[Pearls Episode 143: Preparing for Sunday.]
As we look ahead to Sunday’s scripture, there are a number of major spiritual themes playing out in the story of Zacchaeus.
We noted yesterday that he was “vertically challenged” – and that kept him from seeing Jesus.
The Church Fathers (who we’ll hear more from in a moment) saw this as a key question for each of us – what keeps us from seeing Christ?
Steve can have quite a temper – when his fuse gets lit, he’s seeing red, not Christ.
Karen has a strong stubborn streak – when someone tells her what to do (except her perfect husband, of course…), even if it’s a good suggestion, she’s not so much looking for Christ in that person as she is thinking about doing the exact opposite.
This boils down to identifying our core wound. Or, wounds – Steve grapples with more than just being a hothead. But for most of us there is just one or two of the 7 deadly sins that tend to derail us.
Recall from prior posts that our core wound is principally a spiritual wound – our particular scar from original sin. In the postscript we look again at practical ways to identify our core wound.
It’s important to get this right, because in the spiritual life we are only as strong as our weakest link. This is different than in worldly affairs. If math is your Achilles’ heal, you can go into a line of work that requires nothing you can’t do on a Casio calculator (remember those?). But in the spiritual life, there’s no way to run from our core wound. The enemy won’t let us – he is a “prowling lion” – and what is he prowling for is our weakest point of entry.
Knowing our core wound is the first half of the battle. The other half, where victory is found, is doing like Zacchaeus – climbing our spiritual sycamore tree. From the Fathers:
- In no other way can a person see Christ and believe in Him except by climbing up into the sycamore, by making foolish his earthly members of fornication, uncleanness, etc. – St. Cyril of Alexandria
- Let Zacchaeus grasp the sycamore tree, and let the humble person climb the cross. That is little enough, merely to climb it. – St. Augustine
There you have it – we must “climb our sycamore tree” … which is to embrace our cross … which is to embrace whatever is the remedy for our core wound. This includes not putting ourselves in a position to be tempted, and to practice opposing virtues, and to have accountability partners – especially the accountability partner par excellence – Christ himself in the Sacrament of reconciliation.
And then what happens? We start seeing Christ, even in situations that would otherwise push our buttons.
And that isn’t just spiritual mumbo jumbo. When you find yourself naturally offering a prayer for someone instead of going straight to Defcon 1, you can’t help but recognize Christ in action. Especially when it happens without 300 hours of counseling and a cornucopia of pharmaceuticals.
This Sunday’s scripture is an invitation to renew our efforts to work with God to root out our core wound. In fact, this theme is repeated several times during the year – it’s that important. In fact, it’s Jesus’ way of saying, as He said to Zacchaeus, “for today I must stay at your house.”
Blessings on your journey with Christ –
Steve and Karen Smith
Interior Life
Postscript: Two practical methods to unearth our core wound.
We go into core wounds in much more detail in the 5 Days to Spiritual Vaccination and 30 Days to Christian Meditation retreats in the mobile app, but here are very practical approaches from two of the great ones:
From Venerable Fulton Sheen – “The quickest way to discover the predominant fault is to ask yourself, ‘What do I think about most when alone? Where do my thoughts go when I let them go spontaneously?’” Yes, he’s talking about our predominant fault (or “core wound”, or “root sin”) – but most of our attachment grow from the fetid soil of our predominant fault.
From St. Thomas Aquinas – what causes us irrational anger or sorrow? Aquinas asks this question in the context of discovering unhealthy attachments, but it certainly applies to our core wound which is, in a sense, our attachment muy grande.