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On Suffering

Most of you don’t know that I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition last year, ulcerative colitis. For many years now, I have wrestled with scriptures that say God protects us, but my life circumstances don’t reflect what I expect that to mean. My illness has given me more direct ways of exploring these questions. Why am I sick? Why didn’t he protect me from this? This blog will attempt to lay out some of the things I’ve learned over the last year and a half.

In many respects, the answer is rooted in “God is love.” 1 Jn 4:8. The entirety of scripture together tells us that we were created to live eternity with God in love. The New Testament tells us that transformation is required for us to be able to do so. This begs the question, what does a transformed life look like? The answer is — like Christ. Paul regularly talks about our lives in Christ; not simply with Christ. Baptized people live no longer as individuals, but as members of Christ’s body. Galatians 2:20, 1 Corinthians 12:12–27. Thus, we need to turn to the life of Jesus to see what we are to become.

When I look at the life of Jesus, I see someone who gave his all for the many. He poured himself out both in life and in death. He lived selflessly and self-givingly. He loved like no one who came before him or after him. As Paul says, he didn’t wait until we lived up to our potential, but came while we were still sinners. Rom 5:8. He ate with the outcasts without shunning them. He is king of the universe, but lived as a servant, not as human leaders do. He lived in full trust of the Father’s love and concern, even to the cross.

I don’t know about you, but my life looks very little like his life. There is a lot of transformation yet to be done, and this is where at least one of the meanings of suffering comes in. While God is continuously working to heal our wounds, he can make great progress when we seek to handle suffering like Jesus did in his passion. This means the spiritual life is about collaborating with the Holy Spirit to heal the wounds that prevent us from living life to the fullest in Christ; our life of living, moving, and having our being in Him. Acts 17:28. One of the ways this happens is through the practice of dying to self and carrying our crosses, something that is required of all disciples. Matthew 16:24–25, Mark 8:34–35, and Luke 9:23–24. When we die to self, to selfishness, we grow in our ability to love as Jesus loves.

In my experience, suffering has brought into the light several misperceptions about God and his ways. I can better see how my misperceptions cause me to prioritize myself over others. I have learned (imperfectly as of yet) how to be with Jesus in his passion. How to abide in God even when I feel confused or want to force my will, my way. How to trust that God, like a doctor who may perform surgery or use chemo to heal us, can use our suffering to transform us. I am learning to surrender to the process and watching how God is using the good and bad of life to teach me how to live more Christ-like.

In these trials, God is teaching me to live more selflessly by living in trust with him. This is not to say I now live fully from these lessons. To some degree, it is knowledge received in prayer; knowledge that I will spend my life learning to live from with the help of the Holy Spirit. With the help of his grace.

No, I am not transformed, but I am being transformed through the power of God within me by baptism. Such transformation happens not only through trials and tribulations, but through every aspect of my life as long as I continually seek to live my life in Christ. As far as whether God protects me or not, I’ve learned to believe that he is protecting me into eternal life in Christ, which sometimes means not living a comfortable and cozy life in this world. I’m learning to have faith that if God allows something to happen in my life, it is an opportunity to be conformed to Christ.

Holy Spirit, I offer you the good and evil in my life today. I know I still live in a broken world and I trust you to use every aspect of my life to perfect me in Christ. Teach me how to cooperate with you. I know you will not override my will, and I hereby expressly give you permission to do what you need to do within me today.

In Christ,

He First Loved Us

In 1 John 4:19, we hear that we love God because he first loved us. Have you ever stopped to think about the importance of this in the spiritual life? That while we were still sinners, he loved us and sent his only Son. He didn’t wait for us to make progress. In fact, it seems he gave us hundreds of years of history to show us that we were incapable of making progress on our own. Just look at the Israelites and their struggle to live the way God instructed them to live. Despite being the chosen people, they could not do what they were supposed to do.

In Ezekiel 36:27, we receive a hint as to why this is true. In that verse, God tells us that he will place his spirit within us so we can live the covenant. Imagine the joy of the disciples at the Last Supper when, according to John’s Gospel, Jesus said, I have to leave so the Holy Spirit can come. Jn 16:7. Every Jew present at that time would have known what that meant in light of Ezekiel’s prophecy.

For those of us who are baptized, we have received his Spirit. However, we still struggle to live the covenant. Why is that? In truth, the key answer is that life is a journey of learning to cooperate with the Holy Spirit so we can learn to follow his breath-like inspirations towards properly living the covenant. At the same time, I think learning the importance of how he first loved us is a key towards learning to follow those inspirations.

So, why is this passage so important? I would suggest that our ability to love him flows from our ability to receive his love for us. It is difficult to surrender to the truth that despite our sinful behavior, he loves us. Don’t believe me? Just look at your favorite image of Jesus. Make eye contact, and see if you can ponder his love and receive it. Sometimes this might be easy (or seem easy), but other times, it is very difficult. When we learn to receive his love, we learn to love him in return.

In Christ,

The Suffering Servant

For a while now, I have wanted to study the suffering servant poems to better understand them. My understanding of poetry and ability to connect with these passages has limited my ability to undertake this task. Over the last few weeks, I have been learning about AI, and its strengths and weaknesses. I’ve been alternating between ChatGPT and Claude. Here, at the beginning of Holy Week, I thought it was a good opportunity to see what these two tools could do to help me achieve my goal. I asked both to compile a narrative that blends the four separate passages while being true to the poem itself. I thought I would share the fruit this endeavor, in case it proved beneficial to anyone else. This is the ChatGPT version. It stays more neutral within the text itself. The version Claude produced was beautiful, but it interpreted it against my Christian lens. Of course, I’ll offer you the same disclaimer GPT offered me, AI does not always get things right, but this seems pretty consistent to the best of my current understanding.

May God lead you deeper in your faith this week as we reflect on what Jesus did to restore us to the fullness of our human dignity!

There is one whom the Lord upholds, one chosen and delighted in. The Spirit of the Lord rests upon him. He does not draw attention to himself or force his voice to be heard. He moves quietly, without breaking what is already fragile or extinguishing what is barely alive. Instead, he brings forth justice with steadiness and faithfulness, and he does not grow faint or discouraged until what is right is established.

The Lord formed him for a purpose that reaches beyond a single people. He was given as a covenant, as a light to the nations, to open blind eyes, to bring prisoners out from confinement, and to lead those who sit in darkness into light.

From the beginning, his life was called and shaped by the Lord. He was set apart from the womb. His words were made sharp and effective, yet his formation was hidden. He was held in the shadow of the Lord’s hand, concealed like a carefully prepared instrument. Though he was chosen, his experience included a sense of laboring without visible result, of spending strength without return. Yet even in that, he entrusted his cause to the Lord, trusting that what was unseen was not lost.

His mission was not limited or small. He was not only to restore what had been scattered, but to become a light reaching outward, so that salvation would extend to the ends of the earth.

He lived in constant attentiveness to the Lord. Each day, he received what he needed to speak and to sustain others. His ear was open; he listened and learned, and then spoke in a way that strengthened those who were weary. He did not turn away when obedience brought suffering. He offered himself fully—his body to those who struck him, his face to humiliation, enduring shame without resistance.

Yet he was not abandoned in this. He knew the Lord was near, helping him. Because of that, he stood firm. He did not collapse under accusation or opposition, trusting that the One who vindicates was with him. He set his face with resolve, knowing he would not ultimately be put to shame.

Still, his life became marked by rejection. He was not esteemed by those who saw him. He was familiar with suffering and grief, and people turned away from him. What he carried was not recognized for what it was. Yet the suffering he bore was not only his own. He took on the weight of others’ grief and pain. What appeared as affliction was, in truth, something he carried on behalf of others.

He was wounded and crushed, not for his own wrongdoing, but because of the transgressions and burdens of others. What fell upon him brought peace to others, and through what he endured, healing came. Like one led without resistance to death, he did not protest or defend himself. He remained silent even under judgment.

He was cut off, removed from the land of the living, though there was no deceit in him and no violence in his life. Yet this was not outside the purpose of the Lord. Through this suffering, something was accomplished that extended beyond him. What he offered—his very life—became the means by which many were accounted as right.

He poured himself out completely, even to death, and was counted among those considered guilty. Yet in doing so, he bore what belonged to many and stood in their place. He carried their wrongdoing and made intercession on their behalf.

And though his path led through rejection, suffering, and death, it did not end there. What was entrusted to him was not lost. What the Lord willed was brought to fulfillment through him, and what he carried was not in vain.

In Christ,

I Am the Light of the World

A few years ago, I was in Nazareth at the Church of the Annunciation. The tour guide pointed out that the dome was shaped like a lighthouse, symbolizing a guiding light drawing people to salvation. As you likely know, lighthouses aid maritime travelers as they navigate dangerous waters. The architecture also points to the words of Jesus in John 8:12:

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

While reflecting on that architecture, I thought about Moses, whose face shone brightly after spending time in the presence of God. The brightness was so overwhelming that people could not look at him, and he had to cover his face with a veil.

If Jesus is the light of the world, and through baptism we live as Christ in the world (Galatians 2:19–20), then, in a mysterious way, we too become light in the world. This brought to mind a hymn sung in the Catholic Church:

“We are the light of the world;
May our light shine before all,
That they may see the good that we do,
and give glory to God.”
— We Are the Light of the World, Jean Anthony Greif

If Christ truly lives within us, then His light is meant to shine into the world through us. Sometimes our faces reflect that saving grace clearly. Other times, we feel a need to cover that light like Moses, but our situation is different. He covered his face because the people could not bear the brightness he reflected after being in God’s presence. The light we bear is not an external reflection, like the light of the moon. It comes from the living presence of Christ, the light of the world, who dwells within us. When we allow His light to shine through us, we become a lighthouse of Christ’s glory in the world; we become a beacon by which others navigate the rocky waters and find their way home.

A Spiritual Edifice

This morning, I read 1 Peter 2:1-17, and the concept of Jesus’ followers being built into a spiritual edifice grabbed my attention. While this passage is typically translated as “a spiritual house,” I think the word edifice better describes what is happening to us.

I need to explain two points so you can follow my logic. First, what is an edifice? After studying a few dictionaries, it seems a comprehensive best definition is – an impressive structure that is often massive in size. In other words, it isn’t just a house or typical structure. It is something more grandiose.

Second, we need to understand that being a member of Christ’s body is not a metaphorical statement. In baptism, we die and rise with Christ. Col 2:12. In fact, Paul regularly talks about the spiritual life as a life lived “in Christ.” (e.g., Gal 2:16-20). Thus, in some mystical way, we really are living stones being built into a spiritual edifice.

So, why was this phrase an invitation to dialogue with the Holy Spirit this morning? I think it was for more than one reason, but the applicable fruit here is that humans seem to have a deep longing to attain a higher purpose, to find some personal sense of accomplishment, to achieve something that is a legacy we can leave behind, or something along these lines. In its basic form, this longing is not wrong because we were created to seek something greater. The problem is that our fallen nature wants the “something greater” to be about me, the individual. As I said above, that individual died in baptism. The longing that exists within us exists because we were created to quest for God and to find our true meaning and purpose in the great spiritual edifice, the body of Christ.

When I look out at the world, there are many people, me included, who experience a lot of pain trying to make sense of the world, why they were created; why they exist. The reason we have so much pain is that we were meant to share in the greatness of Christ, not to possess something akin to his greatness on our own merit. The more we look to soothe the pain of our existence in worldly things, the more painful this existence will be. The only eternally effective salve for this pain is to allow the Holy Spirit to more and more fully incorporate us into the life of Christ.

Here is where I need to share the good and the bad news. Let’s start with the bad news. The only way to be incorporated into Christ’s body is through suffering. It is through our practices of dying to self and carrying our crosses that we allow the Holy Spirit to heal the interior wounds that cause us to quest after personal greatness.

The good news is that this work is done in Christ. In him, our burden is light. In him, we experience the joy of living as we were created to live. In him is our glory, our peace, and our joy.

My prayer for you today is that you open yourself to the work of the great contractor, the Holy Spirit, and allow him to shape and mold you into this edifice. I pray that you allow your great longing for greatness to be appeased in Christ.

In Christ,

Come Sweet Child of Mine

Dear child of mine, I invite you to curl up in my lap and sit in the light of my love and mercy. I know you are concerned and in deep emotional pain. I know that you are afraid to trust me because so many people have broken your trust. I know it is hard to trust me because my ways are not like human ways. You often feel betrayed when I don’t love you the way you expect me to, and I know that you are not yet able to understand my language of love.

So, come, curl up in my lap and rest. Let me sing comforting songs to you. Let me assure you that you are not alone and that you will not drown when you feel as though you are about to be overwhelmed by the raging waters of the sea. I am right here with you.

If you could only see how you are bound, like one tied up in a fishing net that is being tossed and turned on the raging waters of the sea. You cannot see all of the ropes that make up the net, but you can see ropes that seem more life-threatening to you than the other ropes. I ask you to trust that I sometimes have to loosen a rope that is more dangerous than others before I get to the one that frightens you the most. The fact that I am not untying the one that frightens you doesn’t mean that I am not at work or that I want you to sit in fear. I just need a little more time to take care of the ones that are a more serious threat to you right now.

I ask you to do your best not to panic or pull on the ropes in your fear and confusion. I need you to rest patiently while I work my way to that rope that frightens you. Otherwise, you get more entangled in the net, and it will take longer for me to get you out. At the same time you need to trust that no matter how much you struggle against the net, I will get you out. It will go faster if you just do your best to be patient. Come, sit in the light of my love, and find peace in me, your beloved one. Know that I have your eternal best in mind at all times. Know that I long for your joy and happiness more than you can ever know. Hold on to faith, to hope, and most importantly, to love.

Come, sweet child. Climb up into my lap and get some rest. Climb up here and sleep in the knowledge that I love you and will watch over you. Come, sweet child, and get your rest in me.

God’s Glory Is Love!

In John’s Gospel, we hear Jesus say, “Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him. If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself, and God will glorify him at once. My children, I will be with you only a little while longer. I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:31-33a, 34-35. This made me stop and ponder the meaning of the word glory – a manifestation of power and/or might. In scripture, this happens in a few different ways. For instance, we read about God’s glory being manifested in physical phenomena like a pillar of fire, a cloud settling on the top of Mt. Sinai, and the like. We also hear stories of the Israelites regularly defeating larger and more powerful armies with God’s help. In addition, when Moses asks to see God’s glory, God tells him: “I will make all my goodness pass before you.” These seem like easy to understand examples based on the above definition of glory.

When we turn to the New Testament, however, we start to understand that God actually defines glory in a very different way. In fact, when you look at the larger context of this passage, the stories surrounding this one, you start to see that God’s glory is made manifest in Jesus’ passion and death. While the overall text includes the resurrection, the primary focus is on his death on the cross; his being raised up on the cross. God’s power and might is revealed in Jesus on the cross. This is one of those times that we see how God’s ways are not our ways. Isaiah 55:8-9. No human would think to express power and might in weakness.

Is it any wonder that the “Jews” of Jesus’ time struggled to understand the glory of God hanging on a cross? It is difficult to see past the horror of the cross, to see God’s glory being made manifest in Jesus’ infinite love and mercy. Even today many people fail to see God’s glory in his sacrificial love on the cross. Many only see the rejection and humiliation, not the love behind his willingness to be tortured and murdered by those he created without punishing them. They don’t see the blessings received by those who believed in the gift of eternal life purchased for them in his life, death, and resurrection. Only God would reveal his glory in love instead of power and might.

Now that we understand how God’s definition of glory is different from our understanding, we can also see that his definition of love transcends our understanding. Human love is often described as an “emotion, a sentiment, or personal attraction. (Lewis, 347). God’s definition is sacrificial love. Whereas human love often looks to how something or someone makes them feel; to how others are creating for them a sensation that they experience as love, God’s divine love is “practical, dynamic, and demanding.” (Lewis 347). It is for the benefit of the other, not for self. This is important because if we do not take the time to understand God’s love, if we only love as humans love, we will fall short of following his commandment to love as he loves.

While I don’t normally mix theology across Gospels in order to respect the beauty by which each author expresses the good news, I think this is a good opportunity to do so. Matthew’s Gospel says Jesus came to fulfill the law, not to abolish it. Mt 5:17. The theme of love was not new to the Jews. In fact, when we ponder the Ten Commandments we see that they are concrete ways of loving God and neighbor. However, as we see in the Pharisees and other Jewish leaders at the time of Jesus, the Jews spent more time focusing on their “dress, diet, rituals,” and other observances of the law to externally express their lived relationship with God. (Lewis, 347). While these outward signs helped Gentiles know that a person was an Israelite, a child of God, they fell short of the spirit of the OT law of love.

In Jesus, we see the fulfillment of the law of love in the way that he radically changed our understanding of love by making it other-focused, even to the point of death. No longer is covenantal living solely expressed in our observance of the ten concrete examples of love. His love goes way beyond these examples. We are no longer solely set apart by our outward practices of diet, dress, and rituals. We are also called to set ourselves apart by loving others as Jesus loves. We are called to be known by our other-worldly practices of love.

In closing, I want to point out one of the most remarkable phrases in this passage. Jesus knew that the disciples were struggling. Just like us, their human concepts of glory and love prevented them from fathoming the radical ways in which Jesus re-interpreted these concepts in his life. He knew they would stumble in their confusion, and tenderly reassured them by calling them his “little children.” He knew they would abandon him. He knew how they would struggle, but despite their “misunderstanding, ignorance, and failures,” they always remained his little children. (Moloney, 385). We, too, remain his little children as we learn to live this radical way of life. We, too, will make mistakes and stumble in our confusion, but with the help of the Holy Spirit, little by little we will be the means through which God reveals his glory, his love, in our time and space.

In Christ,

Inspirations:

Dianne Bergant and Robert J. Karris, The Collegeville Bible Commentary: Based on the New American Bible with Revised New Testament (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1989), 1004.

Scott M. Lewis, “The Gospel according to John,” in New Testament, ed. Daniel Durken, The New Collegeville Bible Commentary (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2009), 346–347.

Francis J. Moloney, The Gospel of John, ed. Daniel J. Harrington, vol. 4, Sacra Pagina Series (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1998), 21, 385–389.

George R. Beasley-Murray, John, vol. 36, Word Biblical Commentary (Dallas: Word, Incorporated, 1999), 246–248.

Scott Hahn, ed., “John’s Gospel,” Catholic Bible Dictionary (New York; London; Toronto; Sydney; Auckland: Doubleday, 2009), 461.

Scott Hahn, ed., “Glory,” Catholic Bible Dictionary (New York; London; Toronto; Sydney; Auckland: Doubleday, 2009), 314.

Love of Self

Yesterday I heard a comment about how humans tend to love themselves conditionally. It made me stop to consider whether I agreed with the statement or not. First, when I think about self-love it tends to be a derogatory term because it usually refers to one who is proud and puts themselves first. The form of love being spoken of in the statement was a different type of self-love.

I had to ask myself – do I love myself? I felt resistance. I like myself, but would I go so far as to say I loved myself? Hmm. When I asked myself why this question was so hard to answer, I realized I had to agree with the original statement. My love of self is, to some degree, conditional.

What does it mean to conditionally love oneself? It means when I am behaving how I should behave and do what I am supposed to do then I can love myself. I didn’t even realize I was doing that. It was all rooted in my subconscious.

As I continued to ponder this, I remembered hearing that God’s love is unconditional. God loves me no matter what I do or how I behave. He wants more for me, but he loves me no matter what. Scripture tells us that God created us good. We know that we can never lose that original goodness. It’s why baptism can wash our sins away. My created self is like pure gold, not a gold bar riddled with impurities. Sin is like mud and muck sticking to every part of the exterior shell of the bar. The mud and muck can be washed away.

From here I can posit that my conditional self-love means I view myself as the muck, not the gold. The less muck the more self-love. God sees behind the muck and loves the essence of the created being. God wants us to stop covering our natural essence in muck. He wants us to see the beauty and amazing attributes of the person he created each of us to be. He wants us to see past the muck when looking at others and love them for the precious person he created in them, too.

How about you – are you conditionally loving the muck or unconditionally loving the amazing creature that lies beneath? Taking this further and ask – how do you think God views you? You may say that you know God loves you, but does the conditional love idea creep into your subconscious? Do you project that onto the God who created you and wants you to live the life you were always meant to live? Do you live a life believing you have to behave a certain way to ensure that God loves you at all times? If so, stop and remember that no matter what you do God will always love you and that he gives you permission to love yourself unconditionally, too.

In Christ,

Saved and Sinner

Sometimes it looks like there are two models for being Christian. Some people seem to accept God’s free gift of salvation and go about their lives having faith in the free gift. In this model, there is a heavy focus on being saved. The second prevalent model seems to be that one is still a sinner and has to wait until Heaven to live in the joy of salvation. In this model, there is a heavy focus on “still sinner” and the need for penitential acts, practices of virtue, and the like.

Paul seems pretty clear that both are true. We are saved while still sinners. Rom 5:8. The free gift is offered to all humans, and one chooses to accept it at baptism. However, acceptance isn’t enough for Phil 2:12 tells us that we must work out our salvation, and this is where the two apparent models melt into one. Phil 2:12 means that there is more to it than being baptized. At the same time, there is a big difference between “working it out” and “working for it.”

How can we make sense of this? I would suggest Phil 2:12 can be understood as unpacking the gift of salvation, and we unpack it through our penitential acts, practices of virtue, and the like. Let me see if I can further explain my thought process. I once read that God is good – image of God – and God does good – likeness of God. I wish I could find the source to provide a proper reference, but I like this definition of what it means to be created in his image and likeness. Gen 1:26-27. No matter what we do, we cannot change the fact that our essence is good – image. It is our behavior, our likeness, that is in question. Thus, our spiritual life is about unpacking the gift of salvation, which restores our likeness to God.

So, how do we unpack this gift? We unpack it by dying to self and carrying our crosses (penitential acts, virtue, and the like) Mark 8:34. We suffer with Christ so as to share in his glory. Rom 8:13. I would strongly note that suffering is not about suffering for the sake of suffering. It is about being conformed to Christ. Rom 8:29 It is about surrendering all of the things that keep us from living in the likeness of Christ who is good and does good. It is about allowing the Holy Spirit to heal our disordered desires and anything else that causes us to behave improperly.

In closing, I would encourage you to unpack your gift of salvation with joy. While it may not come easy to experience joy in suffering, it does become easier when we constantly remember with awe and reverence that God saved us even though we were still sinners.

In Christ,

Images of God

I recently summarized a prayer journal from last month, and I came across something that had a significant impact on me. God and I were talking about marriage and how baptism is the means by which we are espoused to Christ.

While I was typing the summary, an image came to mind. It was an image of a spouse busily trying to appease the other. There was a lot of anxiety around the work. There was a lot of fear about not getting it just right. I asked, “God, is this one of those images you use to talk to me?” All of a sudden I realized that this was an image of how some people are living the spiritual life. They hastily run around hoping to earn God’s love, forgiveness, generosity, and mercy. I had this intense feeling that God wanted people to know that he is not an abusive spouse. Later, I shared this image with a friend of mine. We pondered how many people believed in a God who judges each and everything we do. How they walk through life in fear of God’s temper and how he might punish them. They walk through life in fear of an eternity in hell.

While we were talking, I had a new image, the image of a wife caring for her husband out of love. She did all the cooking, cleaning, and the like as an expression of her love for the spouse. The husband would offer to help, but she told him she had everything under control. Her understanding of love was about taking care of everything for the other.

Both of these images of God fall short because love is not only a voluntary gifting of self to the other out of love, but also the voluntary receipt of the other’s gifting of self. Love of God and neighbor requires that we give and receive. We give because we receive God through a personal encounter that starts us on the path of learning to respond to his love with love. He gives his love. We respond with love, and the cycle continues for all eternity.

In this cycle of gifting and receiving, we learn to become one with God. We learn to trust in his love and mercy. We learn that if we forget to do something, choose not to do something, or otherwise fall short, he loves us right where we are. He wants so much more for us, but he not only accepts us where we are, he stands with us right where we are.

Our God is the God of peace, love, and joy. If you find your spiritual life lacking in these, I encourage you to take your image of God to prayer. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you where your image is in need of perfection. Then enter into the amazing life long process of allowing him to perfect your image of God.

In Christ,