October 26, 2021 - Tuesday, 30th Week in Ordinary Time
Rom 8:18-25
Ps 126
Lk 13:18-21
Brothers and sisters:
I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us. For creation awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God.
We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that sees for itself is not hope. For who hopes for what one sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance.
In today's passage from the letter to the Romans, San Paul offers us a precise picture of the world redeemed by Christ and lays before us man’s present condition and that of all creation with extreme realism, but also with hope.
Though saved, though made a child of God, man lives in pain, awaiting a fulfillment that has not yet been achieved. We have received the Holy Spirit, but only as a deposit; we have the first fruits of the Spirit, not the fullness, and our body has not yet been totally redeemed. All creation participates in this suffering and expectation as well, having been brought into the slavery of corruption through man’s sin.
But, Saint Paul says, man and creation, in this state of transience and pain, are not experiencing death, but gestation for childbirth. It naturally involves anxiety and suffering, but it is directed towards true life: man and creation are reaching for the glory that they do not yet see, but which they hope to see. The condition for seeing what is not yet seen consists in waiting for it with hope and perseverance.
And the responsorial psalm immediately offers an example of rebirth, even if it is not yet complete happiness, because we are still on earth. The deportees to Babylon, even if in small numbers and in the midst of serious difficulties, have returned free to their land! “We are glad” says the psalmist. The Lord knows that his creatures cannot live without joy, even if it might be fragile and temporary; then, in his tenderness, he softens the trials suffered in exile. He puts us to the test: he tests our fidelity, he wants us to bear witness to him with hope and perseverance, but he does not make us endure long periods of acute suffering without any great joy(s) or small daily joys that allow us to advance more happily in the midst of tribulations:
When the Lord brought back the captives of Zion, we were like men dreaming. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with rejoicing. Then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad indeed. Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the torrents in the southern desert. Those that sow in tears shall reap rejoicing. Although they go forth weeping, carrying the seed to be sown, They shall come back rejoicing, carrying their sheaves.
Today’s gospel is especially in tune with the epistle and the psalm: it gives us much confidence and hope.
Jesus said, “What is the Kingdom of God like? To what can I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that a man took and planted in the garden. When it was fully grown, it became a large bush and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches.”
Again he said, “To what shall I compare the Kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch of dough was leavened.”
The image of God’s kingdom that St. Luke offers us is simple and familiar, so as not to frighten anyone. The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed... It is like yeast ... The mustard seed and the yeast are small realities, within our reach, yet they have an extraordinary strength within them, which certainly does not come from us. We have the ability and the responsibility to use these elements well, to make them serve the purpose for which God created them: to sow the grain in our garden or to mix the yeast in our flour for the growth of the kingdom of God. It is not us, but it is God’s grace that makes it grow, without us knowing how. “Mission’s mysterious fruitfulness does not consist in our intentions, in our methods, in our impulses and in our initiatives, but rests precisely in this vertigo: the vertigo we perceive when we hear Jesus’ words: 'without Me you can do nothing’.”. (Pope Francis, Without Jesus We Can Do Nothing. Being Missionary in the World Today, Translated by Barry Hudock, Twenty-Third Publications, 2020)
The kingdom of God grows in us, provided, however, that we become aware of our poverty and inability to save ourselves on our own. Christ, with his life, death, resurrection already saved us: we must only believe it, hope for it and offer our little collaboration to this salvation, which we do not yet see in its entirety. We adore the initiative and the gift we receive and confidently do whatever we can do on our part, even if it is little. And let us try to be grateful for the mercy that we have received from God.
Our cooperation in grace is always a missionary work - indeed the only truly missionary work, because the witness of life is the most convincing form of apostolate. This witness happens in a particular way if the testimony is linked to great suffering, lived with love, and even with joy and a smile on the lips.
This is what happened to a Lebanese saint, Rafqa Choboq Ar-Rayes, who died in 1914 and was canonized by Pope John Paul II on June 10, 2001:
By canonizing Blessed Rafqa Choboq Ar-Rayès, the Church sheds a very particular light on the mystery of love given and received for the glory of God and the salvation of the world. This nun of the Lebanese Maronite Order desired to love and to give her life for her people. In the sufferings which never left her for 29 years of her life, St Rafqa always showed a passionate and generous love for the salvation of her brothers, drawing from her union with Christ, who died on the cross, the force to accept voluntarily and to love suffering, the authentic way of holiness.
May St Rafqa watch over those who know suffering, particularly over the peoples of the Middle East who must face a destructive and sterile spiral of violence. Through her intercession, let us ask the Lord to open hearts to the patient quest for new ways to peace and so hasten the advent of reconciliation and harmony.
(Canonization of 5 Blessed, Homily of John Paul II, Feast of the Blessed Trinity, 10 June 2001)
Given the long period of blindness and total paralysis, there are no writings left by the humble nun, compatriot and contemporary of the famous miracle worker St. Charbel Makhluf.
She first entered a Congregation of apostolic life and was sent as a teacher to the mountain villages, only to later become a contemplative nun in the same Order of St. Charbel.
Santa Rafqa lived her childhood and adolescence during the civil war and divisions that impoverished Lebanese families from 1840 to 1845, but she suffered above all from the extermination of the Maronites in 1860, during which children were snatched from their mothers’ arms and killed. The Saint was able to save a child, hiding him in her dress, thus defending him from the cruelty and barbarism of those who pursued him. She was always so disturbed by these massacres that she was moved every time someone spoke to her about them.
In 1871 she passed from the Congregation of the Mariamites of Bikfaya, which had been dissolved, to the Lebanese Order of Maronite Nuns, wanting to join more in Christ’s sufferings, asking him to participate in his passion. And so it happened. She lost an eye during an operation and then went permanently blind. Her whole body went paralyzed except for her hands, which allowed her to knit throughout her life. She lived to the age of 82 with a smile on her face, in perfect joy.
After her death, on her grave, the same phenomenon occurred that had been seen on that of Saint Charbel: a bright light shone and then disappeared. Some people from the villages near the monastery of St. Joseph of Jrapta saw this miracle and gave testimony of it.
Saint Rafqa’s message for every Christian who is in pain encourages them to be patient and joyfully accept suffering for love of Christ and neighbor, according to the saying that he who seeks Jesus Christ without the cross will find the cross without Jesus Christ; it will be burdensome and even impossible for him to carry. Rafqa teaches us that, with Christ and through him, the Cross of life’s many sufferings become one’s prayer and joy. These are the most effective form of evangelization.