Tag: cross

Compassion for people with a face like flint

There is so much suffering in the world. Near and far. I think of the people in regions where there is war and terror. Many innocent people have to go through terrible things. Sometimes for a long time. A sentence from the third song of the Lord’s Servant in Isaiah comes to mind: “Therefore I have set my face like flint” (Isaiah 50:7). It is terrible when someone – in order to survive injustice and suffering – has to make their face as hard as stone. Just as Jesus did before Pontius Pilate. Normally our cheeks are soft and sensitive. I remember in my youth seeing mothers testing the temperature of their children’s milk bottles on their cheeks.

What can we, who are not affected by this fate, do when we see the suffering in the news, on social media or in our neighborhoods? At least we can let it touch our hearts. St. Paul says: “If one part suffers, all the other parts suffer with it.” (1 Cor 12:26) Let’s be compassionate! We can carry this suffering to the cross of Jesus on behalf of the suffering people. We can, like Mother Mary stand with her Son, beside the cross. As the ancient sequence Stabat Mater sings:

At the Cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last. (…)

Is there one who would not weep,
Whelm’d in miseries so deep,
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?

Since the suffering must remain strong and apathetic, since they cannot allow themselves to be emotional or to cry, since they must make their cheeks hard, we can at least be touched by what they are going through. We can cry for them and hope that this cry reaches heaven.

Lord, let me learn and practice compassion. Look upon all those who suffer. Give them strength, give them hope, give them people to comfort them. Let their angels be with them. Let your holy suffering be their salvation.

Embracing the Cross

Sometimes there is a lot on our plate. Sometimes it is just too much what we have to bear. It is then that we realize what Jesus meant when he said everybody has to carry his cross. During my sabbatical time a couple years ago, I had the privilege to visit Glendalough, a 6th century monastery village in Ireland. Nestled in beautiful landscape are ruins of monastery houses and chapels and also a tall cross about twelve feet high. I was told if one was able to wrap one’s arms around the cross while making a wish, the wish would become true. I tried this, along with many others, but to be honest, I forgot the wish I had and I forgot if it later became true. Still it was a nice ritual.

Later somebody showed me the picture taken from the event and suddenly I realized what I actually did: I embraced the cross! This is the meaning of the ritual—if we embrace our cross, which always seems to be big – too big –, if we manage to fully take it on and accept it, our wish will be fulfilled. It means we will be okay. What will happen will be good for us. We will be ourselves instead of running away from ourselves, avoiding our cross. The cross is heavier if we don’t accept it. Instead, the suffering, if voluntarily accepted like Christ did, is a way to redemption. Seen from this perspective, it becomes again true what Jesus said: My yoke is easy, and my burden is light (Mt 11:30). It is difficult to accept our cross; it requires some stretching on our part, but we will be able to do it.

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“My yoke is easy.” (Mt 11:30)