When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a child, she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has been born into the world. So you also are now in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice....
In today's gospel the Lord uses as a metaphor one of the most common, and perhaps the most important human experience; that is, the anguish of childbirth and the joy of bearing a child into the world. Clearly the man has listened to the wisdom of women and made it his own. For all the ways that men labor to create something wonderful by the work of the hands, there is no comparison to that of bearing a child.
He applies this excellent metaphor to another human experience, that of sadness:
...you will weep and mourn,while the world rejoices;you will grieve, but your grief will become joy.
Somewhere, perhaps in the excitement of the Great Awakenings, Americans forgot the value of mourning. Although revival preachers harangued their congregations with unspecified accusations, they carried home an assurance of everlasting forgiveness. Nor was there need for atonement; that had been accomplished by the Lord. Enthralled by a momentary bliss, they supposed there should be no more grief or sadness. Weeping, sobbing, melting into tears, even the choke in one's throat and struggle to speak: these were not appropriate for the true believer. They cited Revelation 21:4
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, [for] the old order has passed away.”
Somewhat isolated from the emotional swings of the Great Awakenings, Catholics have continued to grieve over the passion and death of Jesus even as we rejoice in his resurrection and ascension. We have prayers like the Stations of the Cross, the Five Sorrowful Mysteries, and the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady to remind us of the beauty and blessedness of sorrow. We begin every Mass with at least a moment of remembering our sins; and we approach the Sacrament with, "O Lord, I am not worthy..." Lent is a forty day season of grief for our sins and the sins of the whole world, followed by the joy of Easter reassurance.
Psychological insights of the twentieth century recognize the worth of sorrow and the necessity of grief. We have learned to recognize the paralyzing symptoms of stifled sorrow, when individuals flee into obsessive excitement to avoid anguish. Counselors now encourage their clients to let it go and trust your feelings. Grief counselors rush into schools and businesses to help people deal with their losses.
But even then they sometimes suppose that we should just get over it. People often suppose, "I dealt with that, and it's done."
The Gospel which announces the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus teaches us that we should never forget our sorrow. We don't want to get over it; rather we learn to live with it. Even the profound sorrow of remorse over our sinful behaviors should be integrated into one's identity. Young Catholics sometimes supposed their sins were wiped away and totally forgotten by the ritual of confession, as if they never happened. Adults realize I am always a sinner, and I am loved as a sinner.
The doctrine of the Incarnation includes the blessedness of every human experience. Whether we are mad, sad, or glad, we are beautiful in God's eyes as the Father sees us through the human nature of Jesus, and with his human eyes. Everyone must pass through many unexpected and difficult passages; we often approach them with reluctance and fear. We remember them with confusion and some disappointment. They revealed our weaknesses and failings, and we came away feeling like damaged goods.
And we never forget the words of Jesus:
"I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice,and no one will take your joy away from you.On that day you will not question me about anything.Amen, amen, I say to you,whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you.”
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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.