Reflections on Tuesday 3/19

Madeleine:

Theology of the Cross

March 19, 2013

There is so much suffering in the world. Today our group watched a world that enables others to suffer.  We saw those who are starving, people who have no place to go, and children whose families lack the means to give them limitless possibilities. Yet they all had hope, and in some ways perhaps they are the lucky ones.

The real measure of our wealth is how much we’d be worth if we lost everything—J.H. Jowett

On Monday I was working in a soup kitchen and a man came through the line. He was homeless, in need, and yet, he seemed so hopeful.  He told us a little joke after asking for a seeded-bagel. His hope brightened my day and made my service worth something. He had an abundance of hope where there was none…in a situation that seemed hopeless.  In worldly goods he had nothing, yet he was worth more than the richest king.

I myself feel privileged to be where I am, in college and able to afford the things I need. I watch these people who seem to have missed the invitation to the banquet of abundance, and it breaks my heart. I know I can never really understand the pain of severe poverty, yet I feel a tear of compassion them: a desire to help in any way that I can. I will never be able to understand, but easing the pain is a job I can undertake.

The pain has value. Saying that God only wants us to be happy is a popular idea because it makes us feel good. But how can someone  appreciate the good times without the contrast of the painful ones? God suffered and writhed in pain upon the cross for us. His sacrifice means everything and  it ought to ground us, to make us whole.

It could be said however that as a middle-class girl who lives in abundance I glorify the poor: making their strife sound romantic and necessary. Not everyone can be in need. That’s impractical, but someone has to give of themselves to sacrifice time, money , and abilities. These offerings also make people treasures because they are a measure of worthiness when nothing is left.

Someday, I pray that it be a long time from now, when stand before God and  all worldly goods and successes slip away. The only thing left is God and I. I want to be able to know that I honestly am a treasure of God.

We ended the night with prayers for our world. Each of us created an oil pastel masterpiece that showcased what we thought was important. In the end, light slips through a broken world. It heals what it can. It works as Aspirin for pains the world suffers.