Auschwitz survivor and author, Corrie Ten Boom once said the following:
“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.”
When we find ourselves in a place of despair it’s hard to see any purpose behind it, or if any good can be brought out of it. When we are being suffocated by darkness it’s extremely difficult to think of the light, just as someone drowning finds it difficult to pull air into her lungs.
My Brush with Death
In 2009, for the first time in my life I swam in the ocean at Copacabana Beach in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I made the mistake of carelessly going deeper into the water where the waves were bigger and more unpredictable. Without warning, a giant wave swept me off my feet and dragged me under the water. As soon as I poked my head above the water, another wave came and once more dragged me under.
I remember with great clarity, feeling as if my lungs were deflated in my chest and seeing the beach get smaller and smaller with no one noticing me. The next things I remember is being disoriented under water and thinking “I’m actually going to die.” For me, up to this point, death was always something that happened to others, but never thought of it sneaking up on me. It’s so weird. Within this short moment of drowning, I had an entire philosophical dissertation about the death in my head. Even under water, my head was still in the clouds.
After a point, I gave up trying to gasp for air and accepted that this may be it.
Just as I was loosing conciseness, I felt someone grab my wrist and drag me out onto the beach, where I laid exhausted, occasionally coughing up sand and water.
Seeing God in the Middle of Despair
When we are surrounded by despair, it’s hard to see any light at the end of the tunnel. As Jesus hung on the cross, even he said, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me” (Matthew 27:46). Jesus was crying out the words of Psalm 22, which was likely written at a time when the Jewish people were in exile in Babylon (modern day Iraq).
In this past Sunday’s gospel, St. John presents us with the famous account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Upon hearing about Lazarus’ death Jesus remains strangely calm, as his apostles, along with Lazarus’ sisters – Mary and Martha – complain to Jesus of why he didn’t save Lazarus when he was ill. When Martha saw Jesus she cried, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…” At the site of Lazarus’ tomb, Mary repeats Martha’s complaint: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
This isn’t the first time people complained to Jesus about not caring. Earlier in Christ’s ministry, he and the apostles found themselves in the middle of a raging storm on the Sea of Galilea. As the apostles are freaking out, Jesus is sound asleep. The apostles cry out, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mark 4:38).
I don’t know about you, but I have certainly found myself in situations where I silently cried out, “Jesus do you not care!?” or “Jesus, if only you did this…..or did that, then….!”
This of course this is a natural response. Complaining to God or even expressing anger towards him, can be good because it is a form of prayer (Majority of the 150 psalms are prayers of complaint). However, we should not stop there.
Becoming More Like Jesus
In Catholic theology there’s a fancy term called deification. Deification refers to the process of becoming more like God (not to be mistaken for becoming a god) as he revealed himself in the second person of the Holy Trinity, Jesus Christ. The more we strive to become like Jesus, the more we start seeing the events of this world, through God’s eyes.
On his way to see Lazarus, Jesus says, “Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of the world. But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them” (John 11:9).
The more open we become to receiving Christ’s Holy Spirit the more we are able to see with clarity in the midst of the darkness of our lives.
Of course, this does not happen over night. It really takes wrestling with our inner selves and with God.
In Conclusion
Let me conclude with a brief personal experience.
A couple of weeks ago, I was driving home on Rutherford Ave towards Vaughn. It was just as the story of the coronavirus was breaking, so I started to think about dying. You may think this is grim, but stay with me. To be clear, I have no desire to die, I love my family and I enjoy life, even with its challenges.
“What if I were to get the virus and I ended up on my death bed?” At first I was consumed by fear, even at the thought of laying on a hospital bed. But as I prayed for wisdom, Scripture passages relating to hope, perseverance and God’s love came to mind. In addition, I started to recall the lives saints whom I have read about. By the time I arrived at home I had a sense of peace and came to this conclusion:
If God wants to call me home, he will give me the grace to accept death and will provide for my family. If I continue to live a long life, He is not done with me yet. Either way, there’s “light” at the end of the tunnel. No need to “jump off the train.”
To see with Christ’s eyes is to see this life in the light of eternity. Life in this world is good and can have many challenges. However, this life is but a brief moment before eternity. We’re just warming up on the sidelines before running onto the field.
Let Us Pray
Our Lord, Jesus. We thank you for our lives in a time such as this. We know you created us to play a part in bringing a hope to a world in despair. Give us the grace to slowly start seeing this world through your eyes and not be overburdened by the worries of the world. We make this prayer in the name of Jesus. Amen.
