He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days....
Our nation fancies itself successful. It is driven by industries, churches and political parties that must succeed at all costs, that are too big to fail. Consequently, we suffer profound anxiety about failure. Uncle Sam tosses and turns throughout the night at the prospect. Something mysterious and terrifying whispers into his open, defenseless ear, "Failure is an option."
Most of us have failed in many ways, morally as well as socially and financially, in our work and in our hobbies, with our health and ambitions, with friends and family. We expected better of ourselves; and if we had any admirers they too were disappointed. Most of our failures were quiet and unnoticed, thank God. Some were spectacular. They afforded us our fifteen minutes of fame -- or infamy, as the case may be.
The synoptic gospels recalled Jesus' three predictions of his coming passion and death. Clearly he did not expect a triumphal apotheosis in Jerusalem. The crowds were prepared to welcome a conquering hero but his entry on a donkey mocked their ecstatic greeting. What they saw left them bemused and confused -- and finally angry.
Saint Paul pondered this mystery in his Letter to the Galatians: Christ ransomed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written, “Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree...
This "curse" was necessary as he adds, "...that the blessing of Abraham might be extended to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus, so that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith.
Our Catholic tradition celebrates the failure of Jesus, especially with three falls along the Way of the Cross. The Gospel of Saint John says he carried his own cross; the synoptic gospels say that Simon of Cyrene assisted. But the devotional Stations say he fell three times, each one worse than the last. There is nothing graceful or dignified about an adult's trip and fall. Polite people look the other way and say nothing if the lady seems unhurt.
As I have heard people tell of their own failures, I have come to believe that God doesn't know the meaning of the words success or failure. They are not in the Lord's vocabulary. They have their usefulness for us, of course. How else would I describe my best efforts?
In the end, I find comfort in the quip, "There are no answers; there are only stories."
The stories are gospels, one for each of us. We hope our lives with their triumphs and catastrophes are gospel stories like that of Jesus, Mary, and the saints. In every true story there is a crisis, a failure that can only be redeemed by God's mercy. I hear these stories often in the hospital ministry, and I am grateful.
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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.