Follow Jesus with Perseverance

Homily, Sunday, November 18, 2007; 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time, C
Ss. Cyril and Methodius Parish, Sterling Heights

            Often I have found this verse mysterious where Jesus promises, “Not one hair of your head shall perish” (Lk 21:18). I find it mysterious because he makes this promise after a whole litany of great sufferings which will come upon those who follow Him. These sufferings are great and terrible, and he mentions these: Stone shall not be left upon a stone (v. 6). Many will be led astray (v. 8). There will be wars among nations (v. 10). We will suffer from earthquakes, pestilences, famines, terrors from heaven (v. 11). He says that they will lay hands on you, persecute you (v. 12). Some will fall by the sword, Jerusalem will be laid waste, perhaps meaning the city, perhaps meaning the Church (v. 24). We will see signs in the sun, moon and stars (v. 25). And men will see such wonders that they wither away for fear (v. 27). And with all this frightening foretelling, Jesus then says, “Not one hair of your head shall perish.”

            How can we be demolished, devastated in war, shaken in quakes, and yet not one hair of our head shall perish? How can we endure famines, pestilence and the sword, without one hair of our head perishing? How can we be persecuted and captured, yet not on hair of our head perish? Is it possible to die and not die at the same time? Is it possible to be harmed and not harmed at the same time? No, it is not possible. So how are we to understand this?

            They key to the riddle, I think, is in verse 19: “In your patience, you shall possess your souls.” It seems as if Jesus, when saying these things, is not talking to the Church militant, us here below in spiritual battle, but he is talking to us almost as he sees us already triumphant in heaven. Our sufferings on earth are a sort of humus from which life shall spring, all we have to do is persevere.

            You may have seen a swamp or bog, stinky and cold; but then, in the middle of it, beautiful white flowers spring up. So it is that the glorious life of heaven springs up from the miseries here on earth, and these glories will be so magnificent, we will count as nothing all the sufferings we endure in this life. The dead mulch of leaves and rot on the forest floor makes for rich and healthy trees which climb up to the heavens; and so the blood of martyrs makes the Church rise up to reach unto the Trinity.

            And so there is this paradox, that first comes death, but from death comes life, for those who live in God’s grace. Jesus Christ did not just rise from the dead; he died first on the Cross. St. Augustine did not just become a saint, he triumphed over the dreadful, grave and countless sins of his earlier years. St. Ambrose spent much of his life without habitual grace because he was not baptized, and then he was baptized and ordained, and became a great bishop and saint and Father of the Church. In more recent times, it was only through trial and suffering by which St. John of the Cross climbed such heights of holiness. Mother Teresa herself had to be tried in the crucible of purifying suffering before attaining heaven. I even think of the October 28th beatifications, just passed, where Pope Benedict raised to the title of “blessed” some 498 souls, the largest number ever at once to receive this glorious dignity. Do you know who they were and how they attained this status? Did they live comfortable lives, free from persecution and difficulty? No, they too persevered through the crucible. They were martyrs, all of them, lay, clergy and religious. They shed their blood for Jesus Christ, they died in the Spanish civil war at the hands of the enemies of God and the Church.

            Jesus teaches, “He that shall persevere unto the end, he shall be saved” (Mt 24:13). So do not flee from the cross, but be “patient,” as Jesus recommends us today. Suffer with love, love for God, and love for neighbor. I think that the only regret we’ll have in heaven – which I say just to make a point, for we will be perfectly happy with no regrets in heaven – is that we didn’t suffer more, that we didn’t embrace our crosses better.

            The Catholic Church stands as a city with a huge and thick wall, impervious to the enemy. Stay within her, “to remain in the safety of the faith.” Turn to the means the Church has, especially frequent communion and frequent sacramental confession. But by all means persevere. Let this be, today, our prayer: Jesus, in the midst of my many crosses, I promise to follow you. And if I fall, by your grace, I’ll repent and confess and continue to follow you. I promise not to nourish myself from the poison of the world and its sinful ways, but from Your precious body and blood which you give me in the Eucharist. I will follow you wherever you go, no matter how hard it is, not matter how high or how low, no matter what humiliation and pain, no matter how long I have to carry my many crosses. For you have promised me that not one hair on my head will be lost, and I trust, Jesus, that you are faithful to your word. Amen.