Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?"
He answered them, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.
During funerals and other sad hours we often struggle to find comforting words and we sometimes settle for reassuring promises like that of eternal life. "He's in a better place!" we say, hopefully. And then there's the preacher who said, "We should say nothing about the dead; and he's dead; and that's good."
Several years ago, when the middle class felt pretty secure with a stable economy, functioning infrastructures, reliable security forces, and unemployment at a tolerable rate; when homelessness, addiction and crime seemed on the far side of the thin blue line, many Christians, practicing and otherwise, believed that God is so good he will condemn no one to hell. It was not necessary to strive to enter through the narrow gate for it seemed wide open.
Some people lose their faith when tried by hardship; more lose it through indifference, when there are no trials. Things are going fine for them; why should they thank God for the privileges he owes them?
Saint James speaks of discipline in today's second reading, "...for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines."
Discipline works both ways. If I am put under a disciplinarian I might still resist their tyranny and suffer the consequences. Some adults have told me how they laughed at their parents' rebukes and scoldings. Some laughed at their beatings. Or I might accept the discipline and use the opportunity to improve my skills, habits, and attitudes. I might even welcome it; and, years later, thank my teachers for their severity, for it brought the peaceful fruit of righteousness.
As a hospital chaplain I see the peaceful fruits in some patients, and the dreadful suffering of others. I have noticed that some pain medications seem to increase susceptibility to pain. In many cases, they started medicating pain as teenagers, when they "experimented" with cigarettes and alcohol. There was no reason their vital young bodies should need relief from pain, but the industries promoted chemical abuse. After habitual use with crueler substances, some men cannot bear to be touched, and the slightest motion is agony for them.
I also see resolute alcoholics who enjoy months of sobriety until some slight misfortune sends them back to the bottle. They cannot bear even ordinary hardships like a death in the family, injury, or a difficult conversation. They were sober because they wanted to be, and not in obedience to God. When their desire for sobriety was overwhelmed with disappointment they capsized.
Finally, I meet patients in significant pain who bear it with equanimity. Their faithful attendance to Sunday worship and daily prayer carry them through hardship. Catholic Christianity is darker than suburban spirituality. It promises no relief from this world's discomfort. We remember Jesus' embrace of the cross and how he bore it willingly. Even as his body sagged and his knees buckled he "learned obedience from what he suffered."
The Lord teaches us the attitudes we must embrace through hardships and disappointments. Catholic spirituality expects no privilege except that of knowing God walks with us.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.