The War Within

In the depth of our hearts, Satan and his minions seek to drag us to hell while God and His angels give us every opportunity to reach heaven. We are in dark times. Many have died and it’s likely that many more will perish. The problems of the coronavirus pandemic are serious and far-reaching. However, the danger lies not in the possibility that we may get sick and die. The greatest risk is that we will fall into despair. If we lose hope in our Triune God and His Church, then all hope is lost.

We cannot deny the seriousness of the situation in the world. Hundreds of thousands are sick, and it is possible that millions more may become infected and die. Daily life is beginning to change as governments attempt to contain the virus by locking down cities and nations. Economies are grinding to a halt. The prospects for the world seem to grow darker by the day.

Enter the enemy. Satan has a plan for all of us. He works amidst the turmoil. A thought is whispered within the recesses of our hearts: “All is lost.” This lie may begin as a whisper, but it grows into a bellowing cry as we see the world careen out of control around us. Satan rejoices as he finds men in the midst of panic. We give ourselves over to the works of the enemy when we revert to our lower nature. Driven by fear, we begin to act like savages, allowing our base instincts to consume us.

We open ourselves up to the enemy when we lose our peace. In a recent interview, Dan Burke, author, speaker, and former president of EWTN, reminded us that the default state for a Christian is to experience peace and joy. He went further to argue that if we are experiencing doubt, despair, or selfishness, then we are not living our lives as we should. If we aren’t experiencing peace and joy in our lives, then something is wrong.

This may seem impossible. How is it that I can experience peace and joy if I’m in a state of physical agony or if the world is quite literally coming to pieces around me? This is where our Catholic faith shines brightest. Unlike other Christians, we do not measure God’s goodness by the positive things that happen in our lives. Yes, we give thanks to God for all that is good, but it would be a mistake to think that everything is going to be easy for us and that things will work out in our favor if we have faith in God.

Instead, we embrace the truth of the cross. We recognize that those whom God loves most are often those whom He asks to suffer in the most agonizing of ways. After all, if God sent His only son into the world to be rejected, tortured, and killed, then why are we surprised when God asks us to suffer as well?

Pride is ultimately what causes us to reject the gift of suffering. We feel entitled to the things in our lives. We see a vision for ourselves and how our lives should unfold, and we come apart when things don’t go our way. God uses suffering to draw us closer into relation with Him. This current pandemic should reveal to us the true frailty and weakness of our earthly state. Despite all of our technology, our advanced medicine, and our wealth, we are powerless against a virus. The reality of our weakness in light of the current crisis illuminates a more pervasive human weakness: that no man can escape death.

When things go wrong at such a high level, on the global stage, we see the very fabric of society begin to rip apart. Why is this? Why is it that despite our modern enlightened way of thinking that our world descends into chaos at a moment such as this? Most of our modern life is built upon a foundation of sand. In our own country, we operate under the flawed notion that we can achieve anything through hard work and resilience. The danger of our American work ethic is that it puts all of the responsibility on us. We cling to pride and make the mistake of thinking that the fate of the world is determined by our own efforts.

Failure to recognize God’s work in the world is what leads us to build houses on sand. We embrace self-reliance, put our heads down, and achieve positive results. This approach works well when the environment that we operate in is well-ordered and relatively under control. However, when we fail despite our best efforts, the bottom falls out and we are washed away by a raging current of despair.

Make no mistake, we are in the midst of a battle. Yes, there is an external conflict. The fight to contain coronavirus is dire and the gravity of the situation should not to be underestimated. Beneath the surface of the conflict in the world lies the battle for souls. “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. We have an enemy. And he has one purpose; to destroy us”(1).

Our response to this reality is simple: be vigilant: “But watch at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of man”(2). As we are tested in the coming weeks and months, let us increase our devotions and seek union with God more earnestly.

Finally, let us turn to our Blessed Mother in this time of difficulty. Let us seek her intercession as we pray for an end to this crisis and for the strength to increase our confidence in God:

The Star of Heaven that nourished the Lord
drove away the plague of death which the first
parents of man brought into the world. May
this bright Star now vouchsafe to extinguish
that foul constellation whose battles have
slain the people with the wound of death.

O most pious Star of the Sea, preserve us from
pestilence; hear us, O Lady, for Thy Son honours
Thee by denying Thee nothing. Save us, O Jesus,
for whom Thy Virgin Mother supplicates Thee.

V: Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God.

R: That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray

O God of mercy, God of pity, God of benign clemency,
Thou Who hast had compassion on the affliction of Thy
people, and hast said to the angel striking them, “Stop thy
hand;” for the love of this glorious Star, whose breasts
Thou didst sweetly drink as antidote for our crimes,
grant the assistance of Thy grace, that we may be safely freed
from all pestilence, and from unprovided death; and mercifully
save us from the gulf of eternal perdition: through Thee,
Lord Jesus Christ, King of Glory, who livest and reignest,
world without end. Amen.(3)

References:

(1) 1 Peter 5:8

(2) Luke 21:36

(3) Obtained via ourladyofgoodsuccess.com (https://www.ourladyofgoodsuccess.com/blogs/news/prayer-in-times-of-pestilence-the-stella-coeli)

Image:

The Fall of the Damned c. 1620 by Peter Paul Rubens. Obtained via niceartgallery.com (https://www.niceartgallery.com/Peter-Paul-Rubens/The-Fall-of-the-Damned-c-1620.html?from=ads&target=pla-845654445537&key=&device=c&gclid=Cj0KCQjwpLfzBRCRARIsAHuj6qVQgnLZHIIXn8O-L0fkM5sbAfqg7T3gCabUJxOxL6cqI-PcTKvydOAaAvjSEALw_wcB)

Memories

At an inquisitive age of 7, I attended my cousin Ricky’s funeral, age 8.  Ricky and I herded calves, collected eggs from the hen house, chased piglets, rode tractors, fished, built forts in the barn.  We traveled the road to becoming best friends. 

            Dad told me; “Though Ricky died, you have lots of good memories to remember him.”

            I found no consolation in that.  Ricky was gone and all that remains is memories?  Is that as good as it gets?  I yearned to retain connections to Ricky.  Memories seemed an inferior option like a token one plays in a losing game.

            Since that time, I have been sensitive in my condolences in the sympathy cards I select; that they not reduce death to memories.  For many, many years, I operated out of that mindset until a Saturday morning mass in November.  A 94-year old monk shared wisdom and experience.  He structured his brief homily entirely upon the responsorial psalm recited between the readings. 

             

Remember the marvels the Lord has done!  The Lord remembers forever his covenant which he made binding for a thousand generations!  Psalms 105:5,8

The monk spoke of a friend.  A husband visited his wife daily at an adult residential care facility.  On one occasion, one of the staff asked the husband why he came back each day.  “She really doesn’t know you anymore?  She won’t remember you were here, either.”

            “Perhaps not,” the husband responded, “but I do.  I always will.” 

The monk went on to say, remembering is an “expression of intimacy with one who is never forgotten.”

            Memory is a gift!

            Life creates memories, intimate blessings.  Memory creates pathways into relationships.  Memory allows us to enter covenants.

            Remembering gives life!  This is what lent is about. Despite death, the act of remembering impacts the present and the future!  Advent and birth, lent and death graced with resurrection repeat in our living journey.  There are cycles within life.  But, life unabridged, in its wholeness is an everlasting journey where bodily death introduces a new beginning, but not a beginning from which we were born. 

            Our partaking in the Eucharist is an act of remembering Jesus’ gift of himself in the first Eucharistic meal.  It nurtures, cultivates the living God within us and the lives of those around us as we eat at the table of our Lord. 

            The Easter Vigil is all about fresh starts.  We repeat “I do” at baptisms, confirmations, and the renewal of Baptismal Promises; Do you believe in God, the Father, almighty Creator of heaven and earth?   “I do.”

            We proclaim “I do” at marriage in a covenant of love and commitment to our beloved spouses and families.  All are built on memories of what has been to become what will be … life everlasting.

            Our music, poems, prayers, stories pass on eras to build upon into the future.  They spontaneously generate images, emotions, recollections, visions.  They refresh life, even life seemingly invisible to us.

           

I recall a Canadian cartoon panel from “For Better or Worse.”

            A grandchild carrying a book approaches her grandfather seated solitary next to a window.  He suffers from aggressive Alzheimer’s. 

            “Would you like to hear a story, Grandpa?”

            Grandpa looks ahead despondent.

            “Ok, Grandpa.”  The child turns and begins to walk away.

            The grandfather does not speak.  A ‘thought’ bubble overhead reads, “Don’t go!  Don’t go!  I’m here!  I’m here!  Deep inside!”

            Though the child hears no words from her grandfather, she pauses, turns and climbs upon the vacant armrest to sit.  Next to her still stoic grandfather, she opens her book.

            “Once upon a time …,” she begins to read.

            A graphic thought bubble emerges from the despondent grandfather.  A rendering of the grandfather’s face buried deeply within breaks into a broad smile embracing the moment; one to be remembered. 

            As you reflect and remember during lent, what gives you life?  How do you capture them?  How do you build upon them?  What relationships, covenants do you enter?

Memory is a gift!

            Remembering gives life!

            Remembering is an act of gratitude!

What He asks us to accept

On the most basic level, for Christians in a self-improvement culture, for whom God's power always seems to be manifest when He does what we want or what our parents hope for, it's necessary to learn that God's power is often manifest in what He asks us to accept.  He is greater than our desires - greater than what we desire, and not constrained by our wants or our cultural values.  He has for us something better than what we could design for ourselves.

    - Eve Tushnet