Monday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time
Jesus warns the crowds today, “It is an evil generation that demands a sign” (Luke 11:29), adding that the only sign he will give is the sign of Jonah. Jonah the prophet fled from God, but became an instrument of God’s glory, in spite of himself — swallowed by a great fish and transported to where he would rather not go — a metaphor for death and rebirth.
The belly of the great fish symbolizes an incubator space. In such “hot house dwellings,” going down into the depths, we can be spit out onto a new shore so as to see with more clarity our calling, our place, and our purpose. Unless we descend we cannot ascend. This is the great metaphor of the story. This is the great metaphor of Christian life.
Christians call it the Paschal Mystery. We are transformed through death and rising, a graced pattern that is sure to be repeated – dying and rising and dying and rising through the pangs and perils of life over and over again. There seems to be no other way, even when we cry out to God along with the crucified Christ as to why the Almighty has abandoned us.
We seldom go freely into the belly of the beast. But through the unexpected, such as loss of health, the death of loved ones, unfulfilled dreams, the end of relationships or the termination of a career, we are ripe for mature and necessary transformation. Tragedies are opportunities of grace that can form us more and more into the person God intends us to be – to shed our false selves, shatter deadly pride, and embrace our true selves (the Chinese letter for “catastrophe” is the same as the one for “opportunity”).
I once presented the following scenario to a class of sophomore high school boys: “Imagine that you are attending your 20th high school reunion. Your life has been a smooth and successful ride — you graduated college with honors, you married the girl of your dreams, you landed your perfect job, you’ve received awards and recognition from the wider community. What would you look like?”
One boy raised his hand and answered, “Why, we’d look the very same as we do right now!” Yes, he would remain limited to the maturity of a high school sophomore. Stunned, I never expected such insight from a 16 year old boy.
It is human to prefer clear answers and easier methods. But the greater gift is descending without clarity, without conclusions, and some days without meaning. It hurts like hell but the pay-off can be extraordinary … all in God’s time.
This is the perilous path to spiritual maturity. Grace leads us through states of emptiness — to momentary listlessness and confusion. Only in this way may we be stripped of that within us that is false, allowing for deeper conversion and change of heart. “Metanoia,” the scriptures call it. Taking us where we may prefer not to go, dying to that which is not of God and ascending from the dust through Christ whose Paschal Mystery we share.
And like most things in life, the only way out is through.
—Timothy J. Cronin