A young woman went to her doctor complaining of pain. She touched her knee and yelled, "Ow, that hurts." She touched her cheek and yelled, "Ouch!" Then she touched her earlobe, "Ow, even THAT hurts", she cried.
The doctor paused and then told her, "You have a broken finger."
What would you do to complete the greatest accomplishment of your life? Some would work for years on that book or that work of art. For many of us our greatest feat will be how we face and accept death and the suffering that comes with it.
Perhaps we are not like the eager martyrs who accompanied St Paul Miki. Three thirteen year olds ran ahead to find the smaller crosses to fit their frames and kneeling down, embraced the means to their perfection.
A few months before his death Brother Andre cried out, "I am suffering so much, my God! My God!" And then, in a very weak voice: "Here is the grain; unless the grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone. But if it dies, it brings forth much fruit" (John 12, 24).
Brother Andre's way of speaking about God helped him succeed in sowing seeds of hope in the people he met. They were all enriched. Some were cured, others died some time later, but Brother Andre had consoled them all.
Saint Andre and St Paul Miki shared a vision of the Communion of Saints and of our union with Jesus Christ where we touch others and assist them through our prayers and through offering our suffering for them. We can touch them and care for them in a concrete and physical way as well.
Offering our suffering and our works as prayer is a habit we really should not neglect. For example, I used to hate working Bingos. Now I approach each Bingo night with a purpose and offer the four hours for someone who needs prayer.
In a recent homily Father Brendan McGuire said: "The beatitudes in today's gospel ask us to change the way we view things. Blessed are the poor? Blessed are the hungry? Blessed are the thirsty? Blessed are those who mourn? Do we really want to be any of those things?" He goes on to explain, "when we have been at our lowest point in our lives or when we have experienced the most pain, those are the times when we have probably been closest to God - not that we knew it immediately, but we came to realize how we drew close to God; it was in the midst of all that pain we were right next to God."
God is always present, especially where there is suffering. A reporter once asked Mother Teresa of Calcutta, "Where is God when a baby child dies alone in a back alley?" And Mother Teresa answered tersely, "God is right there with the child in that dark alley. The more important question is, 'Where are you?'"
We need to do more than complain "Where are you God?" We need to do all we can to support the sick and suffering. Though we live under the shadow of Adam's sentence (Genesis), God himself will dance with joy over our salvation.