Our earthly sojourn is called the “valley of tears” for a good reason. Life is purgatorial because of the Fall. Ever since rebellion entered Man’s experience, obstacles have been weaved into the fabric of creation tainted by sin. But somehow along the way, we seemed to have acquired the assumption that life has to be convenient.
We observe this in Jeremiah, otherwise known as the Reluctant Prophet. He was not spared this expectation. Why would he want the inconvenience of prophesying and being thrown into a well? However, this attitude has become more acute because we have unwittingly signed into the habit of crass consumption. We are consumers and as such we expect convenience at every turn in life and this entitlement is extended to the realm of the spiritual life. Everyone wants it easy because God’s function is to smoothen my paths. If we survey the Gospel, Jesus was a bit like Jeremiah too. He knew that He would be facing the exodus of His life and even up to the last minute, in the Garden, still He asked if He could avoid the awaited fate in Jerusalem.
It is human to want to avoid pain and suffering but both the examples of Jeremiah and Jesus show us that as long as we have a divine destiny, a Jerusalem to set our face to, then purification is part of the pilgrimage there. The reality is that in mortal life, there will always be a purgatory. As a spiritual reality, purgatory does not begin only after we die. Instead, for many, it begins here in the valley of darkness.
The fire that Jesus brings has to be seen in this context. Even whilst breathing, one has to die to oneself. Jesus is not bringing a fire of “destruction” and mayhem. Rather, fire refers to the conversion that He invites us to and it is, by and large, is a life-long process. To understand Jesus’ impatience to set the world aflame, it may help if we were to consider how easily we waltz ourselves to hell. The descent into the netherworld is often not the result of commission but rather the consequence of omission. Think about it. Many of us are complacent who somehow think that we are good because we have not raped, robbed or rub out anyone. We fail to realise that we can go to hell not because of what we have done but because of what we have not done. As the Confiteor acknowledges: “in what I have failed to do”.
It sounds depressingly dire but in reality, it is an encouragement for each one of us to persevere and not be discouraged by the slow and painful pace of conversion. The purification that Jesus speaks of is to loosen the shackles that have weighed us down to the point of inertia. We need to move towards the light but frankly speaking it is more comfortable to remain in the dark. Thus, in the 2nd Reading, St Paul bids us turn to the cloud of witnesses. The Protestant condemnation of Catholic sacramentality is that we seemed to have over-emphasised the veneration of saints and blessed to the point of idolatry. A glaring result of this criticism is that Catholics tend to forget this massive cloud of witnesses. For fear of this Protestant critique, we fail to recognise that in heaven these saints and blessed are praying and urging us on.
These brothers and sisters in heaven—traditionally we call them the Church Triumphant—know that the purification of our thoughts, words and deeds is by far the hardest to achieve, not just personally but also socially. On the social front, Jesus mentioned division within the family because the minute you choose Him over all else, not only will you face our interior demons but you will also face a world that resists the grace of the Gospel. Sometimes from family members who do not share our enthusiasm. You may have experienced the subtle resistance where you are expected to tone down your fervour. Otherwise, you may be judged as holier than thou.
The peace promised by Jesus is not the absence of war. Instead, peace is the consequence of conversion, the fruit of our conviction and commitment to Christ. I am reminded of the massacre in 2015 of the 21 Copts in Libya. Imagine the magnitude of their fear given the awareness that ISIL terrorists routinely and mercilessly execute their captives. It is said Marie Antoinette’s hair turned white while she awaited her beheading. Yet as the swords slid their throats, all that came from their lips was simply: “Jesus, help me”.
Stepping into their shoes, perhaps we sense the conversion from panic to peace as these men surrendered their future to the Lord. Many of us will never meet such a violent death but suffice to say, any conversion that brings us closer to God requires a death of some kind. A dying to self to begin with.
The fire that changes the world does not come from the overthrow of government or structural change. It comes from our personal conversion. We become powerful not by virtue of the strength we possess or can muster. Rather we are powerful by virtue of Christ, whose Holy Spirit and fire can do a lot more than we imagine. Last week, we celebrated St John Marie Vianney. He was merely a priest from a nondescript village of Ars. Might as well be the arse of the world where the villagers believed neither God nor the Church. But he managed to convert multitudes just by sitting in the confessional. At the end of his life, it was said that at least 100K per annum would flock to Ars just to catch a glimpse of the man, to hear him preach and to have him listen to their confession.
What this indicates is that the good we desire for the world must begin with inner conversion. In itself, this is a tough journey and if we are committed to Christ, then be prepared for purgatory on earth. It helps if we recognise that life on earth is not a bed of roses, no matter how “manufactured convenience” seems to want to promise it. When we give our lives to Christ, the Cross will cast its shadow on us: prolonged sickness, unfair treatment, loss of personal fortune or untimely death. The shadow does not refer to the price of our past sins where we may have over-indulged in food or drink and partied like mad. When we are 60 and above, the chickens of our past sins will come home to roost. No that is not the Cross. When one has led a healthy and virtuous life but has to suffer innocently, that is the Cross and the purgatory which only through perseverance and trust in Jesus as the ultimate Saviour that will win us our place in heaven.
