My
friend Carl has spent most of his adult life in prison. The offenses
vary somewhat, but are the overall result of long term drug addiction
and the consequences that go with it. It's a hard life and the fact
that these consequences are self inflicted tends to add to the guilt
and the remorse that comes with it.
I
was
Carl's chaplain when he was in jail, and I knew his mother. She was
an impressive lady who stood by her son through thick and thin (and
it was mostly pretty thin) during his many years of stumbling in and
out of prison. When I met her, Carl was in his early 50's and she was
nearly 80, but what she told me has stuck with me ever since, "God
don't ever give up on nobody and no matter how old he is or how old I
get, I won't ever give up on my Carl either. He's better than this.
God knows it and so do I."
This
was
back in 2009. Carl knew his mother's health was failing and he knew
what a blessing she had been in his life as well as how much pain he
had caused her. Every birthday, holiday, and Mother's Day, Carl's mom
always told him the same thing, "The only gift I want from you
is that you get your life straightened out and live like God intends
you to." In my talks with him in jail, he would cry as he told
me how desperately he wanted to give his mother this gift and how
much he wanted his own life back. "I'm tired, Chaplain Phil,
just so tired," he would say, as the tears ran down his face and
stained the front of his orange jumpsuit.
Carl
got
out of jail on probation and I helped him get into an intensive
in-house drug treatment program that was operated by a local Baptist
Church. It was a no nonsense approach with military like
regimentation and harsh consequences for failure. Carl stumbled and
started getting high again, and quickly found himself kicked out of
the program and back out on the streets. He stole identity and used
the stolen identity to steal money to buy drugs and quickly found
himself back in jail. This time he ended up going back to prison for
five years.
Carl
and
I exchanged a few letters after he went off to prison. Then I stopped
hearing from him and we pretty much went our separate ways. Last
December as I was preparing my prison Christmas card list, I noticed
that Carl was entering the last year of his sentence and would be
eligible for parole in early 2015. I decided it was time to check in
with him, and wrote him a note inside the card that asked him to
write me back and let me know how he was doing. I got a warm and
gracious letter back from him, and we've been exchanging letters
regularly ever since.
In
this first letter from Carl, I received the sad but not totally
unexpected news that his mother had passed away. He wasn't able to go
to her funeral of course, and his grief was compounded and made more
bitter by his own repeated failings, and he found himself confronted
by who he was and what he had done with his life in a new and truly
deeper way, and on a much more profound level. In the midst of this,
he came to realize that he had hurt not only his mother, himself, and
all of those in his life on earth who loved him but, and most
importantly, he finally understood that he had hurt God as well.
"I've been a Christian and talked about how much Jesus means to
me for a long time," he wrote. "But for the first time in
my life I realized just how much my selfishness and sin were
responsible for him going to the cross -- that he was truly there
because I put him there. It's like I've known Jesus all this time,
but this is the first time I've truly encountered him.
I know what that means now and I know that I have been running away
from him for years when the truth is I can't do anything without him.
Sometimes in life we meet our destiny on the road to avoid it."
This
brings to mind the legend of Quo
Vadis. In
this story, St. Peter is fleeing the persecution of Nero in Rome when
he meets Jesus carrying His Cross and walking in the opposite
direction. Peter asks, "Domine
quo vadis?" (Lord,
where are you going?). Jesus replies, "Romam
vado iterum crucifigi" (I
am going to Rome to be crucified again). Peter is shamed by this and
through this encounter gains the courage to go back to Rome and face
his own crucifixion, being crucified upside down as he proclaims
himself unworthy to be crucified in the same position as our Lord
was. He did indeed meet his destiny on the road to avoid it.
Another
example of this is St. Paul. Though he may not have been aware that
he was on the road to Damascus to avoid the destiny Christ had in
mind for him, it would become painfully obvious in the incident in
which he would encounter our risen Lord in person. And, like Peter,
when he came to understand the truth and embrace this destiny, he
became a most powerful witness to our Christian faith, and the
greatest evangelist the Church has ever had. The power and beauty of
his words in the New Testament means that St. Paul will likely win
more converts to Christ today than the rest of us postmodern
Christians combined. And he has done this daily for the better part
of two thousand years.
Along
with the legend of Quo
Vadis is
another story that tradition has preserved for us in The
Acts of Peter and Paul.
St. Paul, who traveled to Rome so as to confront the Jews and Nero
who would have him put to death, preached Christ with such eloquence
that Nero's wife and many other high ranking Romans were so
converted. St. Peter in turn confronts and defeats the sorcerer Simon
Magus, who was favored and extolled by Nero as a god. These two
giants of the Church, her first pope and her greatest evangelist, the
former who had denied Christ and ran from his destiny, and the latter
who had persecuted the Lord's disciples unto death and so pursued a
destiny of evil, met their true destinies as men of God executed in
Rome for their witness to the faith. And so Peter was crucified
upside down and so Paul was beheaded. St.
Peter's Basilica is
built over the site of an earlier church that was built to mark the
place of Peter's death and burial. And there is the church of St.
Paul at the Three Fountains on
the site where Paul was beheaded along the Ostesian road. Because
they met their deaths together, Sts. Peter and Paul share the same Feast
Day in
the Church on the traditional day that commemorates when this
occurred, which is June 29.
If
two
such giants of the faith as Peter and Paul could meet their destiny
on the road to avoid it, that puts Carl and the rest of us in some
pretty good company. And what they did was exactly what we all need
to do: they put their own free will in tune with the will of God.
They followed the example of Gethsemane and based their lives and
deaths upon the prayer "...not my will but yours be done."
God
gives us free will to wander about the world in sin and does so that
we may choose, of our own accord, to give this free will back to Him
and make it His again so that He may save us. Jesus was not forced to
go to the Cross. He chose to do so by making His will that of the
Father. In fact, given the cruelty, pain and horror of His Passion,
it is easy to see why He would also pray, "Take this cup from
me." That Jesus would give His life over to the suffering and
death of the Cross knowing full well what was coming means that we
should be deeply humbled in knowing that God expects us to give Him
our free will so that He might bless us with eternal life. The cross
He gives each of us to bear is nothing compared to the Cross He took
up for us so that we might have this privilege of following Him into
eternity. This is what Jesus meant when He said to us that His yoke
is easy and His burden is light. He has taken the burden of the sins
of the world upon Himself, and in turn burdens us with only so much
as we need so as to know what it is that God has done for us.
Our
burden becomes unbearable only when we take these same sins of the
world upon our own shoulders and find that this is a cross we cannot
carry. We are crushed by its weight and at the moment we can go no
further, Jesus comes to us as Simon of Cyrene was sent to Him, and He
takes the burden of the cross of our sins upon Himself. And not only
does He carry it for us, He has Himself hung upon it in our place.
This is why each of us must come to know his own self as that
disciple whom Jesus loves, and follow Him to the Cross so as to
experience what He has done for us. It is not His Cross
that He hangs upon at Calvary: it is ours.
Blessed
are we when, like Sts. Peter and Paul, we head down the road of our
own self chosen destiny in the opposite direction of where God would
have us go and, in this process, we encounter the risen Jesus Who
redirects our lives. How blessed are we when like Paul, Jesus knocks
us from our high horse and blinds us to the world so that He may open
our eyes to the sin within us that destroys us. How blessed are we
when like Peter, we encounter Jesus as we run from that which God
would have us do and we find Him again carrying our cross so as to
once again be crucified in our place.
In
John 8:21 Jesus says to His disciples, "I
go away, and you will seek me and die in your sin; where I am going,
you cannot come." Ironically, it is when we encounter the risen
Christ on that road that leads away from Him that He exposes our sins
to us and removes this restriction contingent upon our repentance.
And when it is removed, we find ourselves invited to come and follow
Him to that place where He is going, and in which we will live with
Him forever.
As
Catholic Christians in
a world that has come to embrace a new paganism that rivals that of
Nero's Rome, and proves this by persecuting Christians at a pace that
ancient Rome would envy, it is tempting to turn and run from our
responsibilities to proclaim the gospel of life, religious liberty,
and God's plan of salvation in Jesus Christ. In the face of such
growing and intensifying persecution, and on the road to avoid our
destiny, we so encounter our Lord and ask: "Domine
Quo Vadis?" (Lord,
where are you going?). His response to us is as it was to Peter,
"Romam vado
iterum crucifigi" (I
am going to Rome to be crucified again). And we would do well to
accept His invitation in Matthew 16:24, "Et
tollat crucem suam et sequatur me" (Take
up your cross and follow me).
And
as
the person of St. Peter always prophetically represents the papacy
descended from him, the hierarchy of the Church must also consider
the dangers of downplaying the evil of sin in our world, and
practicing a politics of appeasement in such a way as to shrug and
say, "Who am I to judge?" To deny the role of moral
arbiter, and to cease to proclaim Christ as the sole source of the
salvation of the world and all her people, is to desert the Church's
responsibility to the world, and those who do this must expect to
encounter the Lord Himself, reinserting Himself in history and
rectifying this in person. And Revelation tells us this is anything
but a journey to Rome to be crucified again.
Carl
is
right: "Sometimes in life we meet our destiny on the road to
avoid it." And when we look at the world around us, we realize
that Carl's mother was right also. Like Carl, we're better than this.
And God knows it. And the only gift He wants from us is to get our
lives straightened out and live as He intends us to.
All
Biblical quotes from The Catholic Edition of the Revised Standard
Version of the Bible, copyright 1965, 1966 by the Division of
Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ
in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights
reserved.
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