TERESITA TANSECO-CRUZ
Lent is here. I don’t give up anything for this penitential season, with my observance of it closely resembling New Year’s resolutions instead. I often resolve for Lent and thereafter, to curb my habitual indulgence in arrogance, impatience, and egoistic posturing. Not surprisingly, my track record is a bit abysmal.
However, this Lent has begun with something I have not experienced before. I have found myself with an unusual longing, an interior restlessness both intriguing and exciting. In my prayers, I have been asking God for “more” as though a vast hungry space within me is waiting for it, needing it.
I yearn to hang out more with Jesus. I want to be bombarded with his presence, to keep finding him everywhere I turn. Then I think of the many times through any given day when my impatience competes fiercely with God’s presence. And that’s just for starters. How can I attain the “more” when I am stuck in so much “less”?
I suddenly remember Peter, one of my two go-to saints. Peter had been chosen by Jesus to be head apostle. Surely he had it made, right? I think his impulsiveness and bravado were somewhat amusing (remember the washing of the feet episode?), his imperfections in full view, but I believe a couple of his blunders got him into some hot water with Jesus.
And yet… and yet, Jesus loved Peter through all his fumbles, correcting, and putting him in his place when needed, but never giving up on him. And in the most infamous scenario where, protecting himself from the Roman soldiers’ disdain and mockery (or sword), Peter denied Christ not once but three times. What Peter got was not a counter rejection, but a sorrowful look from Jesus.
How shamefully often do I declare my commitment of love and fidelity to Christ, only to succumb weakly and quickly to my vain disposition, my ego dictating an immediate shift to “self preservation” mode, the minute my pathetic pride or self-esteem is threatened!
So I turn to my role model Peter who tripped and stumbled, but who knew remorse and recovered his humility swiftly. In his heart’s memory he remembered God’s love and mercy. So yes, with that startling denial, Peter did try to save his skin. And with relentless love, Jesus saved his soul.
I keep in my resolve the image of this all-too-human apostle breaking down into full contrition, weeping the tears of a repentant servant so fully wrapped in love and redemption. May God grant me the same mercy!
Lord, please give me the grace of faith and courage to keep trying all my days, heart humbled and penitent, like Peter. Let me never forget that to have more means to give all that I am, to you. Thus shall my void be filled to overflowing!
St Peter, pray for me!