XVIII — UNSHAKABLE TRUST

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Presence of God. — O Lord, make me understand well that by myself I am nothing and can do nothing, and what I can do I can do only in You.

Meditation

1 — Two sentiments dominate in the liturgy of today’s Mass: great trust in God and a vivid sense of human misery and insufficiency. Two sentiments closely joined, because precisely awareness of our nothingness makes us place all our trust in God, and because this trust blossoms in us in proportion as we are convinced of our littleness.

Mass begins with a cry of unshakable trust: “The Lord is my light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?” (Introit). The Lord is with me in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the altar; the Lord comes into me in Holy Communion: what can separate me from Him? What can make me afraid?

On the other hand, I know my weakness: my falls, my infidelities are always before me. How much, therefore, I need to repeat humbly the beautiful prayer of the Gradual: “Save us, O Lord, and forgive us our sins... Help us, O God our Savior, for the honor of your name.” Yes, despite the continual helps of divine grace, despite numerous confessions and Communions, each day I must note new failings, each day I must begin again. The struggle is hard and wearisome, but precisely today, in the Epistle, St. Paul reminds me “that the sufferings of this present time are nothing compared with the glory” that awaits us. Consoling thought, thought of hope, of trust. Yet this does not prevent us from feeling the groaning of nature that sighs toward liberation, toward full redemption. The Apostle also experienced it and says: “we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan within ourselves, awaiting adoption, that is, the redemption of our body in Jesus Christ.” The more we suffer because of our misery, the more let us cast ourselves into Christ, with full trust in his Redemption.

2 — Today’s Gospel can be called the practical demonstration of Jesus’ words: “Without me you can do nothing” (Jn. 15:5). Simon and his companions had toiled all night without taking anything: that is what they had managed to do by themselves. If you have some experience of spiritual life, you will recognize that many times so it has happened with you too. How many efforts to free yourself from some attachment, to forget wrongs received, to adapt yourself to others’ way of doing things, to submit your will. And then, after such labor, you found yourself empty-handed, just as Peter inexorably found his net empty. Well then, do not be discouraged. If, instead of becoming irritated by your failure, you know how to acknowledge it humbly, it will become the beginning of your victory. So it happened also to Peter after publicly confessing that he had “taken nothing.” St. Therese of the Child Jesus comments: “Perhaps if the Apostle had taken a few little fish, the divine Master would not have worked a miracle; but since he had taken nothing, his nets, through divine power and goodness, were at once filled with large fish. Such is the character of Our Lord: He gives as God knows how to give, but He wants humility of heart” (Letter).

Despite your good will to advance in virtue, the Lord does not permit that you obtain any success until He sees you deeply convinced of your powerlessness, your insufficiency; and precisely to make you convinced of it, He leaves you, as He left Peter, “to toil all night without taking anything.” But then, as He sees you well persuaded of your indigence and disposed to confess it openly, He will come to your aid. You, therefore, must have great faith in Him and, without letting yourself be dismayed by failures up to now, must each day, “at his word,” begin again. If you have now learned not to trust in your own strength, you must also learn to have full trust in divine help. Perhaps if up to today you have taken nothing, it is because this unshakable trust was lacking, and this lack, besides displeasing Jesus, paralyzes your spiritual life. Repeat then with fervor together with Peter: “in verbo tuo laxabo rete,” Lord, at your word I will cast the nets. But repeat it every day, every moment, never tiring.

Colloquy

“O Lord, You are my light and my salvation; what shall I fear? You are the stronghold of my life; of what should I be afraid? Though an army encamp against me, my heart will not fear; though war rise against me, even then I shall be confident... One thing only, O Lord, and always I will ask of You: that I may dwell in your house all the days of my life. For in the day of trouble You will hide me in your tent, You will keep me sheltered in your pavilion, You will set me upon a high rock.

“Hear, O Lord, the cry with which I call upon You: have mercy on me and hear me... Hide not your face from me, cast not away your servant in anger, You who have been my help. Reject me not and forsake me not, O God my Savior. Even if my father and my mother forsake me, I am sure that You will not forsake me. My soul, hope in the Lord, be strengthened, take heart and hope in Him” (cf. Ps. 26).

“O Lord, You have wrought great things in me; and the greatest is to have shown me my littleness and my impotence for every good.

“Lord, You see it: I fall into many weaknesses, but I am not astonished by it... I return into myself and say: am I still found at the first steps as before? But I say all this with great peace and without sadness, because I know that You know perfectly the fragility of our nature and are always ready to help us. What then shall I fear? As soon as You see me convinced of my nothingness, O Lord, You hold out your hand to me; but if I wanted to try to do something great even under pretext of zeal, You would immediately leave me alone. It is enough then that I humble myself and willingly bear my imperfections; behold in what true holiness consists for me” (cf. T.B.G. St. 9; NV. CR).