Thoughts from another walk

Yesterday being the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes and the World Day of the Sick – a gift of the Servant of God Pope John Paul II to the Church – His Excellency Bishop Larry Silva celebrated Mass in honor of Our Lady, which included the Anointing of the Sick. I concelebrated the Mass with eight other priests, one of whom was also visiting (a Sacred Hearts Father visiting from the northeast).

Bishop Silva gave an excellent homily, focusing on the visitations of Mary (she apparently likes to travel) which always had a specific purpose: to comfort us.

What struck me last night more than anything else was the first reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. When I heard these words something clicked:

But the Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity. If he gives his life as an offering for sin, he shall see his descendants in a long life, and the will of the Lord shall be accomplished through him (Isaiah 53:10).

If the Lord suffered for us, why should I not suffer for him? Why should it not please him to crush me in infirmity?

These are the thoughts that accompanied me after Mass when I went for another walk in the cool of the evening around 8:30; it was about 72 degrees, simply perfect.

In the end, this entails my acceptance of the Cross as the Lord has presented it to me. This is a constant struggle. One day I willingly take it up, and gladly, and another day I flee from it.

I was reminded of a powerful experience I had when in Rome on the Conversion of Saint Paul in 2004. I wrote in my journal:

“My power is made perfect in weakness,” I heard again and again – it seemed at this point not to be me who repeated it – and I knew that Jesus, the Suffering Servant and the King of Kings, was asking for my weakness and suffering. Even as he requested my weaknesses, I knew that if I responded to his request and handed them over that more sufferings and weaknesses would undoubtedly come my way. Although I knew he could use these weaknesses to make his power perfect, still I could not hand them over to him. The thought of my sufferings – past and present – left me trembling in fear and in love and I could not bear to think what else would come to me. “My grace is sufficient for you,” he responded, “My grace is sufficient for you.”

After several more moments of quiet trembling, I accepted what I knew I must do and still I sat trembling before the Most High. Even as I found the courage to do what I had to do I realized that my arthritis would probably always be with me; “my power is made perfect in weakness,” I heard again. I knew, too, that the deaths of my parents would always be in my mind; “my grace is sufficient for you,” was the response. I also knew that more hardships and weakness are to come my way.

Hearing him call yet again, I said to Jesus – slowly and painfully and with many tears – “I . . . give . . . my life . . . to you . . . Let . . . your power . . . be made . . . perfect . . . in . . . my weakness.”

These words must become for me a daily prayer and, at times, even hourly.

My purposes for being in Hawaii right now are two-fold: first, to take a few days of retreat and, second, to see if my arthritis fades away here in the winter as it does in the summer. The answer to this little experiment seems to be in the negative.

The swelling in my fingers and knees has remained, though somewhat less than it is back in Illinois. Something, though, is different in the winter here: the arthritis does seem to exhaust my energy here as it does at home so it is better, but not as I had hoped.

It is currently raining very heavily here (it is the rainy season and the raindrops are huge) and my fingers feel it. It is not lessening my enjoyment of Hawaii, but it is a bit disappointing, a reminder of what I have long known (but not quite accepted): my arthritis is here to stay and, with the passing of years, it will worsen. Now what will I do with it?

Whether or not the Lord himself sent this arthritis to me I cannot say, but he has allowed me to suffer it, both for my own salvation and the salvation of others. As such, the Lord is pleased for me to have this arthritis. My task is now to be pleased to have it, as well, even though it often hinders me. But it is through it the Lord’s power may be made perfect.

I must offer this to the Lord as my own sacrifice that my descendants, the spiritual children the Lord entrusts to me, might have a long life with the Lord forever. If I unite the sufferings of my life to those of Christ, the will of the Lord will be accomplished through me. If I do not unite my sufferings with his, I may hinder his will. Indeed, if a priest is to be an alter Christus, another Christ, his life must resemble that of Christ who suffered for us.

Yes, Lord, take my life. Do with me what you will. Holy Mary, visit me often with your comfort, and teach me to remain always under the shadow of the Cross.