— In honor of those who taught me the valuable lessons of redemptive suffering and in preparation for the 2026 Lenten season —
A few years ago, a movie, Father Stu, starring Mark Wahlberg, inspired a lot of people. It was based on the true story of Fr. Stuart Long, who suffered from a very rare disease. To be honest with you, I did not watch it immediately and waited until it was released on DVD. I rented it from Redbox and watched it at home by myself. The plot was beautifully written. The crude language was a little too much, but I am not surprised by any of the words since I am in the military and hear them all the time. Nonetheless, it brought me to tears, and I cried several times throughout the movie because Fr. Stu‘s story was very relatable and similar to the stories of some priests that I have known. I recognize the dramatic Hollywood effect that made the movie into a tear-jerker, for sure, but the lesson of redemptive suffering hits home for me because I know that lesson is not easy at all! In all of his imperfections, Fr. Stu, like many priests that I have come to respect, is perfectly human in embracing their struggles and sufferings in loving Him.
Stu grew up with many challenges and a rough past. He did try to overcome his own familial and personal issues, but he seemed to keep failing and falling. Nonetheless, he never gave up and kept on surviving. Hoping to gain the attention of a devout Catholic, he started to attend Mass to impress her. A lady led him into the Church, but he, ironically, stayed and became deeply in love with Our Lady. I found it interesting that I have seen similar stories like his, and it is wonderful to hear how people got pulled into the faith through the humanistic love of a human, but stayed because of the faith! That journey of faith led him to the journey that led him to answer the priestly vocation. All his different chapters of life were not easy because he constantly had to prove himself genuine and capable in front of a system that second-guessed true conversion and worthiness. At the end, he persevered and was able to stay the course until he himself had to face his own human limitations and physical defects with a progressive muscular disorder.
I have three examples of faith and redemptive sufferings that I would like to share with you: Martha, one of my former parishioners; Fr. John Mary, my first spiritual director; and Fr. Stephen Jasso, one of the priests who served in my home diocese. All came from different walks of life, vocations, and states of life. However, they all taught me how to embrace suffering in genuine and beautiful ways as they try to pray and offer their sufferings to others.
Martha was a convert to the faith. She was a parishioner at my first parish as a newly-ordained priest. She used to be an ASL translator at Mass for us. I got to know her well, and we kept in touch even when I left my first parish. She asked me to pray a lot when her breast cancer returned with a vicious spell. She was suffering a lot, but she always joked that God knew that she was struggling with patience, so He was allowing her to practice it well (in enduring her battle). Even though she asked for my prayers, I often asked her to pray for me when she was practicing her virtue of patience. I genuinely believe that her prayers, as well as many others, sustained me in my own faith and ministerial journey because I would not be here without their intercessory assistance. She later passed away from this world after a long battle against cancer, but left a big imprint on my heart forever.
Fr. John Mary was my first spiritual director when I was a young postulant with the Vietnamese Redemptorists. He was very humble, spoke little, but was a very faithful missionary. He took his calling very seriously. I was his assigned driver to different places so he could be present and care for people (because driving was not helpful with his poor eyesight). Unfortunately, he had a very bad fall when he was walking up to his room at the community house, which left him paralyzed for many years to come. He struggled a lot to come to terms with his loss of mobility and especially having to rely on us to assist, clean up, and take care of him. He lost patience and flared up at times as a human person, but always apologized when he came to terms with reality because of his genuine humility. When it was too much for us to take care of him, he obediently accepted the superior’s request to be in a nursing home to receive professional care. It was hard for him to be away from his religious community, but he accepted the will of God through his superior, with only one request, that he would be able to come back to the community in his last days to die amongst his brethren. His wish was granted. Even when I left the Redemptorists, his examples of humility taught me the invaluable lesson of obedience in embracing God’s will, even when it was against his own desires, liking, and wants.
Fr. Steve Jasso was a Franciscan (TOR) priest who served as a pastor at a city-center, poor, predominantly Hispanic parish in Fort Worth for many years. He and I were very theologically different! To be honest, there were times I was very irritated by his comments and speeches at our different priests’ gatherings, because he seemed to be saying the same thing over and over again. However, I felt very bad when we found out that he had ALS and was losing mobility at a very drastic rate. He was bound to a wheelchair within a short time and ultimately ended up bedridden. I was at a loss for words seeing him at a Chrism Mass in his wheelchair, assisted by a healthcare professional and with tubes to help him breathe. This man, who was a very vocal advocate and rights activist, was now someone who was bound to a disabled body; nonetheless, his presence was a powerful reminder of what the priesthood is all about! At the end of the day, being a priest is nothing more than being faithful in serving the Church to the best of our ability, no matter how that might seem useless, unnecessary, or too much for some of us.
We, as Catholics, believe that the Son of God willingly endured sufferings for us, hence showing us that we are worth loving. In His redemptive love on the Cross, He showed us the way of true love by laying down His life for ours; therefore, we can unite our own sufferings, trials, and hardships with His very own by conforming our will to His. Even though it makes no sense, especially why would a loving God allow His subjects to suffer, we believe that God does not take away our humanity with all its blessings and shortcomings. Nevertheless, instead of letting us be defined by evil, He showed us that He can make all things good if we trust in Him.
The very act of dying to ourselves, embracing oppositions, hardships, trials, and sufferings are opportunity for us to unite ourselves to Christ‘s own redemptive suffering. As a matter of fact, our human mishaps and sufferings are not always divine punishment or abandonment in the impoverished understanding of transactional and favor-based understanding of grace. If that is the case, Jesus Christ would be the most despicable and failed case in human history, and all the saints would be ignorant fools!
The Church teaches us that by enduring Christ’s sufferings in every age, especially in her members, she bears true witness to His redemptive love to all. In a self-centered and materialistic world, the generosity of genuine self-donating love, even if it means suffering, testifies to Christ‘s own redemptive love for humanity. At times in our spiritual journey, we will feel like we have lost everything, hated by many, abandoned by God, and left for dead! We might feel like we are in the darkness by ourselves — cannot feel His presence in our psyche or natural senses — just like St. Mother Teresa in her own dark nights of the soul for forty years; however, we continued to choose to love and serve so that His light shone in and through her darkness.
How beautiful it is to know that we are not alone, even in our earthly trials, hardships, and struggles! The Savior knows, and He understands what we are going through in our very own lives. Therefore, even though we are still struggling with how to make sense of what is going on in our lives, we are not abandoned by God. Contrary to much popular thinking that God likes to smite and punish people, my God does not like to hurt others. Of course, life is not fair nor is it perfect! We do not always get what we want, and things do not always go the way we desire; however, we are not abandoned by Him, even if our whole world abandons us.
The love of God gives us consolation and strength to bear all wrongs, injustices, pains, and sufferings of this world because we are not alone in our struggles, wrong bearings, and misunderstandings. We can unite our trials and hardships with the Lord Jesus Christ out of love for Him and as expiation, prayer, and offering for those who are in need, those who have no one to pray for them, for those who are about to give up on life or contemplating suicide, the good of the world, or the poor souls in purgatory. Our sufferings are not meaningless because we do not suffer alone! We can unite everything that we are going through with the Lord, just as He united all of His trials, hardships, sufferings, and anguishes to His Father, through the power and working of the Holy Spirit, for our salvation.
Trials and sufferings can lead one into the rabbit hole of despair and hellish existence very fast. Nonetheless, even in the midst of our hardships, we are not alone, and the Lord has given us a real example of what it means to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. Furthermore, the saints have also taught us how to embrace misunderstandings, false accusations, hardships, and others’ wrongdoings for the love of Him who first loves us. We, therefore, can humbly and genuinely come to the Lord, saying,
Lord, I dislike this right now. I personally don’t want this to happen. If it can be taken away, I ask for that; but if not, grant me the strength to drink the cup you’ve given to me. I unite myself to you wholly and completely, offering everything that I’m going through for those who are in need of my prayer and of You, for the greater good of the world, for those who have no one to pray for them, especially the poor souls in purgatory.
May God give you peace and grant you strength, especially a grace-filled, transformative, and life-changing Lenten season so we can remember who we are as His beloved — imperfectly perfected by love.