How Not to Carry Our Cross

How greatly we add to our crosses by being cross with them! ~Friedrich Von Hugel

Sometimes I consult the dictionary just to remind myself what a word means. Today the word is the adjective "cross." One dictionary defines it as showing ill humor or being annoyed. And they mean...

ill humor -- an irritable state of mind; surliness

annoyed -- aroused to impatience or anger

Oh dear! Is this how I am when I am cross with my crosses? Surly? Angry? I see pride lurking there -- or perhaps I should say lurking in my heart. Mea culpa...

It's not all about me. It's about the Lord, Jesus Crucified, walking with Him the road to Calvary, sharing in His Passion so as to enter more fully into His Resurrection, sharing also in the sufferings of my brothers and sisters and not making crosses for them by being so cross with my own.

One Lent, that was a question that arose in my reading, or maybe it was a workshop or talk I attended. Whatever, it's a good question for all seasons, not just for Lent. "Do I make crosses for other people?" Yes, sometimes I do. And one way is by being cross with my crosses, grumbling and complaining about them to anybody who will listen, which is almost always an invitation to them to join my pity party. Or maybe I don't say anything to anyone, but I think that enough is enough, I don't need this particular cross, I have enough to carry as it is, why me, and other such self-pitying things.

There it is again -- pride. ...mea culpa, mea maxima cupla!

"For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate... Miserable one that I am! Who will deliver me from this mortal body? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord." (Rom 7:15, 24-25)

Dear Jesus, gentle and humble of heart, teach me how to carry my cross, with You and for You. "Put a steadfast spirit within me...give me again the joy of Your help" (Ps 50). And Lord, please deliver me from myself! Amen.

The Power of Compassion

In the gospel from today's Mass (Mt 9:27-31), our Lord Jesus has compassion on two blind men who cry out to him for help. He heals them, and with their sight renewed, they go and spread the word of God's goodness and mercy.

In today's news, CNN follows up on a would-be robbery in Long Island this past May. As Mohammad Sohail closed his convenience store, a man barged into his store armed with a baseball bat and demanded money. Sohail grabbed his ever-ready rifle, aimed it at the robber's face, and forced him to the floor. The would-be robber started pleading for mercy, explaining "I'm sorry, I have no food. I have no money. My whole family is hungry. Don't call the police. Don't shoot me." According to CNN, "Sohail made the man pledge never to rob anybody ever again, then gave the man $40 and a loaf bread. Sohail, who is from Pakistan, said the man then wanted to be a Muslim like him, so he recited an Islamic oath and gave the would-be robber the name Nawaz Sharif Zardari." Sohail did not call the police then and has not pressed charges since.

This past Wednesday, Sohail received an envelope in the mail with no return address. It contained a $50 bill and a note from the would-be robber who was transformed by Sohail's compassion. The typed note begins, ""You change My Life (sic)," and the man apologizes for his actions, says that Sohail inspired him to become a "True Muslin," and declares that his life has changed dramatically.

The power of compassion is inestimable. One single act of kindness has far-reaching effects that we cannot begin to imagine and may never grasp. On his deathbed, Baron Friedrich von Hügel, Austrian Roman Catholic layman and religious writer, theologian and apologist, said "Caring is the greatest thing ,caring matters most." To care is to love, to give life. It is a very real way to shine the light of Advent upon our dark and dreary world.

Dear Mary, Virgin of the Advent, help us to shine the light of your Son's compassion upon everyone we meet on our Advent journey. Amen.