Dig Deep into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Mark 8:27–35
Every Sunday after Mass, my husband and I join my parents for breakfast at a Connecticut diner—the restaurant known for its giant cow on the roof. It's not our style of decor, but boy, do we love the eggs and coffee! But mostly, we love our waitress.
She’s the kind of server who knows your order. Efficient, attentive, and friendly, she appears genuinely happy to see us when we walk through the door. A few weeks ago, she shared, “People always ask me why I am so joyful. I tell them it’s because I’m grateful.” She paused. “I’ve been through a lot.”
All these years of refilling our coffee, debating shredded potatoes or home fries, and sharing stories about who knows what, I would never have imagined what our waitress had endured as a little girl because, honestly?...it is unimaginable. And it’s like that with people, right? We think we know them, we size them up, and through bits and pieces we think we’ve got the whole story, but we don’t know anything. Not the real stuff, at least. Not the stuff that makes us who we are—the kind of stuff that causes us to walk away from Jesus or run straight to Him. And our waitress? She ran straight to Him. “I know why God allowed the suffering,” she said. And with a finger pointing upwards, “It was to get closer to Him.”
I’m always amazed when I encounter someone who gets the meaning of suffering, especially when their own bad choices weren’t the cause. Even Peter, who makes the most extraordinary declaration of who Jesus is in our gospel in one minute, wants to divert Jesus from the road to the cross in the next (Mark 8:29,32). He doesn’t understand that suffering not only has meaning, but it is necessary. And Jesus’ response? He rebukes Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan! You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” (Mark 8:33). Poor Peter. I can relate to his fearful and impulsive reaction. If I had a dime for every time I tried to shield my loved ones from their cross, I could buy the cow on the diner's roof! Heck, I could buy the whole darn diner! But still, it makes you wonder…why so harsh, Jesus?
The answer? Because our life depends on His cross.
Are you afraid of suffering?
Is there someone you are trying to shield from pain and disappointment?
Are you arranging your things and plans in such a way that you have placed trust in yourself over God?
Are you determined to keep yourself and everyone around you comfortable by discovering the remedy to bearing the cross?
I used to try to escape suffering. For years, I thought I could outsmart God and take the safer road. I thought I was doing the right thing by doing what no human being in the world has ever done—obtain the kingdom of God by fleeing the cross.[1] This strategy worked until it didn’t. Eventually, the choice was clear: carry my cross gladly to the end, where there will be no more suffering and endless peace, or continue to grudgingly drag it behind me, making it a heavier burden than the Lord intended, risking my shot at salvation. When I finally surrendered, resolving to be an all-in disciple of Christ, not only following Him to the good wine at Cana but to the blood wine He shed for me on the wood of the cross, “heavenly sweetness” poured into my soul and spiritual joy flooded me.[2]
Are you wondering how one gets to the point of willingly taking up the cross?
Does your tendency to doubt there is a purpose in the pain keep you stuck in the “why?”
I hesitate to give you my answers, because God is not a one-size-fits-all God. Here is what I know is true: His love for us is personal and intimate.
When Jesus asks His disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” (Mark 8:29), that question is meant for us. If we spend time in His Word, inviting the Holy Spirit to take up residency in our hearts, minds, and souls, learning His promises, and not just learning but claiming them, we will echo Peter and respond: “You are the Messiah” (Mark 8:29). But if reading Scripture is not part of our daily routine, we risk not knowing the “Who.” We risk God being to us who the world says He is: the world that has no idea, the world that cannot comprehend the meaning of suffering, the world that keeps us stuck in the “why.”
I will share three simple things I do daily to help me be on the side of God and not of men (Mark 8:33).
As I flirted with “why” recently, I heard in the ear of my heart: He prevents more than He permits. And I wept for joy because one day we will see clearly. The veil will be lifted, and we will see as clear as the cow on the roof: not only the glory of heaven our crosses have merited, but the surrounding dangers we could not see and were lovingly spared.
“Why are you afraid to take up your cross, since it is the only way to the kingdom of heaven?” writes Thomas à Kempis. “In the cross is the height of virtue and the perfection of sanctity. Without the cross there is no salvation for our souls, nor hope of life eternal. Take your cross, then, and follow Jesus, and you will go into everlasting life.”[3]
Food for thought or journaling...
When you struggle to believe your suffering has meaning, spend time meditating on Christ’s suffering. Read Scripture daily and saturate your mind with the truth of what He has done for you and how much He loves you.
Blessed is the man who endures trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life which God has promised to those who love him (James 1:12). Amen.
P.S. If you are new to Scripture, I highly recommend the Bible study Opening Your Heart—especially Lesson 15: What is the Role of Suffering in My Life. If you’re looking for a deeper challenge, grab a copy of Fearless and Free. Both studies ministered to my heart when I was in deep suffering.
[1] Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ (Catholic Book Publishing Corp., 1993), 93.
[2] Ibid, 92.
[3] Ibid, 90.
