Loss

Some things stick in our minds and never leave us. When in the midst of my panic attack, my friend Nikki Westby, a cognitive behavioral therapist, said something that had never occurred to me, and which hit me like a ton of bricks:

"From the moment we are born, we begin to experience loss."

Blink. Blink.

I've pondered those words for almost two years now, and the fruit has been profound.

It now makes perfect sense to me that every pain in life, every suffering we endure whether physical or mental or emotional, is connected to some kind of loss.

Loss of childhood.

Loss of youth.

Loss of innocence.

Loss of friendship.

Loss of a romance.

Loss of companionship.

Loss of a loved one.
Loss of a parent.
Loss of a sibling.
Loss of a spouse.
Loss of a child.

Loss of a job.

Loss of a community.

Loss of prosperity.

Loss of security.

Loss of health.

Loss of abilities.

Loss of pets.

Loss of homes.

Loss of expectations.

Loss of an intact family.

Loss of good looks and beauty.

Loss of memories.

Loss of material possessions.

Loss of autonomy.

Loss of one's good reputation.
Loss of identity.
Loss of homeland.

Loss of physical comfort.

Loss of mental acuity.

Loss of dreams. 

And on and on and on.

Ultimately and inevitably, it all culminates in the loss of life itself.

In the western world, we tend to live as if death will never come for us, and we blot it out of our minds by seeking as much pleasure and material comfort as we can. We avoid suffering at all costs. But when we train so hard and condition ourselves so thoroughly for a pain-free existence, we are unprepared, shocked, and even indignant when loss does come our way. It was not, after all, a part of our carefully laid plans.

But no matter how fiercely committed we are to maintaining strict control of our lives, the losses will keep coming, and they will never let up. The more we fight and claw to hold on to the things that cannot ultimately stay in our grasp, the more we compound our pain, suffering, confusion, and angst. The longer we live, the more losses we will endure, and if we have not understood and accepted what God is doing for us, we risk becoming more and more anxious and fearful, perhaps even falling into despair.

What, then, do we do?

The way I see it, we should view every loss for what it is: Our loving Father detaching us from the things of this world, a world which is passing away, so that we might attach to Him. He only allows us to lose something in order to gain something greater. 

Detachment from the world = Attachment to God. 

For a while now, I've been all about the concept of total surrender, abandonment to a God who loves us and can be trusted. Surrender does not mean passivity, as of course we may and should fight disease, disaster, injustice, sin, corruption, and every kind of moral and physical evil while we are here. Fight the good fight every day, for sure, but do so with a proper understanding of holy detachment, and the realization that every earthly loss really is a step toward Heaven. 

When we truly trust the Lord, we no longer live in fear of losses that are beyond our control. The pain of the loss will still be felt, even searingly, but the fear and anxiety that precede and accompany that loss will be replaced with an interior peace, and yes, as the saints tell us, even supernatural, unimaginable joy. 

Back to Nikki's words, then: The image of a newborn baby beginning a lifetime of loss is no longer jarring or tragic, but hopeful. Each loss is a detachment that marks a human life's journey all the way to the Beatific Vision, the end for which we were made. 

From the perspective of Heaven, our loss is gain. And all is well. 

Let's talk about suffering

I wrote this observation on my Facebook page to mixed reviews among faithful Catholics (some loved it, some thought it was insensitive, more an accusation than an observation):

"I am stunned at how often Christians wish to throw off and avoid their crosses and sufferings, considering how often Christ told us we would and must suffer on this earth. I think it's an American thing."

A non-Christian friend thought the whole thing was interesting and suggested writing about it on the Bubble. I think that is a good idea.

We already discussed redemptive suffering here, something that even most Christians have never heard of. And I wrote of how the worst suffering in my life so far brought me the most peace I've known (I am not saying I will do well next time suffering comes, but that's where it stands right now).

And I've mentioned before that abandonment to God, no matter what He sends our way, is the only way to peace and joy, according to Jesus (who insisted we must suffer with Him) and the saints. Total death to our own wills, total surrender to His.

This passage from my favorite book is so powerful to me -- it was like a lightbulb going off in my head, and it might be powerful and helpful to some of you as well:

This understanding, and this spiritual principle of surrender, or total abandonment, has helped me immeasurably in my journey. I believe to my core that it is the key to the peace and joy that our loving Father wants for us. I want to share it with everyone, because there is so much suffering all around us, and so much fear and anxiety. 

If this discussion might be of any help to someone who is suffering, it's worth having. Let's talk. 

+++++++

A great means to preserve continual peace and tranquility of soul is to receive everything from the hands of God, both great and small, and in whatever way it comes.

--St. Dorotheus

The mystery of suffering and a personal story

I've written about suffering before, offering both a secular view of suffering and the Catholic understanding of suffering. (And this week many of us were struck by Simcha Fisher's stunningly powerful piece on the subject.)

To live is to suffer. No matter how hard we try to avoid suffering, it's not going away. Sometimes we will suffer to the limit of what we can bear, and at some point we may ask God, Why?


We should get one thing straight up front: Man's Original Sin introduced suffering into this world (read more about how that happened, here). But though we humans brought suffering upon ourselves, God remains a loving Father. He allows suffering, yes, but not for our harm; He allows us to undergo suffering so that we might be healed.

Here's my real life experience to help illustrate the concept:

When my fourth child was 21 months old, a large metal toy truck fell off a bed and struck his mouth, resulting in a deep gash above his lip. After the initial injury and tears, he recovered his composure and was feeling fine, even as I drove him to the hospital for stitches. My father met us there, and my son played happily with us in the ER waiting room, having no idea what was to come.

When we were finally brought to an examining room, my baby began to get a bit uncomfortable. The lights were too bright, and a strange lady was in his face, pushing around near his wound. He became increasingly upset and signaled to me and grandpa that he wanted to get down. We wouldn't let him.

I held my baby down while the doctor injected his lip. I felt sick when I saw the panic in his eyes, yet I continued to pin him firmly to the table as the scary woman forced a sharp, hooked needle in and out of his flesh. He was screaming and could barely hear my soothing words. But worse, he was pleading to me, repeatedly calling my name and begging, "Mama, no!!"

As I facilitated this torture, my baby became more and more frightened. He cried out to grandpa for help, and none came. Grandpa stood by with gentle words and concerned eyes, but he did not rescue the grandson who trusted him and expected protection. My boy's tear-choked words were limited by his age, but his terrified expression spoke directly to me: Why are you helping her? Why don't you make it stop? Don't you love me?

Yes, I loved him, and yes I had the power to end his suffering, but I wasn't going to do it. I knew something that he couldn't have known then: I was allowing this suffering for his healing and restoration, not for his harm. I could be trusted. His toddler mind, of course, didn't understand.

Now that dear son is fourteen years old and his mind has expanded. He has heard the story, even smiles at the retelling, and he understands. What was a dark mystery to him then makes perfect sense to him today.

Thanks to Jesus and His Cross, Christians have a glimpse into the mystery of redemptive suffering. God knows what our souls need to be restored, and even in the midst of our greatest trials, He can be trusted. He is a good Father and He loves His children. We may not fully understand why a particular cross was given to us, but we trust that it's for our healing. And when all is revealed in Heaven one day, when our minds are expanded and our Father shows us how our sufferings worked for our good, we will joyfully understand.

"It is in suffering that we are withdrawn from the bright superficial film of existence, from the sway of time and mere things and find ourselves in the presence of profounder truth." 

+ Fr. Yves Conger, French priest-theologian. 

"Life is like a bad night in a bad inn."

+ St. Teresa of Avila

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Suffering, Catholic style! Part Two of the suffering posts.

A few days ago, I presented a secular view of suffering. I posited that, for the secular left, suffering is seen as worse than sin or death. Suffering has no meaning, and the goal becomes maximizing pleasure and avoiding pain.

There is a very different view of suffering on the Catholic side o' town.

The late, great John Cardinal O'Connor of New York once told a suffering woman, "Christ could have saved the world by His miracles, but He chose to save the world by His suffering."

This great truth is the basis of our understanding of redemptive suffering.

Let me back up a bit...

When Adam and Eve sinned and fell from grace, suffering and death entered the world. Because of this Original Sin, we are separated from God and stuck in a disordered, fallen world. Nothing comes easy for us, and suffering is our lot. Anyone who says this world is not a vale of tears is smoking something funny, or is actually a pod person. (While most Americans are bred to believe that life should be mostly joyful with moments of difficulty, life is actually mostly difficult, with moments of incredible joy.)

So Adam and Eve blew it, and for generations (long before Jesus came), God's people tried to "make it right" with God by offering animal sacrifices to the Lord. But none of those sacrifices were good enough. Then one day Jesus came to meet us in this vale of tears. Jesus (the God-Man) bridged the chasm between God and man, and by His great suffering and death on the Cross, He offered Himself as a perfect sacrifice to the Father. Jesus' sacrifice of love was so pleasing to the Father that it merited grace in abundance, enough to redeem all the world! The gates of Heaven were now open again, to all men of good will.

Jesus' suffering was redemptive.

What does that have to do with our suffering? Well, when we were baptized, we were baptized into the Body of Christ. We are the Body of Christ. When we "offer up" our sufferings in union with Christ's suffering on the Cross, we, as His Body, are participating in His atoning work! When God the Father looks upon our offering, He sees His Son's offering, and He is pleased... and graces come flowing down in abundance!

Do you get how amazing this is??

When we unite our suffering with Christ's suffering, we participate in the redemption of the world! 

It is as dramatic as it sounds! 

When offered to God, no suffering is meaningless. No suffering is wasted. No suffering is worse than death. Suffering offered in union with Christ's Cross has explosive power, including the power to sanctify not only our own souls, but to call down grace upon others as well. The saints knew this. The saints had an abundance of grace in their own souls already, but yet the suffering they endured was profound. What was it for? What was it worth? It was offered for souls. The saints offered their sufferings for the sins of the world, for the souls of others, and it was redemptive, because it was offered in union with Christ's suffering. This is how the Body of Christ works!

Now, this doesn't mean we go looking for suffering (suffering will find us without us having to look for it), and it doesn't mean that we stand by while others suffer (we are called to ease the sufferings of others). But when suffering comes, it is not meaningless; it is of great value to ourselves and to the world.

Many Protestants object to the concept of redemptive suffering, saying, "But Jesus didn't need our help in redeeming the world. His sacrifice was sufficient. We can add nothing to it!"

They are certainly right that Jesus did not need our help. In fact, God doesn't need us at all; He is God! But if you think God wouldn't receive and use our offering, read this reflection by Jewish convert Rosiland Moss*, as she struggled with the idea of redemptive suffering when she was leaving evangelicalism for Catholicism:

I thought immediately of a mother baking a cake, and her little child in the kitchen with her. The mother has everything there sufficient for the cake; but here comes the daughter and says, 'Mommy, I want to help.' So the mother receives the daughter because that love receives. She lets the daughter put the eggs in. Is the mother sufficient? Yes. Does she need the daughter? No. Does she allow the daughter to add? Yes. The daughter's addition is not needed, but it's received and it's a true addition. And I thought, 'That's love.'

Let's look to Scripture and see what St. Paul says on the subject:

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church...  -- Colossians 1:24

What?! Something was "lacking" in Christ's afflictions? Something that St. Paul "completed" in his very flesh, rejoicing in his sufferings? What was lacking? What is lacking? Our part is lacking. Our part, where we offer our own sufferings for the sake of the Body of Christ, the Church.


Redemptive suffering. Praise God, it's a beautiful thing.

_____


*Edited in 2019 to add that Moss is now known as Mother Miriam! A holy and wonderful woman.
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Clarifying, and a PSA

Hi all! I just want to clarify a couple of things.


First, bear with me if my posts are simple and short, and if my responses in the comments are even simpler and shorter. I think I must have A.D.D! I always need to get right to the heart of it, in as few words as possible. And, I can't handle the "multiplication of words" that seems to come when I try to address every single point that is brought up (which is a battle for me, because I always want to address every single point that is brought up!). So, forgive me. It's not you, it's me. That's why I love when other commenters jump in and address whatever points I may have missed or can't get to. Thank you all, on both sides of the spectrum!


Second, I am so sorry I didn't clarify this earlier. I am not writing this blog to find "consensus." The idea that "consensus" can be found on every issue is a liberal model. I don't subscribe to the consensus model when it comes to issues of objective truth, life or death, etc. We cannot find "consensus" between truth and error. Now, that is not popular to say in this culture, but I just said it. :) 


Still.... that does not mean that I don't strive to understand the other side. As I've said many times, I am interested in understanding why liberals think as they do. My oft-repeated line from Dennis Prager: I prefer clarity to agreement. We don't have to agree, and we don't have to find "consensus." But we do need to be clear on what we believe and what others believe. At least then no one is misrepresenting the other side, and we can begin to understand each other. Clarity is good.


So, I was disappointed when Gwen and Mai decided not to even touch the issue of suffering in my last post, but bowed out immediately. I presented what I thought was a fair representation of the liberal view of suffering. If I was wrong, tell me. Show me how I misrepresented things, and set me straight with the correct view. Tell me where I am not understanding. It's really not a trap.


Finally, a little Public Service Announcement:


If you love EWTN, Mother Angelica and Raymond Arroyo, and if you live in the Phoenix area, please join us on November 12, for the Bioethics Defense Fund's "Passion for Life" benefit!  Both Mother Angelica and Raymond Arroyo will be receiving the Witness for Life Award (better than a Bubble Award!!). Mother cannot be in attendance due to her fragile health, but Mr. Arroyo will be accepting the award on her behalf. I personally cannot wait! Register here, if interested!


And, for more information about Bioethics Defense Fund, go here. BDF was founded by my dear friends, Nik Nikas and Dorinda Bordlee, two of the nation's very few full-time pro-life attorneys. Nik and Dorinda speak at law schools all over the country, they draft pro-life legislation nationally and internationally, and they are two of the greatest people I know. I love, love, love them, and they are definitely Bubble Buddies! They are heroes in the trenches, fighting the Culture of Death on the legal and legislative front every single day, and they are worthy of our support!


Here is the BDF Mission Statement:


Bioethics Defense Fund is a public-interest law firm whose mission is to advocate for the human right to life through litigation, legislation and public education, on the issues of healthcare rights of conscience, abortion, human cloning/destructive human embryo research, and end of life issues including physician-assisted suicide and healthcare rationing.


I hope to see you there! I would love to finally meet some bloggers.... :)




PS: I will get to the post on the Christian meaning of suffering just as soon as I can.

Is suffering worse than death? Part One.

In my quest to understand modern liberalism, I have discovered that for the secular left, the worst thing in life is suffering or potential suffering. Not sin, not evil, not even death. It is suffering that must be avoided at all costs. 

Here’s what I have seen recently that backs up my theory:

1) Peter Singer, the esteemed bioethicist at Princeton (whom I blogged about here), believes that if bearing and raising a disabled child will cause his parents to suffer, the child should be put to death, even long after birth. As he and his many supporters see it, this killing is a way to end the suffering and potential suffering of both the child and the parents:

When the death of a disabled infant will lead to the birth of another infant with better prospects of a happy life, the total amount of happiness will be greater if the disabled infant is killed. The loss of happy life for the first infant is outweighed by the gain of a happier life for the second. Therefore, if killing the haemophiliac infant has no adverse effect on others, it would, according to the total view, be right to kill him.

2) We have heard from liberal bloggers again and again (commenting on this blog and their own) that it is often better for an unborn child to die by abortion than to live, due to the potential for suffering. For example, Mai said: 

Religious Right policies on abortion sound good in theory, but are a disaster when applied to real life. Take for example children born to parent(s) (often the father is absent) who are poor or unwilling to care for a child, let alone be healthy enough to maintain a healthy pregnancy.

Presumably, the "disaster" is that the child or the mother might suffer. 


And Sophie recently stated: 

I believe that abortion is the right choice in some situations, such as certain cases of teen pregnancy. Don't you agree it is better for both mother and embryo to lose the fetus and continue living as a teenager than it is to be possibly disowned, homeless, and susceptible to disease? 

The very possibility of suffering, of being disowned, homeless and susceptible to disease (a possibility in any life, mine and yours included) is enough to justify an abortion. 


3) Then there are the accusations against Mother Teresa. Until I did a little research, I had no idea that hating on Mother T. was a cottage industry among those on the secular left! The attacks echo a remark I saw this week, written by a proud abortion supporter:

I would most definitely have said [f*** you] to Mother Theresa. She was a fanatic. A marketing tool for the church, and simply a fraud. She never opposed poverty, but thought the suffering of the poor was something noble, a god-given blessing that humanity should be thankful for. She never treated the suffering patients she had in Calcutta with the millions she made, she kept them there suffering, reading fairy tales, and receiving non-professional medical assistance to keep them in their state. 

(Emphasis mine, and yes, this person went on and on some more, but I think you get the gist....)

4) Finally, many of us saw the shocking video a couple of days ago of a British advice columnist being interviewed for a TV segment called, “Can abortion be a kindness?” Be sure to watch the clip (your jaw will drop), but here’s an excerpt:  

Miss Ironside said: ‘If a baby’s going to be born severely disabled or totally unwanted, surely an abortion is the act of a loving mother.’

She added: ‘If I were the mother of a suffering child – I mean a deeply suffering child – I would be the first to want to put a pillow over its face… If it was a child I really loved, who was in agony, I think any good mother would.’

I was consoled to see that the two other ladies on the set were as appalled as I was. However, Miss Ironside seemed thoroughly confused to learn that most good mothers would not smother their own suffering children.

(By the way, does anyone else see a contradiction in her assertion that a "totally unwanted" baby could have a "loving mother"? How does that work, exactly? It's sort of like if I said to my husband, "You are totally unwanted! Aren't I a loving wife?" But I digress...)

These are just a few recent examples I found with little effort. If you are skeptical that liberals really feel this way, keep your eyes and ears open. Read what those on the secular left are saying every day. Watch their news shows, read their articles and blogs. Pay special attention when they start talking about "quality of life." You will find the same theme again and again: Evil isn't the biggest evil, suffering is. Death isn't the biggest evil, suffering is. Suffering is the one thing we must not tolerate, even if it means we (or others) must die (or be killed) to avoid it.

Liberals, if I am misrepresenting you, please show me where I am wrong. You know you will be uncensored here.

And, stay tuned, because soon I will present a very different view of human suffering -- the Christian view.