I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up
what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his Body, which is the Church, of which I am a minister in accordance with God’s stewardship given to me to bring to completion for you the word of God, the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past.
what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his Body, which is the Church, of which I am a minister in accordance with God’s stewardship given to me to bring to completion for you the word of God, the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past.
Ouch, Labor Day marks the end of summer, but as summers go, this one was more difficult than most. I need not list all of our privations and afflictions, public and private; but you know what I'm talking about. What happened to our lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer? We were busy.
Our labor this summer may have been our suffering for one another, in the spirit of Saint Paul. If we rejoiced in that unexpected, undeserved privilege we got the bonus of knowing we were filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the Church.
A debacle has ended the American intervention in Afghanistan, an incursion which was supposed to teach those people civility and, in fact, made us more uncivil toward one another. How might we have responded differently to 9/11? How do we respond to our own homegrown terrorist threats?
As we study the ways of peace together, we might ponder Saint Paul's suffering while he rejoiced in a Roman jail. His misery was certainly real. A man in seven league boots with enormous energy and sacred ambition, he was forced to cool his heels and wait on friends to bail him out. But that personal catastrophe changed the world as he wrote his epistles to friends he'd met and friends he hoped to meet. He fired off these breathless letters -- of which we have only a few -- and could not imagine people would read them two thousand years later in every language on Earth. The rejoicing which was born of deep suffering knew no bounds as it spread to hundred, thousands, millions, and now billions of people.
At the end of summer, no one can say how how many might be blessed by our disappointment. We surrender it to the Lord and let the Holy Trinity make of it whatever serves the mysterious purposes of God.
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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.