The great value of suffering

IT just doesn’t make sense at first glance. Why would Christ tell us to deny ourselves and pick up a cross just to follow Him. (cfr. Mt 16,24) What’s so appealing about suffering that He’d ask us to embrace it? What hidden treasure is there in suffering that should draw our hearts to it instead of away from it? 

 We, of course, now know that suffering stems from our separation from God, who is our true source of joy and life. Because we often choose to act as if we are own “gods,” we bring about our own spiritual distance from him and as a consequence we suffer. 

 To make sense of this, let’s look at the bigger picture. We need to look back to the time of our creation and then forward to Christ’s redemptive mission. In the beginning, suffering was entirely absent from God’s plan. Our first parents existed in a state of original justice. They possessed profound gifts, including immortality, impassibility (the inability to experience physical or emotional pain), and perfect integrity. 

 They lived in absolute harmony with themselves, the world and their Creator. However, all of this was lost when they succumbed to the temptation of disobedience. Seduced by the father of lies, they attempted to assert their own will over God’s, thereby separating themselves from the divine source of life. 

 This rupture severed our intimate connection with the ultimate fountain of all good things, inevitably leading us into a reality marked by pain, sin, and physical decay. Yet despite this catastrophic betrayal, God’s overwhelming love for us never wavered. Yes, there was a period of anger, but His great love for us is so profound that He sent His Son to rescue us. His mercy always has the last word. 

 Because our sinfulness inherently leads us to suffering and death, the Son of God had to become man to address the root of the problem. As St. Paul explained, Christ emptied Himself to share in our humanity, ultimately enduring the agony and humiliation of death on the cross. Christ went to the extent of becoming like sin, without committing sin, if only to identify himself with us and offer us “the way, the truth and the life.” 

 Through His passion and death, Christ paid the ransom for our redemption. But He did much more. He radically transformed the meaning of suffering and death. What was once a tragic consequence of our separation from God has been converted by Christ into a powerful means of our salvation. 

 Christ provided the ultimate paradigm for how we can overcome our fundamental flaw of self-reliance. Our suffering, as long as it is united to the suffering of Christ, can now acquire a great redemptive value. 

 And so, we should not be too concerned about suffering in whatever form it comes to us. We should just learn how to unite our unavoidable sufferings with the suffering of Christ. That way, our sufferings become a necessary mechanism for our healing and reconciliation. 

 Bluntly said, when we embrace our hardships and unite them with Christ’s suffering, our pain can now act as the very cure that draws us back into communion with the Creator. 

 Consequently, we must readjust our perception of pain. Instead of viewing suffering as purely senseless, we should see it as a sacred invitation to “deny ourselves,” to empty ourselves so we can be filled with the spirit of God. 

 Consequently, we must readjust our perception of pain. Instead of viewing suffering as purely senseless, we should see it as an opportunity to empty ourselves so we can be transformed into “another Christ.”

How to develop effective vigilance

THE parable of the ten virgins (cfr. Mt 25,1-13) reminds us of our need to develop an effective way of being always vigilant. This, of course, is only possible if we develop a deep, active union with God. Without his grace, we are would be easily overwhelmed by the modern-day assaults of evil, obsessions, and hidden bondages. We have a lot of sweet poisons around. 

 Safeguarding our souls demands a comprehensive, grounded approach that blends both supernatural faith and practical and human discipline. Because God can call us at any moment, and hidden evils continually hound us, readiness is an absolute necessity. 

 In fact, the ideal and realistic attitude to have is to think that everyday we can die and should be ready to face God in judgment. This is not to have a dark view of life. Rather, it would help us keep the proper priorities in life and lead a confident lifestyle. It would help us lead a life that knows what the ultimate destination is. 

 Today, we cannot deny that we are seeing a disturbing rise in personal obsessions, compulsive dependencies and all kinds of hidden bondages. And many of us feel utterly helpless, find that human willpower alone cannot stop them from giving in to these destructive habits and manias. 

 The only effective way to breaking these chains and achieving our spiritual victory lies in our true union with Christ. As St. Paul assures us, when we suffer and die with Christ, we will also rise with him. (Rom 6,8-11) 

 United with Christ, we can endure evil’s unavoidable attacks and find the peace and confidence needed to properly navigate the heavy dramas of this world. Effectively maintaining this union with Christ requires balancing both the supernatural and human means.

 The supernatural means involve constant prayer, an abiding awareness of God’s presence and solicitous interventions in our life, and frequent reception of the sacraments—particularly Confession and the Holy Eucharist. These spiritual practices must be continually developed because God’s grace is the ultimate foundation for overcoming our deepest predicaments. 

 However, we must never neglect the practical human means. We must keep ourselves consistently occupied, since an idle mind and a lazy body are the easiest targets for the agents of evil. These conditions give the enemies of our soul a foothold, an opening for them to dominate us. 

 We know that spiritual laziness opens the door to a threefold enemy of ours: the weakness of our own flesh, worldly temptations, and the direct influence of the devil. We should be constantly guarded against them. 

 St. Augustine, for one, emphasized that spiritual vigilance is an essential defense against our daily trials and temptations. In his sermons, he frequently referenced the command to “watch and pray” so as not to fall into temptation. He reasoned that since we sin daily and seek daily forgiveness, we must remain constantly vigilant, actively petitioning God to guard our hearts. 

 Yes, we should be humble enough to realize that we need to beg God for his help. We have to accept that we are simply helpless and defenseless if we would just rely on our own human powers. 

 As St. Augustine once said, staying awake and vigilant spiritually is not about physical sleeplessness or constant talking. It is an uninterrupted longing of the heart for God. We should keep that longing alive.

Keeping a state of constant vigilance in our lives

THIS is the lesson hidden in Christ’s command to his disciples: “Watch therefore, because you do not know what hour your Lord will come.” (cf. Mt 24:42-51) It is one of those simple sayings that become more mysterious the longer one reflects upon them. We sleep not because night has conquered us, but because we have forgotten that dawn is always approaching. 

 Watchfulness is not reserved for days of sorrow or moments of extraordinary danger. It is just as necessary when fortune smiles and life seems comfortably ordinary. The battle for the soul never declares a truce. Only the careless imagine that peace means the war has ended. 

 Our nearest enemy is not far away at all. It is ourselves. We carry within us a strange contradiction: we desire goodness and yet repeatedly bargain with lesser things. The heart that longs for heaven can still be distracted by the nearest comfort, postponing virtue until tomorrow, as though eternity kept office hours. 

 Beyond ourselves stands the world, dazzling precisely because it mistakes glitter for glory. It offers pleasures that promise freedom while quietly forging chains. Modern inventions have multiplied conveniences beyond counting, but they have also multiplied distractions, making temptation travel at the speed of light while wisdom often continues its patient walk. 

 Nor should we dismiss the oldest enemy as an outdated superstition. Evil is most dangerous when it persuades us that it has retired. The devil does not usually arrive carrying horns but excuses. Being a spirit, he often understands our weaknesses better than we do, and he delights in turning our strengths into traps. 

 How then should we remain awake? Curiously enough, prosperity demands as much vigilance as adversity. When blessings abound, gratitude must grow even faster. Otherwise, comfort becomes conceit, abundance becomes forgetfulness, and gifts quietly replace the Giver in the affections of the heart. 

 Hardship, on the other hand, possesses a surprising privilege. Pain strips away illusions that comfort carefully preserves. If we immediately turn toward God instead of away from him, suffering becomes not merely something to endure but something through which grace quietly performs its astonishing work. The Cross remains the great paradox: defeat transformed into victory. 

 Such a vision saves us from bitterness. The Christian may suffer, but he need not despair. Hope is not the denial of pain; it is the refusal to grant pain the final word. The darkest valley is still crossed beneath the same heaven. 

 Then there are the ordinary days, which are perhaps the greatest test of all. Heroism is easier for an hour than fidelity for a lifetime. Routine can become either the workshop of holiness or the waiting room of mediocrity. The difference lies in whether love is deliberately renewed. 

 To remain spiritually alert, we must demand something of ourselves every day. Charity grows by exercise, not by accident. We keep its flame alive by remembering Christ’s sacrifice, noticing our neighbor’s needs, and performing ordinary duties with extraordinary love. Great saints are often those who refused to waste small moments. 

 Scripture never tires of repeating this lesson. St. Paul urges us to stand firm in faith, be courageous, and let everything be done in love. Christ himself adds the indispensable secret: “Watch and pray.” He knew that the spirit is willing while the flesh remains unreliable. 

 Spiritual watchfulness, therefore, is not an emotion but a discipline. It grows through prayer, frequent examination of conscience, careful reading of the signs of the times, and an honest evaluation of our daily choices. Only then do we remain truly awake—not merely with open eyes, but with a heart ready whenever the Master knocks.