Journey thru John, Chapter 16: On Tribulation and Joy

As with the last two chapters, Jesus is once again in full teaching mode.  We remain in the time between the last supper and the Passion as Jesus continues to give final instructions to his disciples.

In chapter fifteen, Jesus gave me an image of a grape vine to focus on during my contemplation.  In chapter sixteen, He gives another powerful image that allows me to do the same.  In our modern world, many of us, both female and male, have personal experience with the birth of a child.  If that includes you, take some time to go back and relive that moment from your personal history.  Then take your memories and use them to help you contemplate this chapter, focusing on the juxtaposition between tribulation and joy not just in the image that Jesus presents, but in the overall context of this chapter and the previous one.   

I have three children and I was present for the birth of each one.  Each experience was unique, but the effort required of my wife is a constant theme for all three.  I can’t claim to have experienced the pain she did, nor did I have to endure her anguish (to use the same word as Jesus), but I am grateful to have been at her side throughout.  Even though I was spared the physical hardship and exhaustion, I can at least recall that experience and empathize to some extent with the wonder and joy that a mother feels when “a child is born into the world.”

I know even as the bystanding dad that no other experience in my life quite equates to that one.

Jesus’ reference to the “world” in this little vignette is fascinating.  The reflection from chapter seven focused entirely on the definition of the word “world.”  The “world” as understood there is generally antagonistic to Jesus.  If you were to go back and review all the chapters from seven until now, you would find that this definition holds steady.  When the word “world” is used in the text, it generally signals something opposed to the message of Jesus.

If you don’t believe me, just go back to verses 18 and 19 from the last chapter.

“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.  If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own.  As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world.  That is why the world hates you.”

Yet, in the vignette, Jesus uses the image of a “child being born into the world” as an entirely positive teaching tool.  A mother’s pain and anguish is changed to joy despite the hardship of childbirth.  In the same way, the disciple’s pain and anguish at the coming events will also be changed to joy despite the hostility of the world. 

Every child is meant to become a disciple of Jesus.  Those who succeed will do so in the context of a world that does everything it can to prevent their success.  When they reject the world in favor of Jesus, they will unavoidably be subject to the same forms of pain and anguish that the disciples are about to experience. 

One might think this would temper the joy a mother experiences at the birth of her child.  But when I think back on my own experience, there was only hope and joy in the delivery room.  As parents, we were not thinking about the hardships that would inevitably come into the life of this new creation.  Despite those inevitabilities, the birth of our child into this world was not a cause for concern and fear, but instead, unmitigated joy.

It is clear that Jesus understands that joy to be pure.  (In Franciscan terms, this joy is true and perfect.)  Otherwise, it would not be suitable as the basis of His reassurances to His disciples.  The fact that the child will have to face the trials, tribulations and temptations of the world does not dilute or inhibit this unadulterated joy.  The mother’s joy, despite the inevitable hardships of her child’s life, is justified and honest and good.  If the disciples can live into this teaching of Jesus, the joy they will experience will likewise be true and perfect despite the hardships they are about to endure.

What does this teach me about the nature, necessity and value of tribulation?  

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John Chapter 16, verse 33:

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

This is the last verse of the chapter.  The opposition of the world to Jesus is once again reinforced.  The world brings tribulation.  In verse two of the chapter, Jesus goes so far as to say that the world will kill us while believing it is offering a service to God via our deaths.  Some of the disciples will soon experience this first hand.

As is referenced above, the theme Jesus summarizes using the metaphor of the birth of a child actually goes back to the middle of the last chapter.  If you have not done so already, go back and read from verse 18 of chapter fifteen through to the end of chapter sixteen as a single unit in order to understand the continuity.  Starting at verse 18, Jesus begins to directly anticipate the Passion.  His teaching about the world, about tribulation and about joy is meant to help the disciples cope with coming events.  This includes not just the Passion, but also the tribulations, difficulties and persecutions that will come after His Resurrection and Ascension.

In fact, those persecutions are a constant throughout post Ascension history.  They never stop, forming one unbroken line from the Romans feeding Christians to the lions straight through to the present day, where ISIS fulfills the words of Jesus from verse two by martyring Christians for their faith.  Even in the US, the reward for being a Christian is often a label of intolerance, as we are expected to embrace and approve alternate lifestyles even if we believe them to be based in sin.

The same thing was true in the time of Francis.  The order was regularly subject to persecutions.  In chapter five of The Anonymous of Perugia, the treatment of the brothers is described like this:

Although the brothers wore the poorest and cheapest clothes, for amusement many people still took these away from them…………People threw mud at the heads of some of the brothers; to others, they shoved dice in their hands, inviting them to play.  One brother was carried by the capuche across someone’s back, for as long as he pleased.  These things, as well as many others, were inflicted on them.  But we will not go on about these things, for it would unduly prolong our words.  In a word, people considered them despicable; that is why they nonchalantly and brazenly persecuted them as if they were criminals.  In addition, they endured a great deal of hardship and suffering from hunger and thirst, from cold and nakedness.

Clearly, the Franciscan movement was not immune to the tribulations of the world.

The unique thing about the Franciscan charism, and for me, one of the hardest things to grasp and embrace, is the view that these tribulations are not a negative experience.  In fact, they are to be welcomed and even hoped for.  There is nothing in our modern culture that prepares me to accept that point of view.  Tribulation, for me, is always something to be avoided.     

The above passage from chapter five of the Anonymous of Perugia goes on like this:

They suffered all these things with constancy and patience, as blessed Francis had counseled them.  They did not become dejected or distressed, but exalted and rejoiced at their misfortune like men placed at great advantage.  They fervently prayed for their persecutors.  When people saw them rejoicing in their tribulations and enduring them patiently for the Lord, unceasing in very devout prayer, ……….many of them, by the kindness of the Lord, experienced a change of heart.  They came to them, begging forgiveness for their offenses against them.

The phrase that I struggle with is explicit here.  How, exactly, does one “rejoice in his tribulations?”  It’s something that I have never been taught to do.  At best, I learned something in the vein of “anything that does not kill me makes me stronger.”  But that is not the same as what is being suggested here.  In that, the tribulation is still to be avoided if possible.  It is to be endured, not embraced.

Of course, in true Francis style, his counsel is backed up by his own personal example.  In chapter seven of the first book of The Life of St. Francis by Thomas Celano, we get this short story:

He who once enjoyed wearing scarlet robes now traveled about half clothed.  Once while he was singing the praises to the Lord in French in a certain forest, thieves suddenly attacked him.  When they savagely demanded who he was, the man of God answered confidently and forcefully, “I am the herald of the Great King!  What is it to you?”  They beat him and threw him in a ditch filled with deep snow, saying:  “Lie there, you stupid herald of God!”  After they left, he rolled about to and fro, shook the snow off himself and jumped out of the ditch.  Exhilarated with great joy, he began in a loud voice to make the woods resound with the praises to the Creator of all.

My tribulations almost always have the opposite effect on me.  They drag me down.  They make me sorrowful.  They even make me depressed at times, draining energy from me and making me lethargic and unresponsive to the call of God.  I simply do not know how to live out this example from St. Francis.

And honestly, who can claim that they would respond to the same situation in the same way?  If you were beaten by thieves and thrown in a snow filled ditch, would you react by making snow angels in the snow, which is what we might as well assume Francis is doing as he rolls about to and fro?  Would you be “exhilarated with great joy,” and then would you begin to sing the praises of Creation to the woods around you?

I don’t do such things when I am in a good mood.  I can’t imagine doing them after being beaten by thieves.

Yet, as a Franciscan, this is what I am called to.  How will I ever achieve this?

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A list of the persecutions and tribulations of Francis and his followers could quickly get unwieldy.  We would have to talk about the pain inflicted upon him by his father, about rejection at the hands of the people of Assisi, etc., etc.  As the first passage suggests, there is not room to “go on about these things” in a short reflection such as this. 

And to focus on them would be to miss the point. It is already clear that Francis’ attitude towards these tribulations is different than what would be expected.  The clear question is, why does Francis react differently?  What did Francis know that places him so far from the norm for the rest of us? 

In the gospel passage, Jesus tells us to take heart because He has overcome the world.  Somehow, He personally embodies a negation of the tribulations of the world.  Is that the starting point for understanding the perspective of Francis?  Did Francis perhaps take this passage, or another one similar to it, and apply it to his life in a way that led to his extraordinary reaction to the persecutions he experienced in the world?

The SFO Rule, in paragraph 10, says this:

Let them also follow the poor and crucified Christ, witness to him even in difficulties and persecutions.

The commentary from Hidden Power III: From Gospel to Life on this sentence reads like this:

Simple living begins with the choice to unite with Christ so intensely that one is willing to share even His Passion:  ………

Both passages make a clear connection between our own hardships and the Passion of Jesus.  His persecution, which culminates in His embrace of the Cross, must inform how we accept and deal with our own adversity.  The rule is suggesting that the answers to the above questions are yes, Francis did have a unique understanding.  By linking the crucified Christ to our difficulties and persecutions in the same sentence, the Rule locates that unique understanding in the mystery of the victory of the Cross. 

Understand that Jesus is timeless.  When He says in the gospel passage that He has overcome the world, He is actually talking about His Resurrection, which for Him is an assured future, which allows Him to speak about it as if it has already happened. 

Jesus suffers His own tribulation on the way to the Cross.  His arrest.  Being abused by the Pharisee’s guards.  Being flogged.  The crown of thorns.  The burden of carrying the cross.  And ultimately being nailed to the cross.  These tribulations are an essential part of the story.  They were horrific, but necessary to His ability to declare victory over the world in this gospel passage.  If the world did not culminate its opposition to Him by inflicting these tribulations on Him, then His declaration of overcoming the world would lose meaning.

Why then, in our own lives, would we expect to go from now until the day of our deaths without tribulations of our own?  If Jesus had to suffer, then why not us?  And if Jesus’ tribulations were essential to His story, then perhaps our tribulations will also be essential to ours?

We know that Francis sought above all else to emulate the example of Jesus as found in the gospels.  That’s relatively easy when the cost is low.  But when the cost involves embracing are own difficulties and persecutions, it becomes less attractive.  But even so, a life without the opportunity to emulate the tribulations of Jesus would have to be an incomplete life.  Without our own versions of the Cross, our ability to follow Jesus completely would necessarily be compromised. 

The conclusion has to be that we need tribulation in our life.  It is an essential part of who we are and how we are to become what we are supposed to become.  Without it, Jesus in His most important details, the details of His triumph on the Cross, the details of His overcoming the world, would be unknowable to us.

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There are many things that are exceptional about Francis, but perhaps the most exceptional is that he was not afraid of this conclusion.  His devotion to emulating Jesus was so strong that he not only decided to accept difficulty, he actually longed for it.  He wanted to follow Jesus as exactly and as precisely as he could, and he knew that his own personal tribulations were integral and necessary to his success.

This understanding and desire culminates in Francis’ definition of “what true joy is.” I have already used the words from the Little Flowers of St. Francis in regard to this a couple times, but that is not the only place this definition occurs.  It is also present in the Undated Writings directly attributed to Francis under the title “True and Perfect Joy.”  Brother Leo asks, “Then what is true joy?”  Francis responds as follows:

“I return from Perugia and arrive here in the dead of night.  Its winter time, muddy, and so cold that icicles have formed on the edges of my habit and keep striking my legs and blood flows from such wounds.  Freezing, covered with mud and ice, I come to the gate and, after I’ve knocked and called for some time, a brother comes and asks:  ‘Who are you?’  ‘Brother Francis,’ I answer.  ‘Go away!’ he says.  ‘This is not a decent hour to be wandering about!  You may not come in!’  When I insist, he replies: ‘Go away!  You are simple and stupid!  Don’t come back to us again!  There are many of us here like you – we don’t need you!’  I stand again at the door and say:  ‘For the love of God, take me in tonight!’  And he replies:  ‘I will not!  Go to the Crosiers place and ask there!’ 

I tell you this:  If I had patience and did not become upset, true joy, as well as true virtue and the salvation of my soul, would consist in this.”

Again, the reaction of Francis makes no sense on the surface.  If it were me or most any other man, I would be furious with the brother for not helping me in my time of need.  And yet Francis is ignoring the actions of the brother, not judging them one way or the other.  They are irrelevant to Francis because his focus is elsewhere. 

What, then, is Francis focused on?  What understanding of his own is he using to evaluate this situation?

The answer is that he is evaluating his situation within the context of the Cross.  Francis recognizes that he is undergoing some difficulty and perhaps even some persecution.  But instead of being angry with his antagonist, his focus on Jesus and the Cross gives him an entirely unanticipated perspective.  He sees the tribulation not so much as a hardship but as an opportunity.

He is being given the opportunity to share in the tribulations of Jesus during His Passion.  His tribulation is not as extreme as that of Jesus.  Nothing we experience ever quite matches the experiences of Jesus.  But nonetheless it is an opportunity to embrace kinship with the sufferings of Jesus on the Cross.

In past chapters we have reflected on “Living in Jesus,” on “Laying Down One’s Life,” and on “Loving as He Loved.”  Instead of tribulation being an inconvenience or a disaster, tribulation embraced as an opportunity to share in Jesus’ experience of the Passion becomes in some sense the culmination of all of these teachings.  The ultimate experience of the life of Christ is His Passion.  If you truly want to imitate Christ, if you want to identify with Him as closely as possible, then a chance to share in the tribulations of the Passion is the ultimate experience you can hope for. 

This is the genius of Francis the Saint.  He has found a perspective that perhaps was never found by anyone else who ever lived.  It’s a perspective that allows him to draw closer to Christ than anyone else.  He wants so much to share in the suffering of Christ that it ultimately leads to him receiving the stigmata, which in turn allows him to draw closer yet. 

Chapter thirteen of the Major Legend of Saint Francis, by Bonaventure, describes this symbiosis like this:

The man filled with God (Francis) understood that, just as he had imitated Christ in the actions of his life, so he should be conformed to him in the affliction and sorrow of his passion, before he would pass out of this world.

Is that something I wish for?  I’d like to say yes, but I am not sure it would be the truth. 

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Francis, in the end, knows that his reaction to tribulation is out of the ordinary.  He knows that most every other man he encounters will think his position foolhardy.  He knows that his position is in contradiction to the world.  At some level, he experiences the same reaction that the rest of us do.  But at some other level, he is working against that typical reaction.  It is a contest with himself.  If he can master himself and not succumb to the worldly desires of his flesh, if he can remain patient and not become upset, if he can stay focused on Jesus and opportunity instead of taking the typical path, then for at least one moment in time, he will have escaped his human frailty.

This escape, this mastery of his human frailty, is what justifies the claim to true and perfect joy.  In that moment, in that acceptance of tribulation, in that decision to drink the cup that God has placed in front of him, he has truly succeeded in his desire to emulate the decision Christ made in the Garden of Gethsemane that leads to the entire Passion that follows.

This is the reason that he can label his position one of True and Perfect Joy.  It is true and perfect precisely because it is a genuine and authentic rejection of worldly position in favor of a true and perfect orientation to Jesus.  If I could accomplish that at some point in my life, I could also claim the same kind of joy.

In other words, it is the fulfillment of this gospel passage.  To embrace True and Perfect Joy is to find peace.   And, as the gospel passage indicates, peace is found in Jesus. 

It becomes a completed circle.  To share in the tribulations of Jesus is to be in Jesus in the most perfect way possible, which is to be in peace, which is to experience True and Perfect Joy, which is to overcome the tribulations of the world.

Its why, in the end, there is not a conflict between the world being opposed to Jesus and the joy that a mother feels when a child is born into the world.  The tribulation that comes from a world in opposition is the tribulation that allows a child to fully experience the Cross of Jesus and thus to experience true and perfect joy, which is the basis and the hope of the mother’s perfect joy at the moment of the child’s birth in the first place.