“Sing out, heavens,
and rejoice, earth, break forth into song, you mountains, for the LORD comforts
his people and shows mercy to his afflicted.
But Zion said, ‘The LORD has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me.’ Can a
mother forget her infant, be without tenderness
for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you.”
~Isaiah 49:13-15
Suffering and tenderness—words that seem to beat against
each other in a dichotomy of emotions. In reality, the person of Jesus Christ
breaks down the barriers that our feeble minds tend to put up in opposition to
seemingly contradictory phrases. Isn’t it Christ who said, “For whoever wishes
to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find
it” (Matthew 16:25)?
In a world in which
the concept of suffering is often viewed in terms of punishment, we tend to put
limits on the mercy of God. In so doing, we fail to see God as Comforter and
Mother and instead project our affliction back unto God. We forget that our God
is a God of tender, loving mercy. So often in my own life I have dwelt on
physical & spiritual pain, deep wounds, the anguishes of bitterness &
resentments, and memories that hurt. In holding onto these things, we close ourselves
off to the embrace of the Father. We fail to see the God who would suffer and
die for us and, unfortunately, we give into forsakenness. And because we give
into this forsakenness, we forget that we are loved & loveable and, in
turn, worthy of the tender embrace of God.
Recently, I yielded to these temptations. Despair is at the
bottom of a deep dark ocean, but I discovered that God’s mercy is waiting in those
depths. At the height my desolation, I went to a votive Mass to the Sacred
Heart, in which the priest gave a homily on the tenderness of the heart of the
Father. I realized that I had dwelt so much on the wounds that I had closed
myself off to the tender mercy of God.
Since I have arrived in my apostolate, this same priest—a
very holy and devote soul— has offered prayers for me daily, by name. He became
a great support for me in my trials and offered moments of clarity and
understanding. In a form only known to
him, I shared with him my afflictions. A few days after the above homily, this
Father Logan was rushed to the hospital with various complications. With my
Sisters, we visited him in the hospital and prayed the chaplet of Divine Mercy
with him. During the chaplet, Father Logan looked at me with such intense
tenderness. I felt like I was being gazed upon by the suffering Christ on the
Cross. His eyes said, “This is for you. If I, who am His priest, can suffer to
show you what mercy is, how much more has Jesus done so for you?” Father Logan
died the next day.
My desperate plea was not only heard, the message of the
Passion—tender love expressed as mercy—unfolded in my very presence through the
instrument of Fr. Logan. His redemptive suffering showed me the tenderness of a
God who does not forsake, but shows mercy to his afflicted by taking on
suffering and redeeming it.
- Sister M. Clementia, FSGM
Comments
My name is Kima Booker. My daughter Lillian had her 7th birthday today and for her birthday gift she chose to get a Vocatiion doll. I explained to her that the doll was actually an imagine of a real person. She was so excited so we started to google you to see if there was any more information about you out there. I'm not sure if your able to have contact with others out here but if you can she would really like to correspond with you every once in awhile.
God Bless,
Kima Booker
kimabooker@hotmail.com
It would be a joy and honor to be a pen-pal to Lillian. She can pick any one of our convents (listed on: http://www.altonfranciscans.org/contact). I am located at our convent in Rock Island, IL (if she so chooses to write me). May God bless you and your family and please be assured of my prayers as you foster vocations towards our young ones.