during prayer?

Q: Dear Saint Teresa, I have read a number of books on prayer that advocate methods of suppressing, shutting down, or eliminating thinking all together during prayer. Do you recommend this approach?

A: I cannot understand how the mind can be stopped. There is no way of doing so without bringing about more harm than good. For my part,  those in favor of stopping the mind have never given me an adequate argument for submitting to what they say.

Here are my reasons:

First, in this work of the spirit the one who thinks less and has less desire to act (in suppressing their thoughts) does more. What we must do is beg like the needy poor before a rich and great emperor, and then lower our eyes and wait with humility. When through His secret paths it seems we understand that He hears us, then it is good to be silent since He has allowed us to remain near Him; and it will not be wrong to avoid working with the intellect. But, if we don’t yet know whether this King has heard or seen us, we mustn’t become fools. The soul does become quite a fool when it tries to induce this prayer, and it is left much drier; and the imagination perhaps becomes more restless through the effort made not to think of anything. But the Lord desires that we beseech Him and call to mind that we are in His presence; He knows what is suitable for us. I cannot persuade myself to use human diligence in a matter in which it seems His Majesty has placed a limit, and I want to leave the diligence to Him. What He did not reserve to Himself are many other efforts we can make with His help, such as: penance, good deeds, and prayer – insofar as our wretchedness can do these things.

Second, is that these interior works are all gentle and peaceful; doing something arduous would cause more harm than good. I call any force that we might want to use “something arduous.” Leave the soul in God’s hands, let Him do whatever He wants with it, with the greatest disinterest about your own benefit as is possible and the greatest resignation to the will of God.

Third, the very care used not to think of anything will perhaps rouse the mind to think very much.

Fourth, what is most essential and pleasing to God is that we be mindful of His honor and glory and forget ourselves and our own profit and comfort and delight. How is a person forgetful of self if he is so careful not to stir or even to allow his intellect or desires to be stirred to a longing for the greater glory of God? When His Majesty desires the intellect to stop, He occupies it in another way and gives it a light so far above what we can attain that it remains absorbed. Then, without knowing how, the intellect is much better instructed than it was through all the soul’s effort not to make use of it. Since God gave us our faculties that we might work with them and in this work they find their reward, there is no reason to charm them; we should let them perform their task until God appoints them to another greater one.

Without any effort or noise, the soul should strive to cut down the rambling of the intellect – but not suspend either it or the mind; it is good to be aware that one is in God’s presence and of who God is when in prayer.

St. Teresa of Avila

Adapted from The Interior Castle, 4:3