Take with you words, and return to the LORD; Say to him, “Forgive all iniquity, and receive what is good.” (Hos. 14:2)
As consoling as it is to know that our God of all mercies forgives ours sins if we return to Him with humble, contrite hearts, this passage from Hosea seems to offer us little consolation with regard to our loved ones who ignore or even reject the call of repentance. What will become of them? We shudder to think of the unspeakable possibility.
St. John of God was born in 1495 on the exact date in which he died in 1550: March 8th. By the end of his life, John had reached a height of heroic sanctity matched by few. But while John of God is remembered by the Church as a saint…his life certainly did not start out that way.
When he was eight years old, he listened to a powerful sermon by a traveling priest about the adventures that awaited in what was then known as the “New World.” Little John was so caught up with the idea that he impulsively ran away from home to follow the priest, never to been seen by his parents again.
Now we must not mistake John’s rash action for holy “zeal.” This was a child who took off without his parents’ permission, perhaps without even a “good-bye” or a word about where he was going, leaving his family to agonize over their son—for the rest of their lives. John’s mother would have gone to bed every night, imagining the worst. Had her child been kidnapped? Tortured and beaten? Sold into slavery? Was her son dead?
Alas, she would never know the answers to these questions in her lifetime. By the time John came back to search for his parents decades later, both had long since died.
As a soldier, John took to gambling, drinking, and pillaging. Then, one day, while riding a stolen horse, John was thrown off its back, landing near enemy lines. This was the moment that changed his life forever.
The terrifying reality that he could have easily been captured or killed was the wake-up call that compelled him to take a good, hard look at his life. In so doing, he vowed, then and there, to make a change. It was a change that was both radical and permanent: John’s impulsiveness had finally transformed into spiritual zeal. He went from sinner to saint—just like that.
So what does John’s miraculous transformation have to do with the straying souls in our lives who have not experienced this same “instant” conversion? What if they show no signs of converting at all?
We must remember, at one point in his life, John showed no such signs either. His life of debauchery, for all intents and purposes, made the possibility of holiness seem hopeless. But because he was “called according to [God’s] purpose” (Rom. 8:28), God would see to it that John’s life would not end the way it had begun.
But we must also understand that for John, conversion was not easy. The Lord stirred John to repentance not by coddling him along the way, but rather, by leaving him to his “own devices” (Jer. 18:12), that the natural consequences of his own actions might eventually end the only way such sinful actions can: in disaster. John was brought low—quite literally, by being thrown off a horse and landing at the feet of the enemy. John learned the hard way.
And so it is for any of us who are called to repentance but obstinately refuse to learn by way of obedience and humility. Just because we might strive to follow this path does not mean that everyone we love will choose the same path. But we can rest assured, if they choose the path of disobedience and pride, though their choices might lead them to disaster in this life, the Father’s intention is that they live with Him forever in the next.
I have humbled him, but I will prosper him. I am like a verdant cypress tree—Because of me you bear fruit! (Hos. 14:8)
Now, as wonderful a sentiment as this is, how do we know that it is not conjecture? What “guarantee” do we have that the “pre-saints” in our lives will have the same conversion experience as that of St. John of the Cross, so that their lives do not end in disaster for eternity? How do we know that they, like John, are called according to God’s purpose? Well, if we look back at John’s parents—who, quite frankly, we know next to nothing about—we find one critical detail about their relationship with John that played a pivotal role in the trajectory of his life:
Fond memories of his parents is all that kept the spark of faith alive in his heart.
We can assume that John’s parents loved him dearly if he kept those treasured memories of them throughout his life’s journey. Interestingly, we are not told that the fond memories of his parents kept John’s love for them alive; rather, that it kept his “faith” alive.
What does this tell us? It tells us that John’s parents were people of faith. As such, what would they have been doing ceaselessly, day in and day out, assaulted by the overwhelming temptation to worry, to think the worst, without a word from anyone as to what might have happened to their son in all those many years? Praying. It would have been their prayer, faithfully carried out throughout a dark period in their lives, that kept the ember of faith alive in the heart of their son, preparing him to receive and accept the transforming grace of God in that decisive, turning-point moment.
In their own lifetime, John’s parents never saw the fruit of their perseverance; it is possible they never even saw a single sign of hope. Their terrible, agonizing sacrifice, offered for their son, and united to the Cross, was the price to pay for his sin. John’s parents would have taken upon themselves the burden of debt on behalf of their child; and God would have accepted it as payment. The debt John owed was paid for by his parents in the divine recompense of love.
May we, too, hold onto hope for our loved ones, even if we do not know where their hearts are right now. We can leave the “knowing” to Jesus, who arranges all things to work for good (Rom. 8:28). In the meantime, our job is to trust…which is a job that can only take place in a darkness through which we cannot see. Our trust is what will keep the embers alive in the hearts of our straying loved ones, that they might be open to receiving the grace of God on the day it comes knocking at their door.
Author’s Note: This article was adapted from an excerpt in 26 Steps with the Saints: Examining the Lives of the Holy Ones.
Photo by Ferdinand Stöhr on Unsplash
