Kempis sees suffering as the way we conform ourselves most closely to Jesus (2,12).  To grow to love trials and tribulations is what he calls us to do for love of Christ.  A heavenly reward awaits, certainly, but its benefits accrue here as well in our interior disposition and exterior example.

As we continue to work through the Acts of the Apostles (11:19-26) in these heady days of the Easter Season, we read about the evangelization efforts of the first Christian disciples.  Having been “scattered by the persecution,” their efforts extended further more quickly than they had anticipated.  Yet previous difficulties and the possibility of future tribulations does not deter them in proclaiming the Good News.  Their efforts, guided by “[t]he hand of the Lord,” resulted in “a large number of people [being] added to the Lord.”

What a joy it must have been for these early disciples to find through their persecution the openness of so many Jews and Gentiles to this new Gospel that they were charged with proclaiming.  They felt and witnessed “the great fruit which … derives by bearing his cross.”  Is there a higher consolation than knowing that by word and example that we are bringing others to Christ as is our calling (see Mt 28:18-20)?

Many times in these posts, the promise of suffering, and thus the necessity of suffering, has been emphasized.  Why let these difficulties, that will undoubtedly come our way, go to waste?  Rather, let us unite our sufferings with Christ’s for the sake of His kingdom.

St Peter Preaching (1426-1427) by Masolino da Panicale

This whole chapter in Kempis (2,12) has to do with the inevitability of suffering and the way we are to be disposed to it whenever we encounter it.  The good news is that if we persevere as Christ did we have the promise of life eternal with Him.

In today’s Gospel (Jn 10:11-18), Jesus’ “Good Shepherd” discourse continues.  What makes for a good shepherd?  That he lay down his life for his sheep.  So Jesus is not speaking metaphorically here (although I would argue there is an aspect of this in the constant difficulties He encountered in His public ministry and in general in aligning His will entirely with the Father’s).  Jesus knew that His mission would end in death, freely accepted.  He also knew that death would not have the last word.

Because of the Paschal Mystery — the Passion, death, and Resurrection of Jesus — we too have confidence that the end of our earthly lives marks the beginning of eternal life.  Jesus took up His own life and so we are secure in the knowledge that He will take up ours as well.  But, as worthy imitators of Christ we don’t forget that He said the following:

Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and enter into his glory? (Lk 24:26)

As athletic coaches are wont to shout: “No pain, no gain!”  We know that we will be companions with Christ in death — it is our inevitable fate.  We must also be His companions in suffering to enter into His glory.

Lord grant us the grace to suffer well for love of you and your Church, the Body of Christ.

Woman on Her Deathbed (1883) by Vincent van Gogh

The final chapter in Book Two of Thomas à Kempis’s The Imitation of Christ is entitled “Of the Royal Road of the Holy Cross” (2,12).  In a nutshell, Kempis tells us in this long chapter that suffering is the lot of human life; how we handle it informs us very much of our eternal destiny.  Today’s quote highlights this truth splendidly.

Today’s second reading (1 Pt 2:20b-25) has Peter appealing to servants/slaves to bear their hardships uncomplainingly, as Jesus did.  He concludes with a paragraph clearly referring to Isaiah 53‘s Suffering Servant.  Their suffering was anticipated and endured by Christ for their sake — He understands better than anyone the meaning and effects of  tribulations.

Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself,^* take up his cross, and follow me.” (Mt 16:24)

The Lord Himself was clear as to what was involved and expected of His followers (we are all called to be servants/slaves of Christ).  Peter undoubtedly harkened back to the words of his Master in writing his epistle.  The head of the apostles had already suffered much for the Faith, and the worst (or best, from a salvation perspective) was yet to come.

Suffering of any kind is not easy, but it will come.  We need to constantly implore the Lord to bear it well and unite it to Him for the salvation of souls (including our own).  It is not without purpose that Paul said:

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church… (Col 1:24)

What a privilege that Jesus invites us to participate in His work.  Lord, give us the grace and the strength to recognize this and embrace it for love of you and your people.

(Read Pope St. John Paul II’s beautiful apostolic letter on redemptive suffering here.)

Kempis is, of course, right on the money, when he says that being close to the Lord is much easier and more appealing when one is satisfied in body and spirit and when he is contemplating heaven (2,11).  Yet, bring on desolation, suffering, and difficulties, and Jesus is often forgotten (at best — “I will take care of this myself”) and tossed aside (at worst — “where is God in all this mess?”).

Today, the Bread of Life discourse is wrapped up (Jn 6:60-69).  Jesus, challenging His followers to set their sights higher, that is, on spiritual matters, finds that many are unable to do so, thus they leave Him to go back to their previous lives.  Peter, representing the twelve apostles, remains steadfast in His trust of his Master, most certainly not understanding much, if anything, He just conveyed, but demonstrating faith in the man to whom he had grown very close and whom he had come to know so well.

Adversity comes part and parcel with authentic Christian living.  In a culture that continues to grow increasingly hostile toward the Truth (see Jn 14:6, Jn 18:38, and Rom 1:18-32), we must not find following Jesus too “hard.”  Rather, we are to stand firm in our resolve to embrace the Lord’s will for us, which includes showing our belief in Him by obeying His commands.  No compromise is permitted in this regard.  When we are challenged within and without to abandon Jesus, to return to a life without Jesus, we must eschew such a temptation.  Like Peter, we must declare:

Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
We have come to believe
and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.

Still from Jesus of Nazareth

Kempis’s chapter on loving the cross (2,11) asks the probing question above after expressing much consternation, using many different scenarios, regarding those who find closeness to the Lord much easier to achieve or maintain when things are going well personally or in receiving favors from God.  Finding someone “who is willing to serve God gratuitously,” simply for the love of God for who He is, is much more challenging.

The first reading (Acts 9:1-20) continues our walk through the history of the very early Church.  Today we get to hear the beginning of the fantastic story of Saul’s conversion — from zealous persecutor of the Christian “Way” to adamant proclaimer of the Gospel — through the direct intervention of Jesus Himself.  Ananias, most certainly an exemplary disciple of Christ’s since he was entrusted with the initial care of Saul/Paul, answers without hesitation, “Here I am, Lord” when called.  After an understandable initial concern about the man he is asked to retrieve, due to Saul’s well-earned reputation, Ananias went without further adieu to Saul, blessing him with the invocation “Saul, my brother.”  If the Lord says that this persecutor is His “chosen instrument,” the faithful disciple has no hesitation in embracing him as a fellow brother in Christ.

Ananias is a shining example of what it means to serve God gratuitously.  The last in a long line of prominent biblical figures to answer the Lord’s call with “Here I am!” (see here), he declares himself a man of action, ready, willing, and able, at a moment’s notice, to do Jesus Christ’s bidding without any expectation of personal gain.

This early apostle (see his words above: “the Lord has sent me,” “sent” being the meaning of the word “apostle”), is worthy of imitation.  We, too, are called and sent by the Lord to do His work in the world.  We are the Body of Christ, called to be His hands, His feet, His eyes, His ears, His mouth, not seeking any reward but the knowledge that we are doing what we ought.  I have taken as my motto, evident in the name of the blog, and alluded to elsewhere by Kempis in this chapter, these words from Luke:

When you have done all you have been commanded, say, “We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.” (17:10)

Let us all strive to always maintain this disposition regardless of circumstances.

Ananias restoring the sight of Saint Paul (1631) by Pietro De Cortana

Today we begin the penultimate chapter (“Of the Few Who Love the Cross of Jesus”) of Book II of Thomas à Kempis’s The Imitation of Christ.  Here he bemoans the fact that Jesus finds many followers when things are going well and consolations are abundant, but few who persevere during tribulations, abstinence, suffering, or adversity.  Self-love and self-interest must be abandoned entirely in favor of God.  To “love Jesus for Jesus’s sake,” per the headline, must be our disposition in all things.

As we did yesterday, we again look at Psalm 66 (8-9, 16-17, 20).  This wonderful song of praise and thanksgiving is in response to God’s saving hand in the life of His people Israel.

Our challenge is to bear this attitude regardless of circumstances or consolations (human or divine).  We must see the Lord’s will (ordained or permissive) in all things, be accepting of it, and be thankful for it.  When using Catholic lenses it is possible to perceive this even in the most trying circumstances.  Consider the most difficult or awful experience in your life and then try to discern the benefits that flowed from it.  If you cannot, maybe now is the time to think about how you might turn that negative into a positive.  There is an internet full of stories of folks who turned the most horrifying personal events into an opportunity for healing, ministry, self-discovery, and God-discovery.

God does not refuse prayer or his kindness, as the Psalmist chants.  We are called to do the same for others, spreading the Good News, praising the Lord all the way.

Elsewhere in this chapter (2,10), Kempis says: “Render to God the things that are God’s … ascribe to yourself only sin.”  That’s exactly right.  Always point toward heaven.  Move someone in the way of truth?  Don’t seek the compliment, but gratefully accept it when it comes and then attribute any good to the Lord.  If the Divine Author has used us as His little pencil we don’t deny the gift we just acknowledge its provenance.  In this we imitate the saints in their humility and gratitude.  And if we are tempted to blame God for our shortcomings … well, see Jas 1:13.

Psalm 66 is a joyful song (1-3a, 4-5, 6-7a).  One can just imagine the sacred author penning this with tremendous vigor after a long trial in which the Lord saw His people through.  It would be unsurprising if he loudly proclaimed it from his rooftop upon completion.  “How tremendous are your deeds!,” indeed.

How we endure and then emerge from of crises, global or personal, says much about our attitude and disposition toward Divine Providence.  God ordains some things but permits all things.  Do we see the Lord in the midst of trial and tribulation?  Do we give Him the glory, regardless?  Do we see the good that comes from these evils and do we contribute to the good?  Do we pray for the grace to not only persevere but to make a positive difference through difficulties?  My all-time favorite quote from a great nun sums it up:

“We are all called to be great saints, don’t miss the opportunity.” — Mother Angelica

Kempis here (2,10) is only telling us what Our Lord Jesus Christ made known emphatically to His disciples: we will suffer in this life (see Mk 10:29-30), this valley of tears (see Ps 84:7); we will be asked to take up our own crosses if we wish to follow the Christian path (see Mt 16:24).  Why?  Jesus said:

Remember the word I spoke to you, “No slave is greater than his master.” If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. (Jn 15:20)

In yesterday’s first reading (Acts 7:51-8a) we found out the deacon Stephen’s fate for proclaiming the truth.  After calling out “the people, the elders, and the scribes” for their hardness in heart not only in not embracing Christ’s message but for their entire history of persecuting God’s messengers, we find these listeners “infuriated.”  Unable to withstand the veracity of the words of this man of God and their indictment of them, they rush upon him, throw him out of the city, and begin to stone him.  Stephen, undoubtedly hoping for conversions but likely expecting stubbornness, imitates his Master on the cross: he asks for forgiveness on his murderers’ behalf and offers up his soul to Jesus at the moment of death.

We marvel at the courage of this first Christian martyrs and pray that we would imitate his resolve and courage while hoping it never comes to that for us.  God willing, we will not have to suffer this specific fate.  But what of all the pin pricks of annoyances and troubles of day to day life?  How do we handle those?  How about the pebbles, stones, and even boulders that come at us unfairly, whether or not specifically about faith matters?  What is our reaction to these incoming?  As much as we try to avoid difficulties (not that we always should — sometimes our Faith and our responsibilities require otherwise_ we know that we will be assailed by them.  Do we meet them with patience and forbearance as Jesus, Stephen, and so many Catholic martyrs, who suffered much worse, have?  Can we do this even without human or even divine consolation?  Sirach and Peter offer wisdom here:

Until the right time, the patient remain calm, then cheerfulness comes back to them. (Sir 1:23)

Accept whatever happens to you; in periods of humiliation be patient. (Sir 2:4)

[I]f you are patient when you suffer for doing what is good, this is a grace before God. (1 Pt 2:20)

The Stoning of Saint Stephen (1625) by Rembrandt van Rijn

We now consider Chapter X of Book II of Thomas à Kempis’s The Imitation of Christ.  It is entitled: “Of Gratitude to God for His Grace.”  It continues the theme of last chapter in that we are to not crave consolations but rather to be grateful to God for all things and to look to grow in humility.  In the quote on which we are focusing, the author gives the antidote for any possibility of vainglory (excessive or ostentatious pride especially in one’s achievements — Merriam-Webster) by focusing on the truth of God and the heavenly glory that awaits those who are faithful to it.

The extraordinarily long Psalm 119 (119:23-24, 26-27, 29-30) focuses entirely on the importance of obedience to God’s commands.  The psalmist, recognizing that the Lord’s word is truth expresses his desire to know and follow the laws and statutes set down in Scripture.  As he says above, he keeps God’s ordinances always before him, ensuring that he stays on the right path.

Both Kempis and the psalmist focus on humility whether explicitly (in Kempis’s case) or implicitly (in the psalmist’s case).  Humility acknowledges the truth: God is God and we are not.  The Lord knows what is best for us.  What reason do we have to puff up ourselves when we owe everything to our Creator?  The truth itself is a gift — we don’t need to work it out on our own.  Some folks find this restrictive but it is anything but confining.  Rather, it is freeing.

Jesus says:

If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. (Jn 8:31-32)

Paul says:

For freedom Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery. (Gal 5:1)

The truth sets us free; it is sin that enslaves us.  We are to stand firm in it despite the world that relativizes it at best (see Jn 18:38) and militates against it at worst (see Jn 8:44-45).  Thank the Lord that He established a Church in which the truth is safeguarded until the end of time providing us the sure path to heaven we are to follow.

It seems fitting to finish Kempis’s chapter on consolations (2,9) with an appeal to grace (note yesterday’s post’s final line and see tomorrow how this anticipates the next chapter).  In God’s mercy, He provides the gift of grace for those who will accept it.  He knows we cannot manage ourselves; it is we who must recognize that this is the case.

Psalm 16, today’s Responsorial Psalm (Ps 16:1-2, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11), clearly shows the author as a man dedicated to the Lord, close to Him in spirit.  He has recourse to Him, blesses Him, thanks Him, exalts Him.  He is confident that taking refuge in God guarantees His safety, so he begins this song imploring His protection.

We are to take refuge in God’s mercy and grace.  If we want to stay safe in our relationship with the Almighty, we are to reject sin, repent, and strive to do the Lord’s will at all times.  God has an ocean of mercy available for the sincere and penitent heart, with that flood more than sufficient to wash away any sin through the merits of His Son’s Paschal Mystery.  Then He is eager to give us the grace necessary to help up to remain steadfast in goodness and upright in our behavior.  Like the Psalmist, and inspired by Kempis, may we often have recourse to the mercy and grace of God, particularly in the Sacraments of Reconciliation and Holy Communion.

David Playing the Harp (1670) by Jan de Bray