In Weakness, Power Reaches Perfection

By De. Jack Ligon

Often, we get frustrated with the way things are going in our efforts to evangelize, and try to use power or even violence in this the best of causes. Over 30 years ago, I remember twisting my wife Peggy's arm pretty hard to get her to make Cursillo. In the epistle for week 14 this year, St. Paul startles us with the boast that when he is powerless, then he is strong, because then the power of Christ can rest upon him. This reading caused me to reflect on a recent visit to England.

Stone is very plentiful in England, so it is used in the construction of houses, palaces, forts and churches. England is blessed with many large, beautiful and ancient churches and cathedrals, so any visit there is a potential pilgrimage. Upon my return from the visit, I asked myself when and in which of these churches was I most aware of the presence of Christ. I found the magnificent, ancient cathedrals of Norman and Gothic architecture, with their stained glass windows, to be very awesome. I got dizzy just looking up to the ceilings in some of them. Some were in good repair; others were dirty and crumbling. Usually those in the best condition, and those that were most gloriously adorned, were filled with monuments to the rich and powerful and famous. They were fabulous architectural and museum experiences, but I felt no particular closeness to Christ in any of them.

St. Margaret's Chapel in the Castle of Edinborough was built in the 12th Century when Scotland was a Catholic country, and was put out of service during the Reformation. For more than 300 years, it was used for storage and other utilitarian purposes, the last being as a magazine for storage of gunpowder. In the last century, it was restored to its original purpose. For me, the presence of Christ in this simple, tiny room was stronger than in the mightiest of the Cathedrals.

Iona is a small island off the West Coast of Scotland. It was the place that St. Columba established a monastery that preserved Christianity during the dark ages, and was a base for spreading Christianity to Northern Europe and the British Isles. The Benedictines later built a monastery and convent there, which were destroyed during the Reformation. The convent is still a ruin, and it is a beautiful spot for prayer and contemplation. Several Church of Scotland clergy began rebuilding the monastery church in the 1930's, hoping to restore some sort of monastic life there, for it was certainly a tangibly holy place. Today, most of the monastery has been rebuilt, but more importantly it now is home to a religious community: international, ecumenical, men and women, clergy and laity, married and single -- an attempt to give a modern form to classic religious community life. The presence of Christ was strong in the church, but it was amplified for me by the new religious life emerging from the ruins.

Coventry cathedral was destroyed by bombing in World War II. The church there decided not to attempt to rebuild, but to leave the ruins there as reminder of the cost of war. Over the years, it has become a memorial to reconciliation. There is a monument where the Germans express their sorrow for bombing the cathedral, and the British express their sorrow at the bombing they did. There is a cross, made of the remains of some of the twisted steel beams that had been used to reinforce the cathedral; and nearby the words: "Father, forgive." Peggy and I could not speak as we walked around the bombed-out shell of the cathedral, but when we got outside, we discovered that it had the same strong impact on each of us. It was our moment closest. Reconciliation emerging from ruins.

In these three church buildings, there was a profound strength in the presence of Christ bringing forth new life from destruction and weakness. In their light, we can see that the ruins of our apostolic failures can lead to Christ's successes. It is not the violence of our power, wealth, numbers, perfection, or knowledge that will elicit faith. Rather it is acceptance of our weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions and constraints for the sake of Christ, in order that Christ may dwell within us. For when we are powerless, then we are strong.

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