Wow! That last one was really long (but I think it was worth it). I'll try to keep subsequent posts much more brief.
I plan to post soon on the 7 gifts of the Holy Spirit, and maybe several of the virtues, fruits of the Holy Spirit, etc.
If you have any suggestions of other things you'd like to know more about, leave a comment and I'll research it & see what I can come up with.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Sunday, May 08, 2005
"Offer it up..."
These are words that every Catholic has (or should have) grown up hearing. Whenever you had a pain, whether physical or emotional, or some disappointment or any kind of suffering, your mother would tell you, "Offer it up." This was to say, turn your personal suffering into a prayer and offer it as a sacrifice, along with the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, to God the Father, in expiation for your own sins and the sins of others.
Sin always results in suffering. If not for you directly or immediately, then for someone else. There is a balance to the universe and when we sin, we upset the balance, and justice demands that the balance be restored: by making amends--righting the wrong we've done--or, if that isn't possible, by accepting the natural consequences and doing what we can to restore peace to our relationships with God, our fellow man (society) and the rest of creation (that's why one of the symbols of Justice is the balance).
Because sin abounds in this world, wherever we look, suffering is unavoidable. It is inevitable, from the moment the doctor slaps us on the butt when we enter the world, to the last moment of our death throes when we leave it.
[Dr. Alice von Hildebrand taught philosophy at a university for 37 years. (Her husband, Dietrich von Hildebrand (1889-1977), was one of the great philosophers of the last century.) Much of the following was expressed by her in 1999 in a talk on EWTN, the global Catholic television network. Some of this is paraphrase, but you can almost hear her quaint little German accent....]
Why is there suffering? This has always been one of the main arch-questions of all of human history. And, for many, one of the greatest obstacles to belief in God. Why are millions of people in despair, suffering, greiving, being tortured while we are comfortable & safe? Why, if God is all-good and all-powerful, WHY does He allow little children to be tortured? Injustice? All manner of suffering? Mankind has always searched for the answer to suffering.
The great French philosopher Gabriel Marcel (1889-1973) made a distinction between problem and mystery. Mysteries [not supernatural mysteries, such as the triune nature of God, the incarnation or transubstantiation--he's not talking about those here] are questions of human existence that are so complex & so deep that they can never be answered fully and completely. A problem is something outside myself which has no relationship to myself, but which creates a difficulty which must be solved.
Problems can be solved, and once a problem is solved, it is no longer a problem. Flying to the moon was once a problem, but we solved that problem and now we can fly to the moon. Getting computers to talk to each other was a problem, but we learned how to network computers; that problem is solved, and we can move on to the next problem.
But a mystery is something else altogether. Evil. Suffering. Although much has been written to help man deal with such things, we can never say, "Now the problem [of suffering] is solved! Now we can finally get beyond that and move on."
Because men are arrogant and impertinent, they say from time to time such things as, "OK, everybody just follow MY rules, follow MY teaching, my ideas, and you will be liberated!"
1. Buddha said, basically, we suffer because we have an illegitimate attachment to existence. So if you sort of sever your craving for existence, and you extinguish it, you're going to reach this state of calm which is the door to Nirvana. Now this is a very attractive idea. If you just follow the rules and methods of Buddhism, one fine day you'll be like the Buddha--sitting serenely, looking inward, a smile upon his face, immovable, and you say, "That must be a very comfortable state."
Now, for a moment, compare the smiling Buddha to Christ on the cross. Which is more attractive?
2. Then there was Karl Marx. His basic idea was that there isn't happiness because there is social injustice & inequality. Let the State take over completely & totally, distribute wealth equally & justly. Then you will have what? The Workers' Paradise! This was introduced in Russia in 1917, but unfortunately the Workers' Paradise turned into gulags. Well that was rather a big disillusion when you were promised Paradise and the way it was implemented, you were sent to concentration camps by the millions. What his ideas created was much worse than the injustice he was planning to correct.
Obviously, when you look at it this way, suffering is a mystery. (You can never wrap your mind all the way around it & say "Ah, now I understand it completely!")
[Here is Dr. von Hildebrand's main thesis:]
In Christianity, you'll discover two things that are unique and amazing.
1. Christianity teaches the art of suffering; and
2. (Particularly emphasized in Roman Catholicism) the meaning of suffering.
Now, I might be such a coward & a sissy that I cannot take the prick of a needle on my finger if it has no meaning. Why should I take that? I don't like it! But the amazing thing is that when Christians discover the meaning of suffering, they can carry crushing crosses, and have a smile on their faces. We're going to get there.
The art of suffering, or should I say the holy art of suffering. This is not easy to learn because (due to original sin) we have a rebellious nature and we like to enjoy things and take it easy. And so suffering comes in and disturbs all our plans.
Consider what could be termed illegitimate sufferings. Self-made sufferings. Things that we are not supposed to suffer at all, but that we do suffer because of our own fault. St. Paul said that God does not try us beyond our strength (cf. 1 Cor 10:13). But every day, we say "That's wrong. I'm tried way beyond my strength to bear it. Therefore, either St. Paul & God are wrong or it is unjust. Why should I bear this? It's too much! I can't take it!"
Now think of this: Don't add to your suffering. Suppose for example that someone is full of vanity. You love compliments and notice and people praising you ... and suddenly someone criticizes you for what you're wearing or something you said, etc., and all of a sudden you feel very depressed.
Here is an example from Pride and Prejudice [one of Dr. von Hildebrand's favorites].
Mrs. Bennett has 5 daughters and wants very badly for them all to be married. One day she goes into hysterics & fits of despair. "Nobody knows what I suffer because I never complain ... (blah, blah, blah) ...." Why was she so upset? Because her next door neighbor's daughter got engaged ahead of her own daughters. Can you imagine anything so crushing, so terrible, so absolutely heart-rending? Who can take it!? And what's more, her husband (Mr. Bennett) is a bit of a cynic and was so cruel that he couldn't manage to shed a few crocodile tears along with her! She's SO misunderstood!
Is this legitimate suffering to go through such torture over such a small thing? It is silly, it's petty. But she is suffering, no question!
Another example:
Once my husband and I were visiting an elderly countess in Spain who described to us "the most terrible night of my life."
"I was 16, going to my first ball. I had such beautiful gems, such a beautiful gown! I was convinced I was going to be the queen of the ball! And as I entered this grand hall, I noticed that my 'best friend' had jewels that were much finer than mine & her dress was much more beautiful... I was crushed! All at once, the lights became dim, the flowers lost their perfume... It was a terrible night."
Now of course we had to pretend to sympathize with her out of courtesy, all the while doing our best to contain our mirth--inside, we were in stitches--at someone suffering so much over such a petty thing.
Or say I tend to be envious of others. What is envy? I might see someone who has a quality or some possession, which I might not necessarily want for myself, but I resent that he has it. And I suffer tortures that he has something good. But if I recognize my envy for what it is, & decide that I won't let it triumph over me, I can let it go and no longer allow it to cause me suffering. If I complain to someone that I am crushed by carrying this heavy burden, and he says, "Well, why do you cary it then?" Oh, yes, you're right. I don't need to.
Or take self-pity. Suppose you go to the hospital and you start feeling sorry for yourself. "Why should this have happened to ME? Why should I go through this and it doesn't happen to so-and-so?" and you start crying over yourself, and it's like deflating a tire. In a little while it's flat and you can no longer go.
To avoid self-pity, you turn your thoughts to people who suffer more than you do. And all of a sudden you realize that you're fortunate. Maybe you lost one leg, but the guy in the next bed lost two legs and a hand! There's always the possibility that things could be worse for you. If you turn to another person lovingly, you find that you can carry your own cross more easily.
The amazing thing is that if you carry the cross of another person, yours becomes lighter, it doesn't become heavier.
By far, the worst of all sources of illegitimate suffering: Pride. And that is the suffering of Satan. The pride of someone who refuses to acknowledge that anyone or anything is higher than himself. The proud person wants to be above everything else. After all, what is pride? To want to become God. That was the original sin. "Why should HE be God & not ME? I think I could pull it off extremely well. I want to be God!"
These people suffer constant torture because they feel that other people do not discover, are so blind that they do not see that they are geniuses. You see that among university professors, many of them (not all), who are so animated by pride that they beg you, so to speak, to recognize their genius, and if you don't give the proper expected response, they are crushed & they will hate you. To feel superior to others is a terrible burden. Forgetting that their talents come from God, they forget so completely that they feel superior to God.
The two phrases that the proud person cannot utter:
"Thank you." It is simply an acknowledgement that another person has been kind to me, but it is something that is fast disappearing from the English language.
And even worse: "Forgive me." We ought to say this every day, to family members, friends, neighbors, co-workers, strangers, but most especially to God. "Forgive me, O Lord, because I am a sinner."
"What do you mean to call me a sinner!? I am a perfectly good and decent person! How dare you call me a sinner!" And you see these people suffer tortures. I know people who are paralyzed by their pride.
The trouble here is that this kind of suffering is needless because it is self-made.
If I know I have a problem being envious, for example, and I suffer because of my envy of others, I can't just say, "I won't be envious any more." It's not something you can turn off like a switch.
But I can say that this attitude is wrong and I don't want to be this way. I reject it and disavow it, I oppose it.
Then you begin the practice of what I call "holy pestering." You beg God day after day after day that He will liberate you from this sinful attitude.
St. Therese of Lisieux, from the age of 4 until 13, was a hypersensitive cry-baby. At the slightest word she would burst into tears. Hypersensitive people are so easily offended that whatever you say will be interpreted negatively, then they will either literally or figuratively storm off and feel dreadfully sorry for themselves. So it was with Therese.
Then when she was 13, the family had just returned from Christmas midnight Mass. Her sisters had decorated the house very nicely, with the beautiful tree and presents all around and so forth. Her father was elderly (63 at the time) and he was tired. As he walked in, he said "Well, I hope this is going to be the last time, because Therese is getting much too big for this." Well, this was of course one of her favorite feasts of the year. She burst out crying and ran up the stairs. Half way up the stairs, God's grace hit her. She stopped, turned around, returned to her family, smiling, and said, "from this day on I will never shed an unnecessary tear." But it took her 9 years of prayers before God granted her request to overcome this weakness.
So obviously we can't change the fact overnight, whether it is vanity, jealousy, pride, all these stupidities. But if we keep disavowing them, then you cut off the head of these ugly attitudes, and you keep begging God--holy pestering--keep knocking and keep knocking, and one day He will give it to you and then you will be liberated. And the day you are liberated, you will be capable of carrying very heavy crosses, because you won't be adding an ounce to the weight of the cross God is sending you. You will be able to bear crushing crosses, and nevertheless have peace, and have a smile on your face.
I am always noticing that some people carry crushing crosses and they're always at peace and always radiant; and some people carry just about *this much* and the next day they're flat on the floor, and telling you that they're being "treated unjustly by God, who I thought was a GOOD God..." You know, God is good as long as He does what I like. As soon as He does something I don't like, He is my enemy, He is mean, unjust and cruel.
No, a legitimate suffering is one that God chooses for me. He knows what we can handle and what is too much for us, and will not send us any more than we are able to bear. He loves us (much more than we love ourselves) and He sends us suffering to strengthen us, to teach us to call on Him for help, to teach us to help one another, to see our own weakness & come to realize that we cannot bear up under our own power, that we need Him and His grace to give us the strength to go on, to teach us patience, sympathy for others, compassion, and so on. The only way we can learn to practice virtue is by struggling with some kind of suffering, either our own or that of others.
But we need the supernatural life of God to do it. We need grace, because without Christ we can do nothing. And many of us fail to beg and beg and beg for help. We should say, "My love is about *this much*. God increase my love." Or, "My contrition is not what I know it should be, give me the gift of contrition." We are beggars. In fact, we are very happy beggars because we have a God who is so infinitely good & merciful and can give us what we ask for. We need to realize that we are just crawling on our own, but one day, if we persevere, he will give us wings.
The crosses God sends me are taylor-made. Just for me and no one else. And it fits. Me. It is very unwise to choose your own crosses because we invariably choose the wrong one & it doesn't fit & we cannot bear it. Let God send the cross that He chooses for you.
When we discover this art of suffering, we turn to Catholic teaching and we discover that suffering also has a meaning. It has no meaning in Buddhism, you're supposed to escape from it. It has no meaning in paganism, you escape from it. It has no meaning in Islam, you escape from it. For the ancient Greeks, suffering was an expression of the wrath of the gods, and you were a victim of the capricious fury of the gods.
But in Christianity, the amazing thing is that suffering is given a profound and sublime meaning. Paul Claudel (1868-1955), a great French Catholic poet, once wrote, "Christ did not come to abolish suffering, but to join in our suffering. He did not come to abolish the cross, He chose to lay down on the cross to save us."
It shows that the meaning of suffering on this earth is to be an expression of love. All of us know that when we love someone, we start to suffer. I love my child but I cannot protect him all the time. I love my spouse, my brothers, my parents, my friends, and I suddenly realize that I cannot protect them from suffering...from sickness, from poverty, from death.
Many times, I found myself fretting because my husband Dietrich was late returning from some talk he was giving, and because I love him, I worry, my imagination runs wild--he could have suffered a heart attack or been in an accident--what could have happened to him, & I cannot protect him. If you don't love somebody, you shrug and say, "Well, everybody has to die sometime, it's part of life. Why make such a big deal out of it?" But when you love someone, you can't help but suffer over them. So in this life, you cannot sever the link between love and suffering. They belong together.
But that happens to everyone, not just Christians. Now it gets even deeper. Now comes Christianity.
When Christ was crucified, suffering agonizing tortures that we cannot even picture, who was at the foot of the cross? His mother. And (I am proud to say) the other holy women. Where were the men? The apostles all fled (except St. John who came back). Why did the women stay? Because they loved more.
And the Holy Virgin could not do a thing to relieve the suffering of her beloved. Just imagine the torture of standing there for THREE HOURS seeing Him agonizing ... she can't do a thing! What did she do? She suffered with Him.
Now in modern pragmatic society, we are so utilitarian in our views, I hear some people say such stupid things as, "If he's in the hospital & they can't do anything for him, then why do you go there to visit him?"
We all know, if we have suffered, that to have someone there present, that the person cannot do a thing, cannot relieve your pain, but can simply say, "I am there and I am suffering with you."
The word compassion comes from 2 Latin words that mean to "suffer with." If you love, you want to suffer with the beloved. This is an expression of authentic love which endorses suffering because the beloved one is suffering. I am not going to say, "Oh, my husband is dying--I think I'll take a cruise to Bermuda to relax." Who would dream of doing that? How many mothers spend days and days at the side of a dying child without a thought of food or sleep--they want to be there, and they suffer with them.
The greatest love that exists is to give one's life for ones friends, and that is what Christ did for us. Not only did He suffer with us, but He suffered for us so that the doors of paradise could be reopened to us. This is the culmination of love: not only that you suffer because you love; not only that you suffer with; but that you suffer for.
Now what is the meaning of suffering for a Christian? That when I suffer a legitimate cross, sent by God--He is giving me His grace--and suddenly I realize I am deigned to join Christ on the cross, to be there with Him who has suffered--what is my suffering compared to His? And somehow in this moment He says to me, "Come close to my heart that has bled for you, that has suffered for you, that has been pierced by a lance for you."
This is why the saints, when they receive a cross, they see it as a way of coming closer to our Lord. And this is why, even though the sufferings can be terrible and agonizing, somehow they can be transfigured with a joy of knowing they are there on the cross with our Savior. This is uniquely stressed in Roman Catholicism. From this point of view, day in and day out, we should sing a song of gratitude because He has died for us, and He has given us the grace to carry our crosses.
How do we make suffering a joy?
Well, we cannot make it so by an act of will. But by accepting it, by meditating on the meaning of suffering, on the greatness of Christ's sacrifice (and our voluntary participation in it), one day it can be given to us as a reward.
One of the things my husband Dietrich developed so well was the idea that there are things I can do, and there are things I cannot do. I can command an action--I am going to drink--and I do it. But there are many things that I cannot command by an act of will, and nevertheless there is a great deal that I can do about it indirectly. He calls it "indirect freedom."
For example, one's prayer life. Or one's meditation on the sacrifice of Christ on the cross, that you read the passion in the gospels and meditate on it. That you read in the lives of the saints and you see the sufferings they have borne for the sake of God's kingdom. And one very fine day it comes to you as a sort of reward, but you cannot command it. It is something that God gives to those who are faithful & persevering, and obviously it doesn't come overnight.
Is suffering a part of one's purification?
When we sin, and we all do of course, we owe a "debt" of sorts to God. Now in actuality, there is no way we can physically injure God the Father, and there is no way we can pay a debt of any kind to God, who created the entire universe out of nothing and is totally self-sufficient from all eternity, and technically has no need of us or anything that we can give Him or do for Him.
But God is not technical, and He created us out of love and for love, and we give Him that love--just because He is God.
You can think of it like a king who has a subject who refuses to pay the ordinary homage of respect to the king. Now the subject owes the king respect just because he is the king. If he refuses to show such respect, the king has every right to throw him into prison until he does. When we sin, we are offending the infinite love and majesty of God and, in all justice, we must make amends.
Once I experience authentic contrition, "Lord, have mercy on me, I am a sinner," then comes the desire to pay my debt, and usually this is suffering. But in Christianity it goes beyond that, because I not only suffer to expiate my own sins, which I should do, but I can also suffer for others. Suppose I have satisfied all the requirements of justice for my own debts. Then I can offer my suffering for the debts of others, and God accepts that in the service of love for my fellow man. We can pray and suffer for those who reject suffering, who may even commit crimes to avoid suffering. Then comes a moment of joy because like Christ, and with Him, we are suffering for the sins of others.
Expiation for sins is a punishment, and punishment is not supposed to be pleasant, that's not in the nature of punishment. You don't tell a child, "I'm going to punish you for what you did. Here is some ice cream." He won't learn that he's done something wrong and to avoid it in the future. So punishment has an essential element of education to it.
Sin always results in suffering. If not for you directly or immediately, then for someone else. There is a balance to the universe and when we sin, we upset the balance, and justice demands that the balance be restored: by making amends--righting the wrong we've done--or, if that isn't possible, by accepting the natural consequences and doing what we can to restore peace to our relationships with God, our fellow man (society) and the rest of creation (that's why one of the symbols of Justice is the balance).
Because sin abounds in this world, wherever we look, suffering is unavoidable. It is inevitable, from the moment the doctor slaps us on the butt when we enter the world, to the last moment of our death throes when we leave it.
[Dr. Alice von Hildebrand taught philosophy at a university for 37 years. (Her husband, Dietrich von Hildebrand (1889-1977), was one of the great philosophers of the last century.) Much of the following was expressed by her in 1999 in a talk on EWTN, the global Catholic television network. Some of this is paraphrase, but you can almost hear her quaint little German accent....]
Why is there suffering? This has always been one of the main arch-questions of all of human history. And, for many, one of the greatest obstacles to belief in God. Why are millions of people in despair, suffering, greiving, being tortured while we are comfortable & safe? Why, if God is all-good and all-powerful, WHY does He allow little children to be tortured? Injustice? All manner of suffering? Mankind has always searched for the answer to suffering.
The great French philosopher Gabriel Marcel (1889-1973) made a distinction between problem and mystery. Mysteries [not supernatural mysteries, such as the triune nature of God, the incarnation or transubstantiation--he's not talking about those here] are questions of human existence that are so complex & so deep that they can never be answered fully and completely. A problem is something outside myself which has no relationship to myself, but which creates a difficulty which must be solved.
Problems can be solved, and once a problem is solved, it is no longer a problem. Flying to the moon was once a problem, but we solved that problem and now we can fly to the moon. Getting computers to talk to each other was a problem, but we learned how to network computers; that problem is solved, and we can move on to the next problem.
But a mystery is something else altogether. Evil. Suffering. Although much has been written to help man deal with such things, we can never say, "Now the problem [of suffering] is solved! Now we can finally get beyond that and move on."
Because men are arrogant and impertinent, they say from time to time such things as, "OK, everybody just follow MY rules, follow MY teaching, my ideas, and you will be liberated!"
1. Buddha said, basically, we suffer because we have an illegitimate attachment to existence. So if you sort of sever your craving for existence, and you extinguish it, you're going to reach this state of calm which is the door to Nirvana. Now this is a very attractive idea. If you just follow the rules and methods of Buddhism, one fine day you'll be like the Buddha--sitting serenely, looking inward, a smile upon his face, immovable, and you say, "That must be a very comfortable state."
Now, for a moment, compare the smiling Buddha to Christ on the cross. Which is more attractive?
2. Then there was Karl Marx. His basic idea was that there isn't happiness because there is social injustice & inequality. Let the State take over completely & totally, distribute wealth equally & justly. Then you will have what? The Workers' Paradise! This was introduced in Russia in 1917, but unfortunately the Workers' Paradise turned into gulags. Well that was rather a big disillusion when you were promised Paradise and the way it was implemented, you were sent to concentration camps by the millions. What his ideas created was much worse than the injustice he was planning to correct.
Obviously, when you look at it this way, suffering is a mystery. (You can never wrap your mind all the way around it & say "Ah, now I understand it completely!")
[Here is Dr. von Hildebrand's main thesis:]
In Christianity, you'll discover two things that are unique and amazing.
1. Christianity teaches the art of suffering; and
2. (Particularly emphasized in Roman Catholicism) the meaning of suffering.
Now, I might be such a coward & a sissy that I cannot take the prick of a needle on my finger if it has no meaning. Why should I take that? I don't like it! But the amazing thing is that when Christians discover the meaning of suffering, they can carry crushing crosses, and have a smile on their faces. We're going to get there.
The art of suffering, or should I say the holy art of suffering. This is not easy to learn because (due to original sin) we have a rebellious nature and we like to enjoy things and take it easy. And so suffering comes in and disturbs all our plans.
Consider what could be termed illegitimate sufferings. Self-made sufferings. Things that we are not supposed to suffer at all, but that we do suffer because of our own fault. St. Paul said that God does not try us beyond our strength (cf. 1 Cor 10:13). But every day, we say "That's wrong. I'm tried way beyond my strength to bear it. Therefore, either St. Paul & God are wrong or it is unjust. Why should I bear this? It's too much! I can't take it!"
Now think of this: Don't add to your suffering. Suppose for example that someone is full of vanity. You love compliments and notice and people praising you ... and suddenly someone criticizes you for what you're wearing or something you said, etc., and all of a sudden you feel very depressed.
Here is an example from Pride and Prejudice [one of Dr. von Hildebrand's favorites].
Mrs. Bennett has 5 daughters and wants very badly for them all to be married. One day she goes into hysterics & fits of despair. "Nobody knows what I suffer because I never complain ... (blah, blah, blah) ...." Why was she so upset? Because her next door neighbor's daughter got engaged ahead of her own daughters. Can you imagine anything so crushing, so terrible, so absolutely heart-rending? Who can take it!? And what's more, her husband (Mr. Bennett) is a bit of a cynic and was so cruel that he couldn't manage to shed a few crocodile tears along with her! She's SO misunderstood!
Is this legitimate suffering to go through such torture over such a small thing? It is silly, it's petty. But she is suffering, no question!
Another example:
Once my husband and I were visiting an elderly countess in Spain who described to us "the most terrible night of my life."
"I was 16, going to my first ball. I had such beautiful gems, such a beautiful gown! I was convinced I was going to be the queen of the ball! And as I entered this grand hall, I noticed that my 'best friend' had jewels that were much finer than mine & her dress was much more beautiful... I was crushed! All at once, the lights became dim, the flowers lost their perfume... It was a terrible night."
Now of course we had to pretend to sympathize with her out of courtesy, all the while doing our best to contain our mirth--inside, we were in stitches--at someone suffering so much over such a petty thing.
Or say I tend to be envious of others. What is envy? I might see someone who has a quality or some possession, which I might not necessarily want for myself, but I resent that he has it. And I suffer tortures that he has something good. But if I recognize my envy for what it is, & decide that I won't let it triumph over me, I can let it go and no longer allow it to cause me suffering. If I complain to someone that I am crushed by carrying this heavy burden, and he says, "Well, why do you cary it then?" Oh, yes, you're right. I don't need to.
Or take self-pity. Suppose you go to the hospital and you start feeling sorry for yourself. "Why should this have happened to ME? Why should I go through this and it doesn't happen to so-and-so?" and you start crying over yourself, and it's like deflating a tire. In a little while it's flat and you can no longer go.
To avoid self-pity, you turn your thoughts to people who suffer more than you do. And all of a sudden you realize that you're fortunate. Maybe you lost one leg, but the guy in the next bed lost two legs and a hand! There's always the possibility that things could be worse for you. If you turn to another person lovingly, you find that you can carry your own cross more easily.
The amazing thing is that if you carry the cross of another person, yours becomes lighter, it doesn't become heavier.
By far, the worst of all sources of illegitimate suffering: Pride. And that is the suffering of Satan. The pride of someone who refuses to acknowledge that anyone or anything is higher than himself. The proud person wants to be above everything else. After all, what is pride? To want to become God. That was the original sin. "Why should HE be God & not ME? I think I could pull it off extremely well. I want to be God!"
These people suffer constant torture because they feel that other people do not discover, are so blind that they do not see that they are geniuses. You see that among university professors, many of them (not all), who are so animated by pride that they beg you, so to speak, to recognize their genius, and if you don't give the proper expected response, they are crushed & they will hate you. To feel superior to others is a terrible burden. Forgetting that their talents come from God, they forget so completely that they feel superior to God.
The two phrases that the proud person cannot utter:
"Thank you." It is simply an acknowledgement that another person has been kind to me, but it is something that is fast disappearing from the English language.
And even worse: "Forgive me." We ought to say this every day, to family members, friends, neighbors, co-workers, strangers, but most especially to God. "Forgive me, O Lord, because I am a sinner."
"What do you mean to call me a sinner!? I am a perfectly good and decent person! How dare you call me a sinner!" And you see these people suffer tortures. I know people who are paralyzed by their pride.
The trouble here is that this kind of suffering is needless because it is self-made.
If I know I have a problem being envious, for example, and I suffer because of my envy of others, I can't just say, "I won't be envious any more." It's not something you can turn off like a switch.
But I can say that this attitude is wrong and I don't want to be this way. I reject it and disavow it, I oppose it.
Then you begin the practice of what I call "holy pestering." You beg God day after day after day that He will liberate you from this sinful attitude.
St. Therese of Lisieux, from the age of 4 until 13, was a hypersensitive cry-baby. At the slightest word she would burst into tears. Hypersensitive people are so easily offended that whatever you say will be interpreted negatively, then they will either literally or figuratively storm off and feel dreadfully sorry for themselves. So it was with Therese.
Then when she was 13, the family had just returned from Christmas midnight Mass. Her sisters had decorated the house very nicely, with the beautiful tree and presents all around and so forth. Her father was elderly (63 at the time) and he was tired. As he walked in, he said "Well, I hope this is going to be the last time, because Therese is getting much too big for this." Well, this was of course one of her favorite feasts of the year. She burst out crying and ran up the stairs. Half way up the stairs, God's grace hit her. She stopped, turned around, returned to her family, smiling, and said, "from this day on I will never shed an unnecessary tear." But it took her 9 years of prayers before God granted her request to overcome this weakness.
So obviously we can't change the fact overnight, whether it is vanity, jealousy, pride, all these stupidities. But if we keep disavowing them, then you cut off the head of these ugly attitudes, and you keep begging God--holy pestering--keep knocking and keep knocking, and one day He will give it to you and then you will be liberated. And the day you are liberated, you will be capable of carrying very heavy crosses, because you won't be adding an ounce to the weight of the cross God is sending you. You will be able to bear crushing crosses, and nevertheless have peace, and have a smile on your face.
I am always noticing that some people carry crushing crosses and they're always at peace and always radiant; and some people carry just about *this much* and the next day they're flat on the floor, and telling you that they're being "treated unjustly by God, who I thought was a GOOD God..." You know, God is good as long as He does what I like. As soon as He does something I don't like, He is my enemy, He is mean, unjust and cruel.
No, a legitimate suffering is one that God chooses for me. He knows what we can handle and what is too much for us, and will not send us any more than we are able to bear. He loves us (much more than we love ourselves) and He sends us suffering to strengthen us, to teach us to call on Him for help, to teach us to help one another, to see our own weakness & come to realize that we cannot bear up under our own power, that we need Him and His grace to give us the strength to go on, to teach us patience, sympathy for others, compassion, and so on. The only way we can learn to practice virtue is by struggling with some kind of suffering, either our own or that of others.
But we need the supernatural life of God to do it. We need grace, because without Christ we can do nothing. And many of us fail to beg and beg and beg for help. We should say, "My love is about *this much*. God increase my love." Or, "My contrition is not what I know it should be, give me the gift of contrition." We are beggars. In fact, we are very happy beggars because we have a God who is so infinitely good & merciful and can give us what we ask for. We need to realize that we are just crawling on our own, but one day, if we persevere, he will give us wings.
The crosses God sends me are taylor-made. Just for me and no one else. And it fits. Me. It is very unwise to choose your own crosses because we invariably choose the wrong one & it doesn't fit & we cannot bear it. Let God send the cross that He chooses for you.
When we discover this art of suffering, we turn to Catholic teaching and we discover that suffering also has a meaning. It has no meaning in Buddhism, you're supposed to escape from it. It has no meaning in paganism, you escape from it. It has no meaning in Islam, you escape from it. For the ancient Greeks, suffering was an expression of the wrath of the gods, and you were a victim of the capricious fury of the gods.
But in Christianity, the amazing thing is that suffering is given a profound and sublime meaning. Paul Claudel (1868-1955), a great French Catholic poet, once wrote, "Christ did not come to abolish suffering, but to join in our suffering. He did not come to abolish the cross, He chose to lay down on the cross to save us."
It shows that the meaning of suffering on this earth is to be an expression of love. All of us know that when we love someone, we start to suffer. I love my child but I cannot protect him all the time. I love my spouse, my brothers, my parents, my friends, and I suddenly realize that I cannot protect them from suffering...from sickness, from poverty, from death.
Many times, I found myself fretting because my husband Dietrich was late returning from some talk he was giving, and because I love him, I worry, my imagination runs wild--he could have suffered a heart attack or been in an accident--what could have happened to him, & I cannot protect him. If you don't love somebody, you shrug and say, "Well, everybody has to die sometime, it's part of life. Why make such a big deal out of it?" But when you love someone, you can't help but suffer over them. So in this life, you cannot sever the link between love and suffering. They belong together.
But that happens to everyone, not just Christians. Now it gets even deeper. Now comes Christianity.
When Christ was crucified, suffering agonizing tortures that we cannot even picture, who was at the foot of the cross? His mother. And (I am proud to say) the other holy women. Where were the men? The apostles all fled (except St. John who came back). Why did the women stay? Because they loved more.
And the Holy Virgin could not do a thing to relieve the suffering of her beloved. Just imagine the torture of standing there for THREE HOURS seeing Him agonizing ... she can't do a thing! What did she do? She suffered with Him.
Now in modern pragmatic society, we are so utilitarian in our views, I hear some people say such stupid things as, "If he's in the hospital & they can't do anything for him, then why do you go there to visit him?"
We all know, if we have suffered, that to have someone there present, that the person cannot do a thing, cannot relieve your pain, but can simply say, "I am there and I am suffering with you."
The word compassion comes from 2 Latin words that mean to "suffer with." If you love, you want to suffer with the beloved. This is an expression of authentic love which endorses suffering because the beloved one is suffering. I am not going to say, "Oh, my husband is dying--I think I'll take a cruise to Bermuda to relax." Who would dream of doing that? How many mothers spend days and days at the side of a dying child without a thought of food or sleep--they want to be there, and they suffer with them.
The greatest love that exists is to give one's life for ones friends, and that is what Christ did for us. Not only did He suffer with us, but He suffered for us so that the doors of paradise could be reopened to us. This is the culmination of love: not only that you suffer because you love; not only that you suffer with; but that you suffer for.
Now what is the meaning of suffering for a Christian? That when I suffer a legitimate cross, sent by God--He is giving me His grace--and suddenly I realize I am deigned to join Christ on the cross, to be there with Him who has suffered--what is my suffering compared to His? And somehow in this moment He says to me, "Come close to my heart that has bled for you, that has suffered for you, that has been pierced by a lance for you."
This is why the saints, when they receive a cross, they see it as a way of coming closer to our Lord. And this is why, even though the sufferings can be terrible and agonizing, somehow they can be transfigured with a joy of knowing they are there on the cross with our Savior. This is uniquely stressed in Roman Catholicism. From this point of view, day in and day out, we should sing a song of gratitude because He has died for us, and He has given us the grace to carry our crosses.
How do we make suffering a joy?
Well, we cannot make it so by an act of will. But by accepting it, by meditating on the meaning of suffering, on the greatness of Christ's sacrifice (and our voluntary participation in it), one day it can be given to us as a reward.
One of the things my husband Dietrich developed so well was the idea that there are things I can do, and there are things I cannot do. I can command an action--I am going to drink--and I do it. But there are many things that I cannot command by an act of will, and nevertheless there is a great deal that I can do about it indirectly. He calls it "indirect freedom."
For example, one's prayer life. Or one's meditation on the sacrifice of Christ on the cross, that you read the passion in the gospels and meditate on it. That you read in the lives of the saints and you see the sufferings they have borne for the sake of God's kingdom. And one very fine day it comes to you as a sort of reward, but you cannot command it. It is something that God gives to those who are faithful & persevering, and obviously it doesn't come overnight.
Is suffering a part of one's purification?
When we sin, and we all do of course, we owe a "debt" of sorts to God. Now in actuality, there is no way we can physically injure God the Father, and there is no way we can pay a debt of any kind to God, who created the entire universe out of nothing and is totally self-sufficient from all eternity, and technically has no need of us or anything that we can give Him or do for Him.
But God is not technical, and He created us out of love and for love, and we give Him that love--just because He is God.
You can think of it like a king who has a subject who refuses to pay the ordinary homage of respect to the king. Now the subject owes the king respect just because he is the king. If he refuses to show such respect, the king has every right to throw him into prison until he does. When we sin, we are offending the infinite love and majesty of God and, in all justice, we must make amends.
Once I experience authentic contrition, "Lord, have mercy on me, I am a sinner," then comes the desire to pay my debt, and usually this is suffering. But in Christianity it goes beyond that, because I not only suffer to expiate my own sins, which I should do, but I can also suffer for others. Suppose I have satisfied all the requirements of justice for my own debts. Then I can offer my suffering for the debts of others, and God accepts that in the service of love for my fellow man. We can pray and suffer for those who reject suffering, who may even commit crimes to avoid suffering. Then comes a moment of joy because like Christ, and with Him, we are suffering for the sins of others.
Expiation for sins is a punishment, and punishment is not supposed to be pleasant, that's not in the nature of punishment. You don't tell a child, "I'm going to punish you for what you did. Here is some ice cream." He won't learn that he's done something wrong and to avoid it in the future. So punishment has an essential element of education to it.
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