I used to read comic books fairly regularly. As a 14-year-old boy, I was a fan of the comic book hero Flash, the super-speedy hero who could run faster than the speed of sound. Since I was young, comics were difficult to pick up reliably, but I did what I could to get issues most months. Still, I didn’t think it was a huge problem when I missed issue #14, way back in 1988; I figured I would catch up with the next issue. So I was quite surprised when I picked up issue #15, and discovered that – in the previous issue (which, again, I’d missed) – the hero had lost all his money and worldly belongings, was evicted from his house, had lost his superpowers, and had broken up with his girlfriend. I was flabbergasted; how could so much happen so quickly? All of that was literally summarized in three caption boxes for our moping hero.
That childhood befuddlement came to mind when I reflected on today’s readings. The first reading — from the Book of Acts — describes all manner of things going wrong for the early Church: a persecution of the Church in Jerusalem, the imprisonment and scattering of believers, the burial of St. Stephen (my namesake! Noooo!!!), the schemes of Saul as he tried to destroy the Church . . . and that was all described in three lines of Scripture.
I found myself thinking about how those events must have felt to the believers . . how hopeless it all must have seemed, how nothing seemed to be going right, how unsure they must have felt as they succumbed to sleep each evening, wondering what troubles the next day would bring.
But the Gospel selection from John helps put things in perspective for me, especially its final words: “For this is the will of my Father,
that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day.”
I’m sure you’ve heard that line before, but think of what it means and what it implies:
- “This is the will of my Father” — Okay; the Father has a will . . . that is, He knows how He wants things to work. And since He’s omnipotent, we have to assume that this plan will come to fruition.
- “. . . everyone who sees the Son and believes in him” — This is the “caveat” to the previous statement. The Father could force us to his bidding — He has the power — but He leaves it to our own free will. The decision to believe is ultimately ours . . . as are the ultimate consequences of that decision.
- “. . . may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day.” — And this is the “prize,” the reason we’re really alive.
In a lot of ways, this mortal world is like being in a hospital. (This is a crazy metaphor, but bear with me.) The purpose of the hospital is to prepare you for another life . . . a life beyond daily recovery at a medical center. In a hospital, the two possible outcomes are “life afterwards” or “death”; in a similar way, our own lives are preparatory grounds for “life eternal” or “death, outside of Heaven.”
Although a hospital can be made more-or-less comfortable, comfort in that healthcare room is not a goal unto itself. It doesn’t matter how comfy you find the pillows, or how tasty the Jell-O snacks are with dinner: if you’re overly attached to those amenities, you’re missing the point of being in a hospital, namely, to prepare yourself for life outside the hospital.
So it is with the tumult of our daily lives. If we’re comfortable in our daily lives — if we avoid the chaos that befell the early Church — then we should be grateful! But “the will of the Father” doesn’t guarantee a life free from stress in this world; it guarantees much more than that — eternal life with God.
If you find yourself stressed by the challenges of your day-to-day life, think of their brevity in the grand scheme of things. Incredible turmoil befell the Church in three lines of Scripture, and — in the grand scheme of things — it’s a footnote to the larger story of the Faith. That doesn’t make those three lines any less painful in the moment, but perhaps you can find solace in knowing that those moments are thin compared to the greatness of God’s plan.
If your own life does not have the turmoil of “three lines” of Scripture, thank God for that blessing. And, if you are able to do so, consider looking around you for others who are going through their own “three lines” of torment. Do what you can to comfort them and provide aid in the storm of their own lives. Because, as with all of us, the storm shall pass, leaving — hopefully — the calmness of a life with the Lord.
Today’s readings: Acts 8:1B-8; Ps 66:1-3A,4-5,6-7A; Jn 6:35-40
