This vale of tears...

I filched a book from Michael’s stack on his side of the bed. We have a gentlemen’s agreement not to read a book from the other’s stack without permission... boundary issues. I read so fast that the sight of me ripping through another one of his books, pages flipping at the speed of light, is irritating. It was a long winter’s night and I was caught short so I sneaked a book, The Wisdom Jesus by Cynthia Bourgeault, and began reading it. Russell and Jeanine had given it to Michael as a birthday present. It is one of their favorites and now one of mine. Some books have the gift of reading and re-reading. This book will be revealing itself to me for some time yet to come.
“...where suffering exists and is consciously accepted, there divine love shines forth brightly...I have often suspected the most profound product of this world is tears. I don’t mean that to be morbid. Rather, I mean that tears express that vulnerability in which we can endure having our heart broken and go right on loving. In the tears flows a sweetness not of our own making, which has been known in our tradition as the Divine Mercy. Our jagged and hard edged earth plane is the realm in which this mercy is the most deeply, excruciatingly, and beautifully released. That’s our business down here. That’s what we’re here for.” In this hard edged bitter cold winter where this last grief has called forth memories of other griefs for other loved ones, these words put shape to a soul shaping process that has been a part of my life since my youth.
The old timers knew about suffering. Life was difficult. Food and shelter were often hard to come by. Children died young. Women died in childbirth. Life was limited in length and often opportunity. Suffering was a part of daily life. They sang of “some glad morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away... some brighter day, the sun will shine upon the troubled way... when you are lonely and weary in heart, Jesus will never forsake you...in this sad world with sin and sorrow rife, keep praying all the time...” The recognition of suffering was given a corporate voice and their hope came in the assurance of heaven.
In our time, we have insulated ourselves from the hard edges. Our expectations are for “happiness”, a big screen t.v., always healthy children and a fulfilling marriage. We want our religion upbeat and inspirational, our retirement accounts generously endowed, and children who are gifted and talented. Superstardom has become our measuring stick for success. The prosperity gospel is alive and well. Suffering is not a desirable part of our learning curve for life.
Unlike the old timers, I cannot live with suffering as an unending part of life in this vale of tears that will only end with my ascent into heaven, assuming I am saved and one of the glorious elect. Nor can I live as if suffering has no place in my life, cushioned by the cotton candy that surrounds me as a middle class American at this time in history. Beginning with the death of my first pet at the age of eight, I have tasted the tears of grief and known that life had limits beyond my control. A husband killed in war, a sister who committed suicide, a beloved grandchild who carries the diagnosis of autism, watching a friend live and die with ALS, my father’s two year struggle with myelofibrosis and death, Michael’s parents descent into dementia and death... this is just part of my struggle with suffering. And each of us carries our own pack of life altering circumstances that lead us into the valley of the shadow.
The “conscious acceptance of suffering”, whatever shape that suffering might have, is the key that opens the door to God’s heart in the vale of tears, sets us free to weep and be transformed by Divine Mercy. We are limited in our understanding and control of the suffering that comes our way, often undeserved and unnecessary and unwanted. But we are not limited in our ability to let go of the illusions of power that keep us from drinking the cups of sorrow that are set at the banquet table of life. We can only find our lives by losing them, find our solace by being sorrowful, weeping our way into the Heart of God, being transformed into the broken Hearts of God here on this earth.
Paul knew something about suffering. His writings tell us of his path to wholeness in times of trouble. “Now that we have been put right with God through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ... and we also rejoice in our troubles (suffering) because we know that troubles produce endurance, and endurance brings God’s approval, and his approval creates hope. This hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by means of the Holy Spirit who is God’s gift to us.” Romans 5: 1-3 Today’s English Version
This new year, Lord, will be full of joys and sorrows alike. Let my laughter be music to your ears and my joy affirm the pleasure you took in my creation. When I weep, take my tears and transform them by your mercy into the peace that passes all understanding. May I keep my heart turned towards you in all that comes my way. Give me strength to endure and grace for the journey. And may I never forget that my hope is in you, the Lover of my soul, the Love that will not let me go. Amen.