It is when we are Weak that we are Made Strong
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by Fr. Andrew Demotses
IT IS WHEN WE ARE WEAK THAT WE ARE MADE STRONG
All
of us have been shaken to the core by the terrible events that have
unfolded before our eyes this week, and which have taken a fiercesome
toll of human life, and have inflicted unimaginable suffering on
innocent victims and their families alike. As I thought about all these
events, I was struck by the fact that they have deep religious lessons
to teach us.
When something as painful as this occurs, it
seems to me that at least one of its results is the fostering of a
greater and more sensitized sense of our dependency on God than is
usually encountered in our country. And this is in some ways natural
because the enviable level of material well-being and the technological
advances of our great land are, in some respects, a spiritual liability
in that they blind us to our utter weakness in the face of events such
as these. Both the prosperity and the technology we enjoy are indeed
great blessings in our lives, but they nonetheless give us a sense of
empowerment and drive us to triumphant feeling of self-reliance,
self-sufficiency, and independence-a sense that we are somehow both
strong and invulnerable. And this illusion of strength, for indeed it
is an illusion and only that, stands as a hindrance to the proper
relationship with God that each of us as Christians should actively be
seeking in our lives.
God who alone judges the great events of
history though the prison of eternity acts according to what is most
expedient for our salvation. Sometimes this means that our prayers are
not answered in the way we would have wanted or expected. At other
times, we are allowed to experience various trials and difficulties
which compel us to recognize and acknowledge our all too human
weakness, and thus oblige us to ask for the help and support of His
almighty power. Many of us have experienced a spiritual reawakening
precisely when we found ourselves immersed in the crucible of pain and
suffering. Human strength, exposed for what it is, evaporates at times
like this; in this dark region of human experience not unlike what we
are enduring these very days, we are compelled to reach out to God in
our suffering, and we behold that "out of our weakness we begin to be
made strong."
These terrible events, quite apart from the evil
they represent, also serve to strip away our illusion of
self-sufficiency and reveal to us our fragility and need for God. By
this I don't mean to imply that unspeakable acts such as these have any
nobility; rather, I am simply pointing out that they stir us from our
natural complacency and sensitize us to the deeper truths that we must
inevitably confront, truths that do not lead themselves to resolution
either with the computer or the check book.
If we were but
more attentive, we would soon discover that the normal conditions of
everyday life offer many opportunities for us to recognize our
weaknesses, and to acknowledge our dependence upon God. As we advance
in years, for example, and begin to experience the physical weakness
that inevitably result, we suddenly confront how fragile our mortal
body truly is, in spite of our culture with its fixation on
youthfulness and longevity. But we must acknowledge that it is most
often times of crises such as these which most clearly expose our
weaknesses, and inspire the kind of fervent prayer answered literally
by miracles.
As I left my office on that bitter Tuesday
afternoon to go home, I was deeply troubled and melancholy. But as I
drove up Lowell Street, I saw a ray of hope and light in the dark
despair of the day's events-a line two blocks long of people waiting to
donate blood. When I arrived at home and saw for the first time the
terrible television images, I also saw the mayor of New York thanking
large numbers of doctors and nurses who had called city offices and
offered to drive hundreds of miles to help in the care of the wounded.
I heard the mayor say-thank you but we have already received all the
help we can possible use for the moment. And I thought-Is all this not
God's mercy at work through us?
My brothers and sisters, God
is the vine, and we are only the branches. He is the Father, and we are
the children; He is the physician and we are the patients in the need
of healing. This is the kind of relationship we must cultivate,
acknowledging our weakness and insignificance, and thereby allowing God
to "over-take" us with His power, so that the delusions by which we
have lived might be swept away, and in their place, God can assume His
rightful place in our lives.
And there is another equally
important lesson to be learned, but in order to do so we must go to the
hardest place of all. We must imagine the unimaginable-the thousands of
families who parted that morning without suspecting that they would
never see each other again. Fathers who left and would never return.
Parents who saw beloved children leave for work without realizing that
it would be the final farewell. Lost brothers, sisters, dearest
friends, colleagues, and fiancés, all suddenly, and irretrievably lost.
Does this not teach us how precious we are to one another? Does
anyone doubt that if we were to take this lesson to heart we would
speak to each other with greater tenderness and affection? Does anyone
doubt that our hugs would be longer, and our hearts more forgiving? No,
as we approach and stare into the abyss, we cannot help but cling more
closely to each other.
This brings us to our final point as we
ponder and consider the nature of our suffering on the one hand, and
our dependence on God on the other. It is oftentimes an irony that our
greatest nobility as human beings is demonstrated in times such as
these, times of great adversity and tribulation. It is precisely then
that great acts of courage, love and compassion are performed by the
most ordinary of people. It is precisely then that those who have not
been directly and immediately touched by the tragedy of the moment can
respond with the profoundest generosity of spirit to those of their
brothers and sisters who find themselves in the midst and great
suffering as one would expect, but also respond in like way to all
those who are close to them.
Were we to do this, we would
invest this great sacrifice with the deepest possible substance and
meaning. We would insure that not one of our brethren had died in vain-
because we would have learned from them to make of our world a better
place-a place where love is stronger, where life is gentler, and where
the Kingdom of God is more truly present.
Rev. Andrew Demotses Pastor,
St. Vasilios Greek Orthodox Church
Peabody, MA 01960
http://www.stvasilios.org
