Faith-Prayer-Distress-Jesus Christ

HOMILY LENT WEEK 05 05 – Year II

Faith and Prayer – Lifelines in Times of Distress

(Jer 20:7, 10-13; Ps 18; Jn 10:31-42)

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“In my distress I called to the Lord, and he heard me,” is the psalm response for today.

That response and the readings today are quite appropriate for this time of global distress from the Covoid-19 pandemic, inviting us to deepen our faith in God and in Jesus, and to express that faith through heart-felt prayer.

All the readings speak about distress or struggle. In the gospel, Jesus is confronted with the hard-hearted resistance and unbelief of the Jews who want to stone him. Jeremiah, in the first reading, is in distress because the people of his time, even his close friends, did not respect him and persecuted him. The psalmist, also in distress, feels that death is closing in on him.

I think the whole world can identify with these words, as this unprecedented pandemic lays a very heavy burden on everyone trying to cope with the stress of layoffs, caring for children, keeping businesses afloat, avoiding infection, and feeling the dreaded fear of this invisible enemy.

All three readings are an invitation to meet this distress with the life-line of faith in a God who is with us in this time of distress. Jeremiah trusts in the Lord of hosts, while the psalmist trusts in God as his rock and deliverer. In the Gospel, Jesus invites the Jews to believe in him as God’s own Son.

We can emulate all these readings, and in this time of stress, deepen our own faith in God, however distant God may seem at times. Perhaps never before have we felt such a lack of control over our lives, a time when we realize that we really are not in charge, and that trusting in God and the assurance that can give us is the best way handle this stress.

Richard Rohr, speaking from the perspective of the Men’s Movement he founded, and the power of initiation rites, sees this pandemic as reality initiating the whole world into the reality of the basic truths of initiation, such as: Life is hard, We are not in control, and We are going to die. He writes: “The initiation instinct realized that facing one’s death was the ultimate encounter with the sacred. Walking through one’s fear of the last thing becomes an encounter with the first thing. A person is then free to live, often for the first time outside of their head or their fear. Death encounters seem to be the primary way to build or rebuild a real life. Then life itself, in all its depth and beauty, becomes the unquestionable gift.”   Another mentor of mine, Henri Nouwen, adds this helpful reflection: “The mystery of God’s love is not that our pain is taken away, but that God first wants to share that pain with us. Out of this divine solidarity comes new life. Jesus’ being moved in the center of his being by human pain is indeed a movement toward new life. God is our God, the God of the living. In the divine womb of God, life is always born again…. The truly good news is that God is not a distant God, a God to be feared and avoided, a God of revenge, but a God who is moved by our pains and participates in the fullness of the human struggle.”

 

With this faith perspective in mind, all the readings are also an invitation for us to express our faith in God through prayer. In the gospel, Jesus drops a hint of how he handled the stress he was under, with the words, “the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” He also went across the Jordan and remained there. What that says to me, and we know from other numerous passages in the bible, is that Jesus would spend hours, even all night sometimes, in prayerful solitude, communing with the Father, and basking in the Father’s love for him.

We are invited to do the same, especially in stressful times such as the one we are in now. One of the best things we can do, especially now with time on our hands, is to spend more time in contemplative prayer, just being with the Father, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, resting in their love, trusting that if we are in their presence, they are also humbly in our presence, and that we are never alone.

The prayer of Jeremiah and the psalmist is different – they are actively crying out to God, placing their distress in the Lord’s hand, and asking for help to cope with their painful situations. I like to call this the prayer of the Anawim, a Hebrew word describing the poor, humble people who know they need God, who have no pretensions and wear no masks.

That is the prayer St. Peter learned when he started to sink while walking on the water. His prayer changed for a proud head prayer, “Lord, make me come to you on the water,” to a humble prayer coming from his guts, “Lord, save me!” Suddenly Jesus was there and picked him up by the shoulder with the question, “Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

What do you think Peter did next? Let go and tell Jesus he could manage on his own again, or hang on for dear life and walk together walk back with Jesus to the boat? I am certain he did the latter, and so must we. Rather than try to handle our problems and trials on our own, which for the most part are too big for us, we can turn to the Lord at the beginning of each day, and humbly and honestly admit our need for him and ask him for his powerful help, just for that day, one day at a time? That can make all the difference in our day because now we are walking with the Lord, not ahead of him, and relying on his strength, rather than our own.

The 12-Step program of Alcoholics Anonymous can help us here. Step 2 asks us to believe a Higher Power can restore us to sanity; Step 3 invites us to surrender our lives and our wills to God as we understand God, and Step 11 invites us to improve our conscious contact with God through prayer and meditation, seeking only the knowledge of God’s will for us and the power to carry it out.

The Eucharist is a deep act of faith, and our greatest prayer. May the Word of God we ponder today deepen our faith in Jesus as our Higher Power, add sincerity to our petitions as Anawim, and lead us into deeper contemplative prayer. And may the words of Julien of Norwich assure us: “All will be well, and all will be well, and in the end, all manner of being will be well.”