Be Vigilant

Come Lord Jesus!

by Father Brian J. Soliven on Sunday December 1, 2024

Is prayer a waste of time? At times, it can certainly feel that way, especially when we pray fervently for a particular outcome, only to face silence in return. We cry out in our deepest need, yet hear nothing but the echoes of our own voices. In those moments, many of us have wondered, in desperation, “God, are you even listening?” It's only human to feel disheartened, even the most devoted believer may struggle with doubt and discouragement. Yet, despite those feelings, the truth remains: prayer is never wasted. In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives us a powerful reminder of this enduring truth. He commands us, not just to pray, but to be vigilant—to stay steadfast in prayer, even when the path feels uncertain. His words are clear and compelling: “Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.

This is not a call to give up when challenges arise, but an invitation to press on with unwavering faith. The journey of a Christian toward heaven is a path that unfolds through faith alone—it is not a choice but a necessity. On this path, darkness will sometimes loom, and doubt may whisper in our hearts. This echoes the words of St. Paul to the Corinthians: “We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.” The experience of spiritual dryness, that feeling of distance from God, has been felt by saints throughout history, from the great mystics like St. John of the Cross to more recent witnesses like Mother Teresa. St. Thérèse of Lisieux, too, followed this same arduous yet transformative journey.

In the opening of her AutobiographyThe Story of a Soul, St. Thérèse reveals the profound inner desolation she faced: “I should have spoken to you about the retreat preceding my Profession, dear Mother, before speaking about the trial I have mentioned; it was far from bringing me any consolations, since the most absolute aridity and almost total abandonment were my lot.” In those moments, any sense of God’s closeness had vanished. The comfort that her faith once offered seemed distant, a mere memory.

Yet, in the depths of this darkness, St. Thérèse was not abandoned. Her journey was not shaped by the fleeting emotions we so often rely on but by a deeper, unshakable truth: God’s presence is not defined by our feelings. The intimate relationship she had once felt with the Heavenly Father, the tender love revealed in Jesus, seemed to fade, but in truth, God was calling her to something more profound. This was a new stage of spirituality, one that saints before her had walked. It was the invitation to live by pure faith, to trust in God not because of what we feel, but because of who He is.

St. Thérèse’s experience reminds us all that faith is not always about comfort or consolation—it is about the courage to press forward, even when we cannot see the way. It is in these moments, when the path is unclear, that we are called to walk not by sight, but by faith alone. And in this, we find a deeper connection with God, a stronger, more resilient faith that cannot be shaken by the shifting sands of our emotions. This is the true strength of the Christian journey.

 The great saint writes: “God permitted my soul to be invaded by the thickest darkness, and that the thought of heaven, up until then so sweet to me, be no longer anything but the cause of struggle and torment. This trial was to last not a few days or a few weeks, it was not be extinguished until the hour set by God Himself and this hour has not yet come. I saw very clearly the beacon that was announcing to me heaven’s port; but now I no longer see anything. It’s as if my eyes were blindfolded. That day I saw the Thief; at present I no longer see anything at all. What anyone says to me about death no longer penetrates; it slides over me as it would over smooth glass. It’s finished! The hope of death is all used up…. God wills that I abandon myself like a very little child who is not disturbed by what others will do to him.”