God's Enduring Promise

During my Alumni Service Corps year at Jesuit, I had the opportunity to make a vocational discernment retreat. As I strolled the grounds at the Jesuit novitiate in Grand Coteau, Louisiana, and prayed about my vocation, I could just picture a toddler on my shoulders pointing at the cows I was looking, gleefully saying, “Da-da, look at the moo-moos!” The deep consolation I felt could not be shaken; in those moments I felt assured of God’s call to be someone’s father, to have a family. In November of 2022, my wife and I were graced with the arrival of our son. The joy I experienced in my imagination in that pastoral setting back in 2014 pales in comparison to the joy I am awash in every time I pick up my son from daycare. It is easy to know God’s goodness as my son hears my voice, turns his head toward me, smiles, and walks with outstretched arms as fast as his tiny legs will carry him to me.

If only parenthood consisted exclusively of moments such as these!

Being a parent is tough. Although I had been told this time and again by my own parents and by others who had embarked on parenthood before me, I feel as though I had no way of bridging the gap between my intellectual understanding of that fact and the understanding that can only come from sleepless nights, a seemingly endless cold season, trips to the emergency room, and glasses being ripped off my face in the middle of a Sunday Mass homily. I’d be naive to think that it simply gets easier as time goes by, but of course I have first hand experience now by which to trust the stories of those parents more experienced than I.

Being a parent is tough because, as Dostoevksy once wrote, “love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.” If to be a person who is loving is truly at the heart of all discipleship, of all Christian vocations, then we must be mindful that to truly know the joy of Christ we must also allow Christ to journey with us in those times that are challenging. Doing so allows us to be transformed for the greater glory of God.

Isn’t that the message of our readings today? After all, the sign of God’s covenant to Noah and all living things is the rainbow - a thing of beauty rarely seen without at least the threat of a storm. The Spirit urges Christ out into the desert, a place of desolation, isolation, “wild beasts,” and temptation by Satan - but in being led to such a place, Christ is able to let the angels minister to him, thus empowering him to proclaim the Gospel. The fulfillment of the Christian life is not in avoiding difficulty, challenges, or suffering, but in allowing God to draw ever-nearer to us in the midst of those experiences, thus allowing us to truly bear witness to the Gospel.

Too often in life we look back at our personal “rainbows” without noticing the “storms” that preceded them; we remember the angels that uplifted us and forget that we only found them while wandering in the desert. Indeed, it’s easy to forget how much that time of discernment in 2014 weighed on me as I prayed that I would make the “right” next decision. As we make our way through this Lent with prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, may we allow God to use these tools to remind us of how God has been and is near to us, so that we can understand deep in our hearts the truth of the Gospel and share that truth with others.

Author: James Luisi, Community Service