Jesus’ words in today’s reading show us how well he knew human nature. Throughout biblical and world history we have and continue to witness the atrocities that humans afflict on each other. Jealousy, envy, avarice, and wrongful pride seem to be the motives for hurtful words and deadly weapons.
While I was absorbing the news of the horrible attacks that gangs of Haitians are inflicting on their own people, I thought of Jesus’ encounter with the woman caught in sin who was brought to him by the Pharisees. After he heard their complaint, he wrote on the ground. Slowly, these complainers walked away. Could Jesus have written down their own wounds that they did not want to confront? So, in today’s gospel, Jesus warns us not only of our own wounds and sufferings but also of the suffering that comes from persecution.
We may not be in a position to help our neighboring people of Haiti or any suffering country. But we in the USA have problems of our own. Do we choose to follow our negative instincts by cursing people who disagree with us, support legislation that undermines the poor and neglected, as well as our liberties, or begin believing that God doesn’t care about us? These are today’s persecutions about which Jesus gives warning. Then he concludes with “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”
After our souls have been scorched by the news of physical and moral atrocities, should we then evaluate how each of us contributes to negativity and hurtful tensions? Let us take our own hurts, frustration, and fear with us in our daily encounter with God. We lay bare our weakness. We allow God to work through us in the wisdom and understanding that we have already received. Yes, “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”
I offer Ted Loder’s words (Guerillas of Grace) to focus our intentions in support of all who suffer.
O persistent God,
deliver me from assuming your mercy is gentle.
pressure me that I may grow more human,
not through the lessening of my struggles,
but through an expansion of them
that will undamn me and unbury my gifts.
Deepen my hurt until I learn to share it and myself openly,
and my needs honestly.
Sharpen my fears until I name them
and release the power
I have locked in them
and they in me.