The Paradox of the Cross

Joy in the Midst of Sorrow (excerpts) by Deacon Michael Bickerstaff

(Original article published by The Integrated Catholic Life - www.integratedcatholiclife.org)

The Cross is the great paradox of Christianity. More than a few people have asked over the years why the Catholic Church focuses so prominently and persistently on the Crucifix, that it is too intense a reminder of the suffering and sorrow in the world.

We begin Holy Week with the celebration of Palm Sunday and we are reminded of this paradox. The gospel account of Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem by Jesus is proclaimed from the doors of the Church. Then, the Passion narrative from Matthew's gospel is proclaimed. From cheering crowds to insane hatred and attack.

What are we to make of this?

Looking back over my life, I can recall numerous occasions of pain. My earliest memories of pain involved occasions of embarrassment as a very young child; the events do not count for much now, but at the time, mortification would not have been too strong a word to describe my feelings. There followed all of the normal

moments of discomfort that can be expected to be experienced by a child and young teenager growing up in an affluent country. Real suffering and loss had not yet arrived; no hunger, serious illness or homelessness ... but I would come to be greatly affected by death.

When I turned 16 years of age, the first loss from death intruded into my life. My father died when the turmoil of the teen years was most challenging. I was lost both due to the hole in my heart left by the death of a father I loved and also due to the selfish anger I experienced which I directed at others I loved and respected.

I did not understand then, but came to know with greater confidence much later in life, that God never forsakes us, especially in our time of sorrow and pain. The most enduring emotion of those days and years following the death of my father was a feeling of separation - the divide that separated my earthly father from me. And the more I thought of this loss, the more aware I became of that separation. For a long while, the certainty grew that I would never again be together with my father. Although I accepted the assurances of family and friends that I would be together again with my father in the life to come, such a thought did not comfort me; it had little meaning. I came to believe that not even time would heal the hurt.

Before things would improve for me, I also went through a long period of regret; regret of a son who did not love his father perfectly, regret for all the little ways I failed to return my father's love when he was alive ... and later, regret for how I selfishly redirected my anger towards my mother who was hurting as much or more than I was.

Time does heal, but not in the way we often think. And so it was that my time with my earthly father and the years since his death became a part of my prayerful reflections. Maybe for the first time, I seriously considered the well-being of my father instead of self. My prayers for him became more urgent, more real. My prayer turned outward, concerned for others and not just for my needs and wants.

Through prayer, God revealed to me His love that never fails; a love that is never absent from our lives, no matter where we try to run and hide. God the Father was waiting for my humility to overcome pride and selfabsorption. I came to better realize that the pain of loss and the heightened awareness of separation from my earthly father also applied to my relationship with God. The cause of the suffering and sorrow of this "vale of tears" was our own doing - the separation from God the Father that we suffered at the Fall of Mankind and continue to cause through our own personal sin.

And here is another paradox - the closer we grow in relationship to God, the more aware we become of our separation from him. But for the Christian, this is not a cause for added sorrow alone, but for joy as well; for we come to understand that his love will defeat all sorrow and will erase all pain in the end. This is not a spirit of pessimism or of disordered focus on suffering; it is a spirit of hopefulness.

It is said that the souls suffering in Purgatory experience a far greater suffering than we do on earth, for they now know the effect and degree of their sin, the harm their sins have caused and the justice of their punishments, but they are also said to be more filled with joy than we are because they are certain of their destination and of God's love for them. Yes, their suffering is more intense because they are more aware of their separation from God, but their joy is more intense because they are more aware of God's love for them and the certainty that they will spend all eternity singing his praises in Heaven ... heightened joy of knowing they will soon be with God, but sorrow that it is just not yet.

The path to glory leads through the Cross. St. John's Gospel reminds us of this. God loves you so much that he became man to suffer and die so that you might live; for us, a reason for sorrow, yet also a reason for joy. And so, in the gospel narratives for Palm Sunday, we see the joy of the entry into Jerusalem and the horror of the Passion. We will not see the joy of the Resurrection until the victory over death is apparent on Easter Sunday.

There is no joy without suffering. There is no life without death. It need not have been this way. It is not God's design; it is ours. Now that our God has revealed to us his infinite goodness and love for us, we are able to bear our pains and suffering upon the hope and joy that Jesus has won for us. And with this knowledge, we are able to grow spiritually, grow in holiness; knowing that nothing in this life need be lasting. No sin is unforgivable, no one is lost who beyond redemption, there is no sorrow that cannot be healed with God's love and mercy. By His Passion and Death, Christ has won a great victory for us; a victory that is made manifest on Easter. Rejoice and be glad, even in the midst of suffering.

Discussion Questions:

1. Why do Catholics observe the practices of fast and abstinence? How does the discipline of self-denial strengthen us?

2. Our God alone, not the things of this world, can satisfy the deepest hunger of man's soul. How does sin create hunger in our souls? How does God invite us to quiet that unrest?

3. God said, "It is not good that the man should be alone." What ways does God provide for us to restore relationships and to recapture a portion of the intimacy of Eden?

4. Is there paradox when God allows bad things to happen to good people?