Crushed

In today’s Gospel from Mark 3, we read:

Jesus withdrew toward the sea with his disciples.
A large number of people followed from Galilee and from Judea.
Hearing what he was doing,
a large number of people came to him also from Jerusalem,
from Idumea, from beyond the Jordan,
and from the neighborhood of Tyre and Sidon.
He told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd,
so that they would not crush him.
He had cured many and, as a result, those who had diseases
were pressing upon him to touch him.

As I was praying with this passage, I thought of the many times I’ve felt as though I’m being crushed by my responsibilities, my anxieties — good things and not-so-good things. Jesus readies a boat that he might not be crushed by the crowd (which was seeking him out of their desire for healing) by floating on peaceful waters. This got me thinking about the waters of Baptism and the call to abide (cf. Jn 15) in the Lord. By abiding in the new relationship with God established by Baptism and in our baptismal identity, we remain on those calm, peaceful waters despite whatever threatens to encroach upon our peace and crush it.

Though a different image, this reminds me of a passage from my book Surviving Catholic Ministry:

Snakes crawl on their bellies, low to the ground. Scraping the earth. They dwell in low areas, awaiting their prey, ready to pounce. In the mountains and regions high above sea level, one does not find snakes. These low-lying creatures do not like altitude, they cannot withstand the elements of the heights. They remain below a certain line. This is the invisible “line,” a certain altitude, above which you will not find snakes and below which you will. People refer to this phenomenon as the “snake line.”

Beyond camping or hiking, we can apply the snake line to spiritual matters. For in our spiritual lives, we should strive to remain above the snake line. We are to avoid those base areas of temptation, those valleys of secretive darkness, and the confusion caused by self-doubt. Below the snake line, lying in wait, we find the devil, “a murderer from the beginning,” who “does not stand in truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie, he speaks in character, because he is a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44). He is the accuser, diabolos, one who rips apart and tears asunder.

Identity crises, that is forgetting we are beloved sons and daughters of God, often lie at the heart of our dip beneath the snake line. When this happens, we are susceptible to attack. Our forgetfulness of our identity, our lack of awareness of communion with God, is an apt description of concupiscence, that inclination to sin that remains even after original sin is washed away in Baptism. In the Fall, the Catechism says, “Man, tempted by the devil, let his trust in his Creator die in his heart and, abusing his freedom, disobeyed God’s command. This is what man’s first sin consisted of. All subsequent sin would be disobedience toward God and lack of trust in his goodness” (§397). Concupiscence is tied to original sin. Original sin was not an outright rejection of God, but a break in filial relationship with him. In the original sin, Adam and Eve stopped believing that God was their loving Father and they stepped out of relationship. They had fallen below the snake line, jeopardizing and eventually losing the sense of their identity.God calls us to remain above the snake line. “Remain in my love,” he says (John 15:9). It’s as if he’s saying, “Hold fast to your identity as my son. Hold fast to your identity as my daughter. Don’t forget that I see you, that I know you, that I’ve chosen you. I adopted you. You are mine.”


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