My heart is aching. My spirit is troubled, and my prayer is heavy. News of the war in Ukraine, Putin's relentless barrage that seems very unlikely to stop at the boarders of Ukraine draws my heart out in solidarity with especially with women and children fleeing, or staying. Even amidst so many accounts of beauty, of love, like so many Poles opening their homes and welcoming refugees, reports of divine interventions, and demonstrations of faithfulness of believers turning to God in earnest -- even amidst all these, there are the other stories, the other cries:war, hatred, lies, destruction, death, accusations, greed, arguments, blame, complaint, pride, fear, evil, disregard.
And then locally there was another priest sentanced in a horrible case of sexual battery and spiritual abuse. It stikes close to home, because it is close to home, literally. This is a priest I was acquainted with and at one time thought well of. I read the victim's horrific statement. The psychological, physical, and sexual abuse was bad enough, but the abuse of spiritual authority was perhaps the most devastating. It left me gazing into my own abyss.
So it is from this place that I am trying to write and pray today, to find a coherent thread.
To be honest, when I read of the sentencing of that priest (five years' probation), I was left with a feeling of responsibility to fix this horror. There was such a failure of human formation, such a mistaking of what is human, what is spiritual. Such an ignorant and evil response to human brokenness. My husband had to remind me that brokenness is the human condition. And I recognized in myself the "trigger" if you will of seeing the failings of those I don't want to have failings, and scrambling -- for the sake of my own sanity -- to figure out how to fix their failings. It's "I need you to not have failings so that I can be at peace." And that simply can never be. It is a perverted longing for "holiness."
Jesus on the cross sure looked like a failure, a scandal. He sure as hell did not look like someone one desires union with. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. (Is. 53:3). We know that God is love. Love was despised. Love was rejected. Love was acquainted with grief. Why? Because of how deeply those whom He had created turned away from what they were made for. "Yet it was our pain He bore, our sufferings He endured. He was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquity. He bore the punishment that made us whole, by his wounds we were healed."
Where is God in all of the suffering? Somehow, He is the one who is suffering; that's how close.
We have a grave responsibility to the vulnerable. Because the pain in this world is so exhausting, and we humans are so limited, this must include in a primary way our own vulnerable hearts and souls. We must not forge new armor of hard hearts; we must turn these hearts to the Lord in His own agony. Look closely and weep with Him, and He with us. Then our first duty is to weep with those other people who weep, stepping into the Lord's own love and strength and not hesitating to hear and listen, and feel, all the while handing it all back to the Lord.
At the end of the day, being the Lord's good servant means that He is in charge. It is a relief not to be God. To make our home in God means that we have an eternal refuge, a place of rest to which all are invited. We become the message: there is a place of rest and healing for you. Do not grow deaf to your own heart, and do not fear, but turn with trust to Love.
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