Susan's Musings: The Weak of This World

In his book, Descending Fire: The Journal of a Soul Aflame, Father Jean Petit, a renowned spiritual director, meditates on the paradox that “the more we taste the bitterness of our apparently unsuccessful work, the more the divine fire quickens our soul and works in us what our weakness cannot accomplish.”

In a world that tends to mock us when we do not succeed and that tries to convince us we are nothing but failures, we rely on the truth proclaimed by the Apostle Paul, “…God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong” (1 Cor 1:27).

It embarrasses us to look foolish in the eyes of others. We may go so far as to falsify what we know to be true to meet with the approval of those we hope to impress with our competence. We hate the idea that we might be labeled as less “in the know” than they are.

The pressure on us to be successful may be so intense that we choose to exhaust ourselves rather than fall short of fulfilling either others’ expectations or our own ambitions. And yet, we must admit in humility that we are and never will be perfect; we are sinners in need of redemption. Again, in the words of the Apostle Paul, “So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me…for whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:9-10).

Wounded though we are by sin, Christ came to save us and “to sympathize with our weakness” (Heb 4:15). There is no reason for us to conclude that we are “lost causes” due perhaps to severe addictions or psychological problems. A child showing “damages” in the womb would never be better off aborted! An elder suffering from severe memory loss and other debilitating health issues ought never to be euthanized!

Scripture welcomes those who are also “weak in faith” (Rom 14:1), reminding us that when we feel unable to pray the Spirit “helps us in our weakness” (Rom 8:26).

Amid disappointments, betrayals of the Gospel, failed plans, and afflictions that never seem to cease, we feel, much to our amazement, that the more we decrease, the more the fire of God’s love increases in our souls.

Peter, who denied Jesus three times, became the rock on which the Lord built his Church. The early martyrs, bloodied by wild beasts, turned the hardened hearts of their captors to Christ. A twenty-four-year-old Carmelite nun, dying of tuberculosis, became a saint and Doctor of the Church, who vowed to spend her heaven casting roses on earth. For Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, death itself is a mystery of undying love.

The fire and light of the Holy Spirit fulfill in us what we, in our weakness, could never accomplish. That may be the reason why Mother Teresa of Kolkata could confirm that being faithful is more important than being successful. There is no shame in remaining humble, in exuding detachment, or in practicing charity, especially when the love we show is not shown to us in turn.

Weakness reveals to a broken world that when we are as lost as the Prodigal Son, we are found by our forgiving Father.

Instead of pretending that we are self-reliant, it is best to acknowledge that we are dependent on God for everything--from the air we breathe to the good deeds we do. Whether we receive recognition or not, we can still identify with Jesus, who is “the pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Heb 12:2). He turns a benevolent eye toward our limits so that we may “approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb 4:16).

Our aim is to be able to say with all of the saints, “So I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:9-10).