Wasn't it Bishop Fulton Sheen who lamented what he called wasted suffering. Years ago I remember a letter from a lady who was in constant pain.  Searing pain. I wanted so much to reach out and help her. But I couldn't. I prayed for her, of course. I prayed that Jesus would grant her relief. At the end, I asked her to offer up her pain as "a gift of love," for her sins and the sins of loved ones. I received a scolding for my suggestions. A lady who read the letter said in effect, the woman is asking for relief from her pain and you are asking her to "offer it up." "That won't help her; she won't understand." The lady who made the comment didn't understand. I wanted more than anything that Jesus would heal her pain. But I wanted, too, that she not "waste" her suffering. Was that heartless? Was I being cruel? I hope not. All of us "stormed heaven" on behalf of the suffering one. I just wanted her to remember that her pain had enormous value - - if she gave it to Jesus as a "gift." And He in turn might will that gift toward her perfection. 

Remember the "good thief" (Lk 23:39-43)? He repented. He asked for mercy. He had probably committed every sin imaginable. Yet, there was no purgatory for him. His crucifixion was his purification. "I assure you," Jesus said, "this day you will be with me in paradise." 

It is important that we offer up to Our Lord all our suffering, even our little ones, our everyday aches and pains. I remember a friend who died of cancer. He suffered excruciating pain - - and he offered it up to Our Lord as a gift of love for his sins and the sins of his family. No purgatory for him. He went straight to paradise. I feel sure of that - - because he offered his cancer driven agony to Jesus as a Gift of Love.

I felt so honored to have met Jonathan (not his real name) and to have helped him through life's most challenging crisis - - his passage from this world to eternity. I suppose I’d have to say I did not know him well - - certainly not as well as his fellow workers. And obviously not as well as his family.  And yet it was not just a casual eeting. I visited him twice - - a total of perhaps thirty minutes. 

Yet it seemed so much longer. I looked deeply into his eyes and he into mine. When I whispered to him about being a “Child of God” and the
“Purpose” of it all, he knew exactly what I meant. He received Viaticum, “food for the journey,” with such reverence! And he knew that for his “flight across the sun” he had to put himself in the hands of Christ. And he did.

I have used the analogy of a baby in its mother’s womb. If the little one could
express itself, it might very well say, “I don’t want to leave this inner room; I’m warm, I’m fed, protected, I’m happy; I want to stay where I am.” 

But, of course, that’s not possible. It has to be born into this world, kicking and crying, in order to reach for its divine destiny, it had to leave its mother’s womb to enter “the womb of the world.” To develop to the utmost, its talents, its gifts, its graces, the baby had to be born. It had to become a pilgrim and begin its difficult and dangerous trek from the age of innocence, through the dark forest of the world to the mysterious moment of passage from the world we know, to the mystical realm of promise, of peace, of unity with Christ.

There is the old analogy of the acorn and the oak. The acorn is a seed-bearing pod. Unless the acorn is planted, unless it dies, it will never release its precious seed.  Always, it will remain just an acorn. It will never fulfill its natural destiny of becoming “oak-tree-ness,” the mighty, magnificent,
giant of the forest, the towering oak. 

So it is with us. This body of mine, of yours, Donna, and of Jonathan's is a “seed-pod.” Unless it dies, it will not release the “seed-soul” that is within each of us. Unless we take that step into God’s realm, the realm of the spirit, we will never know our immortal destiny - - oneness with God through Our Lord Jesus.

The short Gospel reading I used is from Matthew (7:7,8). 

(The Lord says to us) “Ask and you will receive. Seek and you will find. Knock and it will be opened to you. For the one who asks, receives, the one who seeks, finds, the one who knocks, enters.” 

Jesus has given us the Grace to ask certain basic and important questions. For example, “Who am I?” If I were to ask, “Who are you?” What would you answer? Of course, you could say I’m a father (or mother). I’m a sales person. A home-maker; a teacher; a machinist. You could identify yourself in any number of ways. But Jesus wants us to ponder a much more fundamental answer: “I am a child of God.”  First of all, “I am a child of God.”

There’s another question He wants us to think about. I remember a play written by Maxim Gorki, the Russian playwright. It was called “The Lower Depths” and took place in the cellar of an abandoned tenement in what
we would call “the inner city.” The homeless sought shelter there, especially in winter, because the city steam-pipes ran under the building. The people who gathered there were the lowest of the low, the dregs of society. They were the pariahs, the lost ones, the outcasts.One character was called The Baron. Toward the end of the play he was alone on stage except for his companion Satine. In a befuddled stupor, The Baron was muttering that he recalled his life only in terms of the clothes he wore. 

As a young man he says he wore the uniform of the Institute of the Sons of The Nobility. Later, he married; he wore a frock-coat and striped trousers. He had a job in the State Department; he remembered a dark, gray jacket and rust colored pants. But he stole money so they dressed him in convict’s garb. After prison, he put on the clothes he’s wearing now. “And it all happened as in a dream.” At the end he asks a profound question. It’s a question each of us should ask ourselves: “Wasn’t there some reason I was born? Wasn’t I born for some sort of purpose?” Some sort of purpose! The tragedy of The Baron is that he never
discovered his “purpose.” 

But we must. God has given us the grace to seek,
to discern the reason we were born. To know that there is more to life than getting up in the morning, going to work, eating, drinking; watching TV, going to bed . . . . until we wake up one morning and discover we are seventy years
old, “and it all happened as in a dream.” 

And we realize that our personal "hourglass" is almost empty; our “allotted time” is up and we have never discovered our “purpose.” If it was a tragedy for The Baron, it is a triple-tragedy for us. How do we discover our purpose? Through the Bible of course - - especially through the words of Christ in The New Testament, and through our Catholic Church (see the "Catechism of the Catholic Church); And we must listen to the words we pray at our central act of adoration. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

Do you remember the prayer at the Offertory? We have heard it hundreds of times: “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in The Divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity.” That’s our
purpose - - to share in Christ’s divinity!! And through Christ, to share oneness with The Trinity.  

Remember the prayer of Jesus to The Father, “I pray that they may be one in us . . . that they may be one as we are one - - I living in them, you living in me - - that their unity may be complete” (Jn. 17:21ff). And how can we forget our words in the third Eucharistic Prayer . . “when Christ
will raise our mortal bodies and make them like his own in Glory. . . . There we hope to share in your glory when every tear will be wiped away.” 

“On that day we shall see you, our God as you are.  We shall become like you and praise you for ever through Christ our Lord from whom all good things come.” We are “children of God” and our “purpose,” the reason we were born, is “to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”

Do you remember a reading from the book of “Ecclesiastes” in the Old Testament? The author is concerned with the value and purpose of human life. In the last chapter he uses symbols; metaphors for life and the moment of death. One symbol for “Life” is represented by the “Golden Bowl” suspended by “The Silver Cord.” 

The moment of death is when “the Silver Cord is snapped and the Golden Bowl is broken and the pitcher (another symbol of life) is shattered at the spring, and the broken pulley falls into the well, and the dust (our bodies) returns to the earth from whence it came and the breath of life returns to God who gave it.”

That moment came for Jonathan on May 31st. He left your arms, Donna, to enter a new and totally different world - - a realm of the spirit. It takes no trick of the imagination at all for me to see your beloved - - - young, vibrant, in perfect health, bounding through the glades of Heaven, with Angels and Saints in his wake, toward that glittering, golden door. Pounding on it. And finding himself in the arms of Christ . . in a celestial bear hug - - - a hug of welcome, of peace, of joy, of love.

St. Paul said, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered the heart of man what things God has prepared for those who love Him.”

Jonathan loved Him; so must we.

Sincerely, yours in Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,

Fr. Robert McQueeney
Spiritual Director