Olive

Good Friday

April 10, 2020

John 18 – 19

jesus prays 2If there is one thing that unites people from different nations, languages, and religions, that is the experience of suffering. With the ultra-fast spreading coronavirus, covid-19, people with different backgrounds, young and old, rich or poor, and noblemen or commoners, and laypeople or clergy fall in their knees and tremble. Indeed, this microscopic virus has shattered countless lives. People are dying, hospitals are overwhelmed, cities are isolated, families are separated, workers are jobless, governments are at loss, and churches are empty. Pope Francis notes that “we are just one the same boat”, and this boat is sinking. Suffering forces us to admit our human frailty and all that we are proud of, are a mere breath.

I heard more and more questions from some of my friends, “When is it going to end? We miss to do our ordinary routine, when can we go back to the Church? Are we going to survive? Are we going to die? Where is God in this most troubling time?” As a priest working in a parish, it is our duty to strengthen the people of God in this moment of trials, yet I cannot simply offer a consoling yet untrue words. I cannot simply say, “it is going to end soon” though, at the back of their minds, they know that it is not. It is a plain lie when I tell people, “It is fine, don’t worry.” While I am myself struggling with pain and disappointment. This is my first year as a priest, yet, I find myself exiled from the people of I serve. The most painful reality is that I cannot celebrate the Holy Week, the most sacred time with the people I love and care for.

At this moment of confusion, pain, and suffering, I would like to invite all of you to see the cross, and yet before the cross, let us be with Jesus on His agony in the garden. Jesus together with His three disciples, went to the mount of Olivet, and to the part of this mount, the garden called Gethsemane. The name Gethsemane means “olive press” and some of the olive oil needed by the city of Jerusalem came from this place. Olive itself is a basic and yet precious oil. It is used for daily household needs like cooking, seasoning, and burning the lamp. Since it has a therapeutic effect, the oil serves as a medicine. It is also used for sacred purposes. Olive oil is offered as part of daily sacrifice in the Temple [Num 28:5]. And the priests like Aaron and kings like David were anointed with olive oil. With a wide range of utilities, from household to sacred use, no wonder that in ancient Jewish traditions, the olive tree was considered as the tree of life in the middle of the garden of Eden.

However, to produce the oil, the fruits have to be two-step crushing process. Firstly, the fruits shall be ground by a huge millstone. Secondly, the olive pulp shall be squeezed to extract the oil. The fruits of the tree of life have to be crushed to produce life itself. And Jesus understood that He is the new tree of life, and He has to be crushed first to yield the true life.

Jesus is facing the horrifying time in His life and He has all the options to deal with it. Jesus could have run, He could have summoned the legions of angels to defend Him, or He could simply place someone else to be crucified. Yet, Jesus chooses to embrace His cross and death because He knows this is the most fruitful way. Only through suffering and death, He can love us to the end, and we may have life abundantly.

In the face of our suffering, we are called like Jesus to embrace it, and even be crushed by it, so that true life may flow. It is true that in my first year as a priest, God has a different plan for me, and I cannot celebrate the Holy Week with the people I serve, but He gives me even a precious gift to participate in His suffering and death more fully.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Hosanna

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

April 5, 2020

Matthew 21:1-11 and Matthew 26:14—27:66

palm at homeToday, we are celebrating the Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion. In many countries, today is a big celebration where people excitedly throng the Church. I remember when I was still studying in the Philippines, the faithful would pack almost all the 11 masses in our Church, Santo Domingo Church. It was a festive celebration as many people were carrying palm branches of a coconut tree.

However, something bizarre takes place this year. The churches in many countries are temporarily closed, the faithful are asked to avoid gathering, including the Holy Eucharist, and people are confused about what to do with the Celebration of the Holy Week. A parishioner once painfully asked me, “Father, since the Church is closed, what shall I do with the palm branches I have?” Surely, there is always a pastoral solution to any problem that the faithful have. Yet, the real issue is not so much about how to clear up the confusion, but how to deal with the deep pain of losing what makes us Catholics. No palm in our hands, no kissing of the crucifix, and no Body of Christ.

Reflecting on our Gospels’ today, we are somehow like the people of Jerusalem who welcomed Jesus and shouted, “Hosanna!” The Hebrew word “Hosanna” literally means “save us!” or “give us salvation!” It is a cry of hop `e and expectation. We need to remember that the people of Israel during this time was were under the Roman Empire’s occupations. Commonly, lives were hard and many people endured heavy taxation under severe punishment. Many faithful Jews were anticipating the promised Messiah, who like David, would restore the lost twelve tribes of Israel, deliver them from the grip of the Romans and bring them into a glorious kingdom. They saw Jesus as a charismatic preacher, miraculous healer, and nature conqueror, and surely, Jesus could be the king that would turn the Roman legions upside down. We need to remember also the context of the Gospel that in few days, the Jewish people would celebrate the great feast of Passover, and thousands of people were gathered in Jerusalem. With so much energy and euphoria, a small incident could ignite a full-scale rebellion. And Jesus was at the center of this whirlpool.

Jesus is indeed a king and savior, but He is not the kind of king that many people would expect. He is a peaceful king, rather than a warmonger, that is why He chose a gentle ass rather than a strong horse. His crown is not shining gold and diamond, but piercing thorns. His robe is not purple and fine-linen, but skin full of scars. His throne is neither majestic nor desirable, but a cross.

We may be like people of Jerusalem, and we shout “Hosanna!” to Jesus, expecting Him to save us from this terrible pandemic, to bring our liturgical celebrations back, and to solve all our problems. However, like people of Jerusalem, we may get it wrong. Jesus is our Savior, but He may save us in the way that we do not even like.

The challenge is whether we lose patience and dismiss Jesus as a preacher of fake news, rather than good news, or endure the humiliation with Him; whether we get discouraged and begin to shout, “Crucify Him!” or we stand by His cross. The challenge is whether we get bitter and start mocking the church authorities for their incompetence handling the crisis or we continue to support them in time of trial; whether we are cursing the grim situations or we begin to spread the light however small it is.

Why does God allow us to endure this terrible experience, or to be more precise, why does God allow Himself to endure this terrible experience? Let us wait at the Good Friday.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Hosanna

Minggu Palma Mengenang Sengsara Tuhan

5 April 2020

Matius 21: 1-11 dan Matius 26: 14—27: 66

palm n crossHari ini, kita merayakan Minggu Palma. Di banyak negara, hari ini adalah perayaan besar dan umat dengan penuh semangat memenuhi Gereja. Saya ingat waktu masih kecil saya selalu paling semangat ikut perarakan romo yang memasuki Gereja dan kami mengikutinya dengan membawa daun palma kami masing-masing.

Namun, sesuatu yang memilukan terjadi tahun ini. Gereja-gereja di banyak negara ditutup sementara, umat beriman diminta untuk tidak berkumpul, termasuk menghadiri Ekaristi suci, dan orang-orang bingung apa yang harus dilakukan dengan Perayaan Pekan Suci. Seorang umat paroki bertanya dengan sedih kepada saya, “Romo, karena Gereja ditutup, apa yang harus saya lakukan dengan cabang-cabang palma yang saya petik?” Tentunya, selalu ada solusi pastoral untuk hal-hal ini, tetapi masalah sebenarnya bukan tentang bagaimana mengatasi kebingungan, tetapi bagaimana menghadapi kepedihan yang mendalam karena kehilangan apa yang membuat kita menjadi Katolik. Tidak ada palma di tangan kita, tidak ada ciuman kaki salib, dan tidak ada Tubuh Kristus.

Orang-orang Yerusalem yang menyambut Yesus dan berteriak, “Hosanna!” Kata Ibrani “Hosanna” secara harfiah berarti “selamatkan kami!” atau “beri kami keselamatan!” Itu adalah seruan harapan. Kita perlu ingat bahwa orang-orang Israel pada masa ini berada di bawah pendudukan Kekaisaran Romawi. Umumnya, kehidupan itu sulit dan banyak orang menanggung pajak berat dan peraturan yang membebankan. Banyak orang Yahudi yang setia mengharapkan Mesias yang dijanjikan, yang seperti Daud, akan memulihkan dua belas suku Israel yang hilang, membebaskan mereka dari cengkeraman bangsa Romawi dan membawa mereka ke kerajaan yang mulia. Mereka melihat Yesus sebagai pewarta karismatik, penyembuh ajaib, dan penakluk alam yang ganas, dan tentunya, Yesus bisa menjadi raja yang akan menjungkirbalikkan pasukan Romawi. Kita perlu mengingat juga konteks Injil hari ini, bahwa dalam beberapa hari, orang-orang Yahudi akan merayakan pesta besar Paskah, dan ribuan orang berkumpul di Yerusalem. Dengan begitu banyak energi dan euforia, insiden kecil bisa memicu pemberontakan skala besar. Dan Yesus berada di pusat pusaran ini.

Yesus memang seorang raja dan penyelamat, tetapi Ia bukan raja yang diharapkan banyak orang. Dia adalah raja damai, bukan jendral perang, itulah sebabnya Dia memilih keledai yang lembut daripada kuda yang kuat. Mahkotanya bukan emas dan berlian yang bersinar, tetapi duri yang tajam. Jubahnya bukan kain halus ungu, tetapi kulit yang penuh luka. Takhta-Nya tidak megah, tetapi sebuah salib yang hina.

Kita mungkin seperti orang-orang di Yerusalem, dan kita berteriak “Hosanna!” kepada Yesus, mengharapkan Dia untuk menyelamatkan kita dari pandemi yang mengerikan ini, untuk mengembalikan perayaan liturgi kita, dan untuk menyelesaikan semua masalah kita. Namun, seperti orang-orang Yerusalem, kita mungkin keliru. Yesus adalah Juru Selamat kita, tetapi Dia mungkin menyelamatkan kita dengan cara yang bahkan tidak kita sukai.

Tantangannya adalah apakah kita kehilangan kesabaran dan mengatakan bahwa Yesus sebagai pewarta hoax, dan bukan kabar baik, atau menanggung penghinaan dengan-Nya; apakah kita berkecil hati dan mulai berteriak, “Salibkan Dia!” atau kita berdiri di dekat salib-Nya. Tantangannya adalah apakah kita menjadi pahit dan mulai mengejek otoritas gereja karena ketidakmampuan mereka menangani krisis, atau kita terus mendukung mereka pada masa pencobaan; apakah kita mengutuk situasi yang suram, atau kita mulai menyebarkan cahaya sekecil apa pun itu.

Mengapa Tuhan membiarkan kita menanggung pengalaman mengerikan ini, atau lebih tepatnya, mengapa Allah membiarkan diri-Nya menanggung pengalaman mengerikan ini? Mari kita tunggu jawabannya di Jumat Agung.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Our Core Memories

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion [April 14, 2019] Luke 19:28-40/Luke 23:1-49

“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord (Luk 19:38).”

jesus enter jerusalem 3One of the greatest gifts to humanity is the gift of memory. It gives us a sense of identity. Biology teaches us that almost all our body parts are being replaced over the years. One-year-old Stephen is biologically different from thirty-year-old Stephen. All bodily cells, with the sole exception of his eyes’ lens, are changed. What unites thirty-year-old Stephen with his younger self as well as his future self is his memory.

Not only does memory enable us to connect to ourselves, but it also relates us to other people. We are able to recognize our parents, siblings, and friends because we remember all the good thing, we have received from them. Our memories shape who we are. Thus, the illness that ruins our memories like Alzheimer, is one of the most heinous. Persons with Alzheimer gradually can no longer remember persons who love them; they even cannot recall doing their basic functions like eating and going to the restroom.

One of the uniqueness of human beings is that we do not have only individual memory, but we have communal memory. These common memories are passed through generations, and these form the identity of a group. We are Indonesians, Filipinos, Indians, Americans, or other nations because we have common memories that unite us as a nation. When a nation is inflicted by a kind “Alzheimer” that destroys its common memory, it begins to lose its identity as a nation. Cardinal Robert Sarah from Guinea reminds that Europe is in crisis and in danger of dissolution. He argues that the reason is that the European people began to forget their historical and cultural roots, their common memories.

We Christian share the core and fundamental memory. Palm Sunday or Jesus’ entrance to Jerusalem marks the beginning of the most important drama of the Gospel, the drama of the Holy Week. The memory was so significant to the early Christians that the episode was recorded in all four Gospels with great details (Mat 21:1-11, Mark 11:1-11, and John 12:12-19), though with some different emphases. We may even say that the Holy Week especially the Last Supper, the Passion, and Resurrection are the core and foundational memory of every true Christian.

This explains why the Church celebrates Holy Week every year, not because she simply wants to have big events, but because this celebration reconnects us with the core memories that make us as Christians. Yet, we do not only remember the events of the past; we are not just spectators. Through the power of the liturgy, we relive the fundamental stories of Jesus Christ. Together with Christ, we enter Jerusalem. Together with Him, we celebrate the Passover. Together with Him, we are persecuted, crucified and we die. Together with Him, we are buried in the dark tomb. But together with Him, we are raised from the dead.

However, it is our choice whether to follow Him or go against Him: to become people who shout “Hosanna” or people who cry “Crucify Him”; to become a disciple who walks the way of the cross or disciples who run away from Him; to be crucified with Jesus or to crucify Jesus. But it is only the true followers of Jesus who can together with Him be raised from the dead. Holy Week is our time to make that choice: to follow Jesus or to go against Him.

Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Rusneo, OP

Memori Kita

Hari Minggu Palma Mengenangkan Sengsara Tuhan [14 April 2019] Lukas 19: 28-40 / Lukas 23: 1-49

jesus enter jerusalem 2Salah satu karunia terbesar bagi umat manusia adalah memori. Ini memberi kesadaran akan identitas kita. Biologi mengajarkan kita bahwa hampir semua bagian tubuh kita akan tergantikan saat kita hidup. Stephen yang berusia satu tahun secara biologis berbeda dari Stephen yang berusia tiga puluh tahun. Semua sel tubuhnya telah digantikan dan akan terus digantikan sampai ia wafat. Apa yang menyatukan Stephen yang berusia tiga puluh tahun dengan dirinya yang lebih muda serta diri di masa depannya adalah ingatannya.

Memori tidak hanya memungkinkan kita terhubung dengan diri kita sendiri, tetapi juga menghubungkan kita dengan orang lain. Kita dapat mengenali orang tua, saudara, dan teman-teman kita karena kita mengingat semua hal baik yang kita terima dari mereka. Ingatan kita membentuk siapa kita. Jadi, penyakit yang merusak ingatan kita seperti Alzheimer, adalah salah satu yang paling kejam. Orang-orang dengan Alzheimer secara bertahap tidak lagi dapat mengingat orang-orang yang mencintai mereka, dan bahkan mereka tidak dapat mengingat melakukan fungsi dasar mereka seperti makan dan pergi ke kamar kecil.

Salah satu keunikan manusia adalah bahwa kita tidak hanya memiliki ingatan individu, tetapi kita memiliki ingatan bersama. Ingatan bersama ini diturunkan dari generasi ke generasi, dan ini membentuk identitas kelompok. Kita adalah orang Indonesia, Filipina, India, Amerika, atau bangsa lain karena kita memiliki memori bersama yang menyatukan kita sebagai suatu bangsa. Ketika suatu bangsa dipengaruhi oleh jenis “alzhaimer” yang menghancurkan ingatan bersama mereka, mereka mulai kehilangan identitas mereka sebagai suatu bangsa. Kardinal Robert Sarah dari Guinea mengingatkan bahwa Eropa sedang dalam krisis dan dalam bahaya pembubaran. Dia berpendapat bahwa alasannya adalah bahwa orang-orang Eropa mulai melupakan akar sejarah dan budaya mereka, memori bersama mereka.

Kita umat Kristiani berbagi memori inti dan fundamental yang sama. Minggu Palma atau Yesus yang memasuki kota Yerusalem menandai dimulainya drama Injil yang paling penting, drama Pekan Suci. Memori ini begitu penting bagi pengikut Yesus perdana sehingga episode ini direkam dalam keempat Injil dengan sangat rinci (Mat 21: 1-11, Markus 11: 1-11, dan Yohanes 12: 12-19), meskipun dengan beberapa tekanan berbeda. Kita bahkan dapat mengatakan bahwa Pekan Suci terutama Perjamuan Terakhir, Kisah Sengsara, Wafat dan Kebangkitan adalah memori inti dan mendasar dari setiap orang Kristiani sejati.

Inilah mengapa Gereja merayakan Pekan Suci setiap tahun bukan karena ia hanya ingin mengadakan acara besar, tetapi perayaan ini menghubungkan kembali kita dengan memori inti yang menjadikan kita sebagai orang Kristiani. Namun, kita tidak hanya mengingat peristiwa masa lalu, dan kita bukan hanya sekedar penonton. Melalui kekuatan liturgi, kita menghidupkan kembali kisah-kisah mendasar tentang Yesus Kristus. Bersama dengan Kristus, kita memasuki Yerusalem. Bersama-sama dengan Dia, kita merayakan Perjamuan Terakhir. Bersama-sama dengan Dia, kita dianiaya, disalibkan dan mati. Bersama-sama dengan Dia, kita dimakamkan di makam yang gelap. Dan bersama-sama dengan Dia, kita dibangkitkan dari kematian.

Namun, itu adalah pilihan kita untuk mengikuti-Nya atau melawan-Nya: untuk menjadi orang-orang yang berseru “Hosanna” atau orang-orang yang berteriak “Salibkan Dia”; untuk menjadi seorang murid yang berjalan di jalan salib atau murid-murid yang melarikan diri dari-Nya; untuk disalibkan bersama Yesus atau untuk menyalibkan Yesus. Sekarang hanya pengikut Yesus yang benar yang dapat bersama-sama dengan Yesus dibangkitkan dari kematian. Pekan Suci adalah waktu kita untuk membuat pilihan untuk mengikuti Yesus atau untuk melawan Dia.

Diakon Valentinus Bayuhadi Rusneo, OP

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

April 9, 2017

Matthew 26:14—27:66

“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mat 27:46)”

holy week 1Many theologians and ordinary Christians alike are baffled by these words of Jesus on the cross. If Jesus is God, how is it possible for Him to be separated from God? Why does the most compassionate God abandon His beloved Son? It simply does not make any sense. The Catechism of the Catholic Church tries to explain that it is a consequence of sin. Not that Jesus had committed any sin, but He endured the sin of the world on the cross. The greatest effect of sin is separation from God. Thus, carrying the heaviest burden of sin, Jesus could not but feel the chilling effect of alienation from His own Father.

However, for early Christians and Jews who listened to the last words of Jesus on the cross, they understood that Jesus was actually reciting the beginning line of Psalm 22. The tradition considers this as a psalm of lamentation. In fact, the Book of Psalms contains a lot of psalms of lament. Despite its sorrowful nature, this kind of psalm remains true to its form, which is a prayer inspired by the Holy Spirit. Reading closely Psalm 22, we discover that the psalmist tried to express his desperate situation because of the enemies’ assault. The attack was so intense and brutal that he felt that even God abandoned him. Yet, despite the feeling of abandonment, he kept lamenting to God as if He was just near. Indeed, the psalmist was frustrated and complaining, but even this, he turned it into a prayer. Though it was the only prayer he could utter, it was an authentic prayer, without any pretension and pride. This is the paradox: when the psalmist became honest with himself and sufferings, God was closest to him.

In the cross, Jesus felt an excruciating pain both on physical and emotional levels. His triumphal entrance to Jerusalem in which He was welcomed as the King, the Son of David and Prophet, was a jubilant event, yet in a matter of days, many people who had followed Him turned to be His enemies and shouted, “Crucify Him!”. All his great successes as a preacher, teacher and wonder maker, were scattered. He was about to die as a criminal, a shame to Himself and His family. In this extreme sorrow, He decided to pray. Not any prayer, but the prayer that is most fitting to a suffering faithful Jew: a Psalm of Lament. This is the paradox of the cross: He felt abandonment and frustration, but in this prayer, this was the moment Jesus was closest to His Father.

We share also this experience of the cross in our lives. We might face terrible financial situation and uncertainty in our works. We might have health conditions that drain our resources. We might fail in our marriages or friendships. We might just lose our beloved family member. We are misunderstood and accused of wrongdoings we never committed. We might be wronged unjustly. We suddenly lose the works or the ministries we have built on for years. It seems we cannot see any light at the end of the tunnel. Yet, even in the horrifying experiences of the cross, Jesus teaches us to pray. Not any prayer, but a prayer of lamentation, a sincere prayer that expresses deepest desires, angst and pains. It is true that our situations might not change at all, but as we articulate ourselves and our situations, we are helped to find meanings, consolation, and hope. This is the paradox: in the prayer of lament, as we strip our pride and pretentiousness, even when we are in the lowest pit of our lives, God is actually closest to us.

Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

 

“Eli, Eli, lama sabakhtani?”

Hari Minggu Palma – Hari Minggu Prapaskah VI – Mengenangkan Sengsara Tuhan

April 9, 2017

Matius 26: 14-27: 66

“Eli, Eli, lama sabakhtani?” Artinya: Allah-Ku, Allah-Ku, mengapa Engkau meninggalkan Aku? (Mat 27:46)”

holy week 2Banyak teolog maupun umat awam kesulitan untuk memahami kata-kata Yesus di kayu salib ini. Jika Yesus adalah Tuhan, bagaimana mungkin Dia bisa terpisahkan dari Allah? Lalu, mengapa Allah yang penuh kasih bisa-bisanya meninggalkan Putra-Nya? Ini tidak masuk akal. Katekismus Gereja Katolik mencoba menjelaskan bahwa ini adalah konsekuensi dari dosa. Bukan karena Yesus telah melakukan dosa, tetapi Dia menanggung dosa dunia di kayu salib. Efek terbesar dari dosa adalah terpisahnya kita dari Allah. Dengan demikian, membawa beban terberat dari dosa, Yesus tidak bisa tidak merasakan efek mengerikan keterasingan dari Bapa-Nya sendiri.

Namun, bagi umat Kristiani perdana yang mendengarkan kata-kata terakhir Yesus di kayu salib ini, mereka mengerti bahwa Yesus sejatinya mendaraskan Mazmur 22. Tradisi mengkategorikan Mazmur 22 sebagai mazmur ratapan. Bahkan, Kitab Mazmur mengandung banyak mazmur ratapan. Meskipun bersifat sedih, jenis mazmur ratapan tetap merupakan sebuah doa yang terinspirasi oleh Roh Kudus. Jika kita membaca Mazmur 22 dengan teliti, kita menemukan bahwa sang pemazmur mencoba untuk mengekspresikan situasi gentingnya karena serangan musuh. Serangan itu begitu intens dan brutal sehingga ia merasa bahwa bahkan Tuhan telah meninggalkan dia. Namun, meskipun merasakan ditinggalkan, ia terus meratap dan berdoa kepada Allah seolah-olah Dia dekat dan tak pernah meninggalkannya. Memang, sang pemazmur frustrasi dan mengeluh, tapi ia mengubahnya menjadi sebuah doa. Meskipun itu satu-satunya doa yang dia daraskan, itu tetap yang doa otentik, tanpa pretensi dan keangkuhan. Inilah sebuah paradoks: ketika sang pemazmur menjadi jujur dengan dirinya sendiri, Allah menjadi sungguh dekat dengannya.

Di kayu salib, Yesus merasakan sakit yang luar biasa baik di secara fisik dan emosional. Saat Ia memasuki kota Yerusalem di mana Ia disambut sebagai Raja, Anak Daud dan Nabi, adalah peristiwa luar biasa, namun dalam hitungan hari, banyak orang yang mengikuti Dia berubah menjadi musuh-Nya dan berteriak, “Salibkan Dia!” Semua keberhasilan besar sebagai seorang pengkhotbah, guru dan pembuat muzijat, hilang dalam sekejap. Ia mati sebagai seorang kriminal, menjadi aib bagi keluarga-Nya dan bangsa-Nya. Dalam kesedihan ekstrim ini, Ia memutuskan untuk berdoa. Bukan sekedar doa, tetapi doa yang paling tepat bagi seorang Yahudi yang sedang menderita: sebuah Mazmur Ratapan. Kata-kata Mazmur 22 mengungkapkan frustrasi dan perasaan ditinggalkan oleh Allah, tetapi sebagai doa, ini sejatinya momen di mana Yesus menjadi paling dekat dengan Bapa-Nya. Ini adalah paradoks salib!

Kita juga memiliki pengalaman salib dalam hidup kita. Kita mungkin menghadapi situasi keuangan yang terpuruk dan ketidakpastian dalam pekerjaan kita. Kita mungkin memiliki kondisi kesehatan yang menguras kekuatan kita. Kita mungkin gagal dalam pernikahan atau persahabatan kita. Kita mungkin kehilangan anggota keluarga tercinta. Kita disalahpahami dan dituduh melakukan kesalahan yang tidak pernah kita perbuat. Kita mungkin diperlakukan dengan tidak adil. Kita tiba-tiba kehilangan proyek atau karya yang telah kita bangun selama bertahun-tahun. Kita tidak dapat melihat cahaya di ujung terowongan gelap ini. Namun, bahkan dalam pengalaman salib ini, Yesus mengajarkan kita untuk berdoa. Tidak sekedar doa, tapi doa ratapan, doa yang tulus yang mengungkapkan keinginan, kecemasan dan sakit kita yang terdalam. Memang benar bahwa situasi kita mungkin tidak berubah sama sekali, tapi saat kita bisa mengartikulasikan diri kita dan situasi kita, kita dibantu untuk menemukan makna, penghiburan, dan harapan. Dalam doa ratapan, kita melucuti pretensi dan keangkuhan kita. Inilah paradoks: bahkan di dalam doa ratapan, ketika kita berada di jurang terdalam kehidupan kita, Tuhan sebenarnya paling dekat dengan kita.

Frater Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP