The great privilege

We are often unaware of the ways in which one experience prepares us for future experiences.  This is true of our daily existence, and it is equally true of our experience of faith.

Food for the journey

Two weeks ago yesterday (Friday), I received a short note from a friend who lives in Southern Ontario.  The message was short and to the point: I’m asking for prayers for my grandson who has been diagnosed with leukemia.  My answer was immediate: Of course!  Since that day, the little boy in question and his family have not been far from my thoughts, and he is one of the intentions that I offer in prayer.  The family in question has a very deep faith, so it does not surprise me that they should reach out to others, asking for prayerful support.  Rather, what I am more deeply aware of in these recent days is the privilege that I – that we – are given.

The first reading we have heard today recounts the story of Elijah, a holy and very respected man who went away to a deserted place and prayed to die:  It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life (1 Kings 19:4).  These are the words of a man who is thinking human thoughts.  How often do we find ourselves doing the same: tired, even exhausted by the trials of life.  At times, we can even forget the fact that we ourselves are only instruments in the hands of God.  It is he who places us in situations where we are called to act in his name, and it is he who prepares us for the tasks we must face.  In the case of Elijah, he granted him some time to rest, to be restored by sleep, and to be strengthened by food.  Twice, God woke Elijah from his sleep and told him: Get up and eat (1Kings 19:5, 7).  It is often at times when we too find ourselves tired out by our journey that we come to realize our dependence on God, and he is constantly at work: feeding us, nourishing us with special food, preparing us for the next task that we must face.

We are often unaware of the ways in which this preparation takes place.  We can even begin to take it for granted at times, but when challenges find us, it is the food of faith that we have stored up that will see us through.  Since August 1 (last Saturday), the parents of the young boy I’ve been asked to pray for have been chronicling the daily developments in his treatment.  Their words portray the disbelief that I’ve heard of so often, and even experienced myself, when human beings are faced with a crisis: we wake up and we’re still here; it’s not a nightmare; no one changes their minds and says that the diagnosis is wrong.  As this week has gone on, they have watched their little boy undergo countless treatments and they are marvelling at his strength.  They suffer through the bad days and rejoice at the little signs of hope.

Trials are part of life, but it is often only when we are faced with such struggles that we truly come to appreciate the gift of our faith.  Only when life gets rough can we understand the strength that we can draw from our faith; only then do we truly grasp the reason why God the Father sent Jesus to live among us; only then can we truly understand that it is God himself who draws us to Jesus and that it is he who will raise us up (Jn 6:44).  Jesus himself is the living bread that came down from heaven (Jn 6:51).  Here around the table, we receive this bread so that we can be nourished, strengthened and prepared for the journey: so that we can be imitators of God … being kind to one another, tender-hearted, supporting one another with our prayer and forgiving one another as God, in Christ, has forgiven us (Eph 4:32-5:1).