Memorial of Saint Charles Lwanga and companions

Rocks

When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived;

but when she has given birth to a child,
she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy
that a child has been born into the world.
So you also are now in anguish.
But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice,
and no one will take your joy away from you.

The New Testament is full of similes and parables of astonishing genius and this one is especially dazzling; it is both persuasive and reassuring. Many of us personally know the anguish of childbirth, either as birthing mothers or terrified husbands; and all of us have heard the stories. And we remember the joy of that baby’s first cry. We have seen the exhausted, sweat-drenched, radiant face of the new mother, the suddenly tranquil infant – so unbelievably small – and the weeping relief of the new father. After so many months of hope, expectation and fright the young man counts the baby’s fingers and toes and knows that All things will be well and all manner of things will be well.

Jesus uses this most common experience of stress and elation to reassure his disciples, even as he approaches the irresistible vortex of arrest, condemnation, torture, crucifixion and death. The disciples will endure overwhelming horror and fear. They will be scattered like a flock of sheep before marauding lions. Their faith in him will seem like the naiveté of imbeciles. The sacrifices they have made -- abandoning their families, trades and social standing -- to follow an itinerant preacher will seem like utter folly.

But through it all his words will echo in their ears, I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice and no one will take your joy away from you.

Two millennia later, Christians face the same anguish and recall the same promise. Many who are dear to us have become disheartened and dropped out along the way. They have been seduced by the prospect of short-lived pleasures or the promise of less satisfying compromises. But the Holy Spirit still gathers us through his gaping wounds into the heart of Jesus. His Eucharist still fascinates us though our children find it boring and our neighbors think it monotonous. We feel the joy of which he speaks although it is now only a promise, and that is enough for us.