
About a year ago, I was praying the Sorrowful Mysteries, and got to the “Crowning of the Thorns” decade. During that decade, I was hit by a ton of bricks, when I realized that my, sometimes excruciatingly painful, headaches probably still only pale in comparison to the headache Jesus had to suffer when the thorns bit into His head, and were dug further in by hands and every time He fell while carrying the cross.
Fast forward to this year, as I was attending Adoration at the one time a year it is offered at the church I am attending - Holy Thursday. As I was sitting in Adoration that evening, I was once again struck by a realization.
I hadn’t quite been focused on any specific set of prayer intentions, although I did repeatedly ask my toddler’s guardian angel to help me keep my son quiet during Adoration, so as to not “disturb” others in their prayers. I also wasn’t focused on any particular struggle I am facing in my life. Quite simply, I was praying the First Sorrowful Mystery decade, “Jesus’ Agony in the Garden,” when the thought initially struck me:
The pain I experience, and the struggles I experience, in my daily life have got to pale in comparison to the pain others are feeling in this world. They also ultimately pale to the pain Mary and Jesus suffered during Our Lord’s Passion.
I live in a country where I am not persecuted for my faith. On Holy Thursday this year, there were reports of Christians being killed in Kenya, simply because of their faith. The reports of persecution are coming all too frequently - men, women, and children being slaughtered for their faith around the world.
While I somewhat agree with the sentiments of a priest I know, who firmly believes, “the one last acceptable discrimination in this country is to discriminate against Catholicism,” I am wondering if we shouldn’t remember in our country, we are not fighting for our lives to live our faith. Instead, perhaps we should recognize that the “discrimination” we are facing is only a mere annoyance in our lives, rather than an actual act of having to defend our faith with our lives.
Growing up, oftentimes I was reminded to, “offer it up,” in reference to the pain I was experiencing. Stub a toe? Offer it up. Have a bad day? Offer it up. To me, it became a mantra of, “suck it up, and drive on.” Instead of being reminded of the purpose of “offering it up,” all I learned was there was no sense in complaining, because it wouldn’t get you sympathy! It hasn’t been until the past couple years that I have begun to really realize what the “offer it up” sentiment means - that we are offering our struggles to aid a soul in Purgatory, so that the soul can be cleansed to join in the everlasting company of Jesus in heaven.
That said, I’m not saying one can’t complain; what I am saying is that we should strive to find some perspective in our struggles. We all have struggles, and we all need a safe place to vent. Our struggles in our personal lives are very real to us - something I may consider a struggle, is not a struggle to another person; something another is struggling with, may not even occur to me to be a struggle. Which beg the following questions: to whom should I vent and complain? How should I vent and complain? Can you complain while maintaining perspective?
These questions lead me to consider venting and complaining to the proper source - instead of complaining to others, I should strive to complain less to others, and ultimately turn it to God. Not in a way that is accusatory, but instead, to offer it to Him.
I’m not saying I won’t be reaching out for help from others at times, but I think it is important to remember that God suffers with us, and God the Father and God the Son suffered for us. By virtue of Mary’s fiat, she also suffered, and continues to suffer, for us.
My complaints and struggles pale in comparison to the magnitude of Jesus’ physical, emotional, and spiritual pain and struggles as He made His way to His crucifixion. Keeping that in mind, I am going to be trying to remind myself more of Jesus’ struggle, as I face my struggles and difficulties in life. It may also help keep my struggles in perspective, since I am not dying for the sins of the world, nor am I watching my only Son die for the sins of the world.
Furthermore, I may also be reminded when I do complain, that I can face all things with God. Instead of feeling that my pain doesn’t matter, the way I felt in my youth, I can recognize that Jesus feels my pain and endures it with me, and oftentimes feels it more than the pain I am experiencing. I can face my struggles with the help of the Trinity.
I noticed since the time I had that realization about my headaches vs. Jesus’ crowning of thorns, I typically don’t complain about the frequency or enormity of my headaches anymore. If I am asked how I am doing, on a day where my behavior is a little more subdued, I will let the inquiring mind know that I have a headache. But, overall, I am less likely to offer the complaint unsolicited.
Perhaps, if I can maintain the perspective of Jesus, His pain, and His Passion, it will lead me to a more thankful heart. It is quite likely I will find myself tested even more, when I make the commitment to “complain less.” But, possibly by maintaining the perspective of the world at large and global struggles of our brothers and sisters in Christ, and maintaining the perspective of history - of Jesus‘ Passion, I may find it helps me maintain a sense of perspective that I have previously not held.