Gethsemane

Gethsemane

Living for God is such a noble, lofty thing- we righteously offer our lives, our families, our efforts, our yearnings to the Heavenly Father Who loves us. Sometimes our hearts burst with the wonder of the awesome privilege of saying yes to Him. “I will die for You if you ask it!"

Then there are those “other times”. God seems silent, distant, even gone. Life is a burden and a pain, and dragging through another day has lost all sense of nobility and purpose. Like Jesus in Gethsemane, we cry out in our loneliness and fear. Like Him, we don’t want to do the Will of the Father. Take it away! Last fall as I struggled to see the Lord’s loving hand in the bloody aftermath of my miscarriage, I found myself pondering on the mystery of the blood atonement. I felt, for the first time, that I could really feel the utter abandonment that Jesus felt in that garden and on the cross, as He felt His life literally pour out for the world. The Sacrifice of Christ had no semblance of nobility or honor right then- it was crushing pain and humiliation and apparent defeat. No one felt “uplifted” in the midst of that tragic event.

During the black days after my miscarriage a line in a hymn struck me: “…His life poured out like blood.” Isn’t that just what I was experiencing, as the little life within me flowed away? Maybe I am just rationalizing, trying to find some good in such an awful experience, but there is truly a spiritual reality here. We can actually offer our blood, joined with Christ’s, for a fallen world. What a privilege! Just as we share in His sacrifice at every Mass, we can share in His suffering through our losses. We don’t have to like it or want it- like Jesus in Gethsemane, we just have to in the end say, “…Thy Will, not mine!”

As the months went by without the blessing of another conception, I found myself pondering once again on this singular privilege we as women have, to offer our very blood to the Father. For those of you who have suffered infertility or miscarriage, you know the sinking depression that the monthly flow brings. I found myself, again and again, asked by the Father to offer my blood, according to His Will not mine. This is an opportunity that God gives us women almost every month for a good portion of our lives.

Our share in Christ’s passion isn’t restricted just to times when life is lost or absent, though. Our call to share in Christ’s passion extends to the times of fruitfulness, when we offer our bodies so that another eternal soul can find a home in God. As I once again nourish the life of a soul within me, I see that my offering can continue. When we choose to give ourselves to God in trusting abandonment to His plan, we can offer our blood once more for the life of each new soul we accept lovingly from Him. This is joy, yes, but we face a sort of death in childbirth that on the surface seems senseless- Stop the pain! I can’t do this! Why have You abandoned me? For others, the burden of yet another baby seems overwhelming, and we can’t quite grasp any nobility in our overwhelming lives. I realize it is probably the furthest thing from our minds at those intense moments, but we can join our suffering, our blood, to His during pregnancy and especially in childbirth itself, for the atonement of sins.

So, whether our wombs are full or empty, we can walk with Jesus and share in His passion in a very real, very physical way. As St. Paul said, “…I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want, I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.”
(Philippians 4:11-13)