Magisterium of Pope Francis
"I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Gal 2,19:6,3). The apostle Paul uses very strong words to express the mystery of Christian life: everything is summed up in the Paschal dynamism of death and resurrection, received in Baptism. In fact, with immersion in water everyone is as if they were dead and buried with Christ (see Rom 4:XNUMX-XNUMX), while, when he re-emerges from it, he manifests new life in the Holy Spirit. This condition of rebirth involves the entire existence, in every aspect: even illness, suffering and death are inserted in Christ, and find their ultimate meaning in Him. Today, on the Jubilee day dedicated to those who bear the signs of illness and disability, this Word of life finds a particular resonance in our Assembly.
In reality, sooner or later we are all called to confront, sometimes clash with, our own and others' frailties and illnesses. And how many different faces these typically and dramatically human experiences take on! In any case, they raise the question about the meaning of existence in a more acute and pressing way. A cynical attitude can also take over in our soul, as if everything could be solved by suffering or relying only on one's own strength. Other times, on the contrary, we place all our trust in the discoveries of science, thinking that certainly somewhere in the world there is a medicine capable of curing the disease. Unfortunately this is not the case, and even if that medicine existed, it would be accessible to very few people.
Human nature, wounded by sin, carries within itself the reality of limitations. We know the objection that, especially in these times, is raised when faced with an existence marked by strong physical limitations. It is believed that a sick or disabled person cannot be happy, because they are incapable of realizing the lifestyle imposed by the culture of pleasure and entertainment. In the era in which a certain body care has become a mass myth and therefore an economic affair, what is imperfect must be obscured, because it undermines the happiness and serenity of the privileged and undermines the dominant model. Better to keep these people separate, in some "fence" - perhaps golden - or in the "reserves" of pietism and welfare, so that they do not hinder the rhythm of false well-being. In some cases, it is even argued that it is better to get rid of them as soon as possible, because they become an unsustainable economic burden in a time of crisis. But, in reality, what an illusion does today's man live when he closes his eyes to illness and disability! He does not understand the true meaning of life, which also involves the acceptance of suffering and limitations. The world does not become better because it is only made up of apparently "perfect" people, not to say "made up", but when solidarity between human beings, mutual acceptance and respect grow. How true are the words of the apostle: "God has chosen him who is weak in the world to shame the strong" (1 Cor 1,27:XNUMX)!
This Sunday's Gospel (Lk 7,36–8,3) also presents a particular situation of weakness. The sinful woman is judged and marginalized, while Jesus welcomes her and defends her: "He loved her very much" (v. 47). This is the conclusion of Jesus, attentive to the suffering and crying of that person. His tenderness is a sign of the love that God reserves for those who suffer and are excluded. There is not only physical suffering; today, one of the most frequent pathologies is also that which affects the spirit. It is a suffering that involves the soul and makes it sad because it is devoid of love. The pathology of sadness. When you experience disappointment or betrayal in important relationships, you then find yourself vulnerable, weak and defenseless. The temptation to withdraw into oneself becomes very strong, and one risks losing the opportunity of a lifetime: to love despite everything. Love despite everything!
The happiness that everyone desires, moreover, can be expressed in many ways and can only be achieved if we are capable of loving. This is the way. It's always a question of love, there is no other way. The real challenge is that of those who love more. How many disabled and suffering people reopen to life as soon as they discover that they are loved! And how much love can flow from a heart even just for a smile! Smile therapy. Then fragility itself can become comfort and support for our loneliness. Jesus, in his passion, loved us to the end (see John 13,1:53,5); on the cross he revealed the Love that gives itself without limits. What could we reproach God for our infirmities and sufferings that is not already imprinted on the face of his crucified Son? To his physical pain are added derision, marginalization and pity, while he responds with the mercy that welcomes everyone and forgives everyone: "by his wounds we were healed" (Is 1; 2,24 Pt 4,15, XNUMX). Jesus is the doctor who heals with the medicine of love, because he takes our suffering upon himself and redeems it. We know that God knows how to understand our infirmities, because He himself experienced them firsthand (see Heb XNUMX:XNUMX).
The way we experience illness and disability is an indication of the love we are willing to offer. The way we deal with suffering and limits is a criterion of our freedom to give meaning to life's experiences, even when they appear absurd and undeserved. Let us not allow ourselves, therefore, to be disturbed by these tribulations (see 1 Thess 3,3:2). We know that in weakness we can become strong (see 12,10 Cor 1,24:XNUMX), and receive the grace to complete what is missing in us from the sufferings of Christ, for the benefit of the Church, his body (see Col XNUMX:XNUMX); a body which, in the image of that of the risen Lord, retains the wounds, a sign of the hard struggle, but they are wounds transfigured forever by love.