I believe that the most intimate encounter I can have with another person is to understand how Christ is working through their lives through personal suffering. Whenever I have been vulnerable and told a friend about a personal matter, whether that suffering is from eons ago or from a recent experience, I have always felt like I was sharing the deepest part of me. This is partly true because sharing our personal journey requires vulnerability and maturity. Intimacy is misguided, though, if my identity resides more in suffering rather than listening to Christ. He calls me to heal from suffering in order to glorify Him and even help others heal from wounds as well.
At bible study the next day, the bible verse we focused on was John 1:1-18 about the light overcoming the darkness. The topic of suffering came up again and the discussion focused predominately on how God always brings good out of something. How sometimes we feel as though we are in the dark and that changing our perspective of suffering to have purpose can help us. How God can use our journey to help someone else going through a similar experience and draw people together.
Then, at mass tonight, the topic of suffering came up again in the homily. A Eucharistic adorer and personal friend of the abbot, Marty, is in his final hours after battling ALS for many years. Marty wrote a book called "Joy and Suffering: My Life with ALS" that I hope to read one day. As the abbot explained the biological process of ALS, when all the muscles of the body shut down, I revisited my good friend Parkinson's disease and the neurological implications that PD leaves the patient with. PD is such a personal battle for me because my Dad was diagnosed with onset PD almost 10 years ago. This past summer my dad received a Deep Brain Stimulation surgery that has greatly increased his daily functionality. But the progression of the disease will continue, even though his symptoms have become much more manageable. The homily reminded me of how a disease weighs on a family and also draws them closer together.
I don't know if I consciously choose to define my personal journey as my family's suffering with PD, but I know that subconsciously it affects my friendships. The important lesson to remember, however, is not to be so attached to personal suffering, but to continue to work on breaking that bond and focusing on Christ's eyes. It isn't about the amount of suffering someone has experienced, but on growing closer to Christ.
Speaking of Christ's eyes, today I found out that Bl. Titus Brandsma is my patron saint of the year on the same day as the memorial of the liberation of Auschwitz 70 years ago. Bl. Titus was a priest, studied philosophy, and was tortured as a medical experiment and killed at Dachau concentration camp. He wrote an awesome prayer contemplating Our Lord's eyes.
Before an Image of Jesus Crucified
Dear Lord, when looking up at Thee, I see Thy loving eyes on me; Love overflows my humble heart, Knowing what a faithful friend Thou are.
A cup of sorrow I foresee, Which I accept for love of Thee, Thy painful way I wish to go;The only way to God I know.
My soul is full of peace and light;Although in pain, this light shines bright. For here Thou keepest to Thy breast.
My longing heart to find there rest. Leave me here freely all alone, In cell where never sunlight shone. Should no one ever speak to me,
This golden silence makes me free! For though alone, I have no fear; Never wert Thou, O Lord, so near. Sweet Jesus, please, abide with me!
My deepest peace I find in Thee
No comments:
Post a Comment