‘This child is destined for the rise and fall of many’
Credit to Author: Ricardo Saludo| Date: Sat, 01 Feb 2020 18:06:21 +0000
Behold, this child is destined for the rise and fall of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted — and you yourself a sword will pierce — so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.
— The prophet Simeon to Mary, Luke 2:33-35
Why is God allowing calamities in Taal and Wuhan? Is He delivering a message to awaken religiosity? Is He punishing sins like the persecution of Christians? Or is God not in the picture at all?
Today’s Mass goers may get an inkling of the answers in the readings. The first reading from the Prophet Malachi warns about the promised “messenger of [God’s] covenant”:
“But who will endure the day of his coming? And who can stand when he appears? For he is like the refiner’s fire, or the fuller’s lye. He will sit refining and purifying silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi, refining them like gold or like silver that they may offer due sacrifice to the Lord” (Malachi 3:2-3).
The Letter to the Hebrews following Malachi further speaks of trials. Of Christ the Epistle declares:
“Since the children share in blood and flesh, Jesus likewise shared in them, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who through fear of death had been subject to slavery all their life. …Because he himself was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested” (Hebrews 2:14-15, 18).
And if there were any doubt about the message of suffering in the first two readings, the Gospel of Luke should remove it. At the Presentation of the Child Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem, as required by Jewish law for all first-born sons, the holy man Simeon spoke to the Blessed Virgin Mary the words quoted at the start of this article.
The God Who suffers
Okay, one may say, one gets the point about God’s suffering streak. But why the divine wish to suffer, in the first place, and suffer us to suffer, too? Many a solemn soul have intoned that the downpour of Taal ash and the spawn of Wuhan microbes should lead people to look to God in prayer and one another in solidarity and sympathy.
Sure, but there’s more to the world’s woes than just saying sorry for sin and delivering the distressed from disaster. After all, the greatest pains were, in fact, visited upon the holiest and utterly unblemished: Jesus and Mary. And so it is for countless innocents buried or banished by Batangas ashfall, and diseased or deceased from the Hubei virus.
Plainly, pain isn’t always punishment. Rather than chastisement for the iniquitous, what suffering should always bring even for the upright are endurance and strength, compassion and solidarity, unyielding faith and hope in the Lord, and a sharing in His own infinitely greater agonies, from His tolerance of imperfect creatures since the dawn of creation, to His endless forgiveness and grace for humanity’s repeated offenses.
In sum, suffering in love for others is the core of the Divine, the heavenly agonies to which Christ lifted humanity’s earthly distress and death. And he invites all of us to partake of sacrifice, the greatest act of God as man, by denying ourselves, taking up our crosses and following him.
Why welcome calamity?
So, going back to Taal, Wuhan and other distressed places over the centuries and across the planet, those times of trial and tribulation offer a touch of the divine, even as we call on heaven to end such pains.
Many readers may now be asking if they’re supposed to welcome disasters and debacles, since suffering brings one to God, sharing in His own agonies. Sounds masochistic, if not mad, if you ask some.
Well, let’s have another look at the Gospel story about the Presentation of the Lord. Mary and Joseph fulfill their Jewish obligation by offering their firstborn to God, along with two young pigeons, as the law prescribes. That shows their righteousness.
More justification comes from the holy Simeon and Anna, who extol the infant as the promised Messiah. But the exultation is short-lived, when Simeon declares that Jesus and Mary would suffer when our Lord becomes “a sign that will be contradicted.”
Here then lies the crux of the Cross: when we take up God’s truth, will, and love, as Jesus did, we shall be opposed by the world, leading to suffering, seeming defeat, and even death. Just ask the martyrs.
Following Christ’s way, truth and life also means going among the suffering, whether in ash-buried barangay (villages) or virus-spooked cities, to bring the solace and succor of God. That means suffering, too, obviously, and would surely be contradicted by most.
But for these seemingly thankless troubles, heaven’s bounties are peace and joy, as Simeon and Anna show. Their long wait for salvation is rewarded, and they face their final days with equanimity and happiness.
Mary, too, is not distressed by Simeon’s prophesy of a sword piercing her heart, but pondered all these things in her heart, with no distress mentioned anywhere in Scripture. Nor did Joseph manifest any grave unease, just as he seemed to have faced calmly the threat of Herodian massacre and the subsequent exile to Egypt.
Danger and distress show whether we trust our Lord, embrace suffering with and for him, and come together with him and one another in solidarity and caring. Others, meanwhile, are gripped with fear, stocking up face masks, rather than sharing.
Thus, as Simeon said, “The thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” in the crush of crisis, and those showing faith, hope, and charity may be ridiculed, disdained, and otherwise contradicted.
And in this disaster-driven baring of heart, mind and soul, many rise to glorious service and sacrifice, while others fall into a desperate scramble for survival.
May we follow the path of Christ toward the fullness of joy in this life and next. Amen.