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Responding to Suffering

While Jesus was speaking, an official came forward, knelt down before him, and said, “My daughter has just died. But come, lay your hand on her, and she will live.” Jesus rose and followed him, and so did his disciples. A woman suffering hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him and touched the tassel on his cloak. She said to herself, “If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured.” Matthew 9:18–21

Call to mind one of the most painful and difficult moments in your life. Perhaps you endured a serious illness or the illness of a loved one. Perhaps you suffered a deep humiliation or walked with someone close to you through his or her humiliation. Maybe you lost a job, faced mounting bills, and felt helpless. Suffering comes in many forms, and God only permits such trials because, in His wisdom, He perceives a greater good that can come through our patient endurance—if we place all our hope and trust in Him.

In today’s Gospel, we meet two unrelated individuals, each burdened with intense suffering. First, a father kneels before Jesus and sorrowfully announces that his daughter has just died. In a remarkable act of faith, he pleads with Jesus to come and lay His hand on her, confident that she will live again. As Jesus proceeds with him, a woman who has suffered silently for twelve years from a hemorrhage approaches from behind and touches the tassel of His cloak, believing that even such a simple act will bring her healing.

The sudden death of a beloved daughter and twelve years of physical and emotional anguish are heavy crosses. Though our own trials may differ, we are invited to see ourselves in both of these suffering souls, especially during times of great hardship.

The grieving father likely also felt powerlessness. He who had lovingly provided for his daughter from birth—feeding her, protecting her, guiding her—now stands helpless before death, a force he cannot overcome. Or so it seems.

The woman with hemorrhages suffered both the physical toll of her affliction and also the social and spiritual isolation imposed by the Mosaic Law. According to Levitical law, her continual bleeding rendered her ritually unclean and cut her off from public worship and communal life. Because her bleeding was constant, so too was her separation—a painful, unending exile. There was nothing she could do to fix her condition. Or was there?

In the face of suffering, each of us must choose: Either we turn to God in radical faith and surrender, or we fall into despair, resentment, and rebellion. Suffering rarely leaves us indifferent—it either purifies or hardens the heart. That is why every trial poses a question to us: Will I respond in faith or retreat into bitterness?

Both of these suffering souls refused to surrender to despair. Instead, they turned to Jesus with bold and humble faith—one publicly kneeling, the other quietly reaching out. In both cases, their trust was met with Divine Mercy.

What the Mosaic Law deemed unclean, Jesus welcomed and restored. He is not defiled by the woman’s touch—He makes her clean. In this, Christ reveals that He is the fulfillment of the Law, the source of every true healing, especially the healing that comes through the Sacraments. In the Eucharist, Reconciliation, and Anointing of the Sick, we too may “touch His garment,” and receive the grace that restores what is broken.

Reflect today on the consoling truth that no suffering is too deep, no exile too long, no loss too final for Christ. Whether your wounds are fresh or old, whether you can cry out or can only whisper a prayer in silence, reach for Him. Kneel before Him. Touch the hem of His garment in faith through prayer, the Sacraments, and trustful surrender. He will not turn away. He sees your pain, and if you let Him, He will enter into it, speak words of courage, and raise you up.

My empathetic Lord, You see the sufferings of Your people, and Your Heart is moved with compassion for us. When trials arise in my life, help me to see them as gifts—opportunities to step out of my indifference and trust wholeheartedly in You. I believe that You will never permit me to endure anything for which Your grace is not sufficient. Jesus, I do trust in You.

Image: Around the tea-table, by Thomas De Witt)

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