VOICE OF THE LOGOS (9): REFLECTION/HOMILY FOR TUESDAY OF THE SEVENTH WEEK IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR I

The idea of suffering as a test of loyalty is not just uncomfortable; it is outright infuriating for many. If God is all-knowing, why does He put people through hardship as if He does not already know their hearts? Shouldn’t an all-powerful and all-seeing God be able to discern who is faithful without dragging them through fire? This question is even more disturbing when we observe the reality of life: the righteous suffer while the wicked thrive, corruption pays off, and prayers for relief often go unanswered. The assumption that suffering is a divine test is deeply controversial, not just because it challenges human reasoning but because it seems to contradict God’s own justice. If suffering is meant to refine faith, then why do so many good people break under its weight, while those with no regard for God appear to flourish? This dilemma has caused many to either doubt God’s goodness or abandon faith altogether.

The First Reading (Sirach 2:1-11) directly confronts this issue, beginning with a clear warning: “My child, if you come to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for an ordeal.” This is not a possibility but a certainty. The passage does not promise comfort to those who seek God, nor does it suggest that faith will lead to immediate blessings. Instead, it declares that faith brings testing, as if suffering is an initiation process for those who dare to follow God. The Hebrew concept at play here is “נִסָּיוֹן” (Nissayon), which means “test” or “trial,” but not in the sense of finding out something unknown. In Jewish thought, a “נִסָּיוֹן” is not about God learning something new about a person, but about the person proving their faith in real circumstances. It is experiential knowledge, a faith that is refined not in words but in action. The same root appears in Genesis 22:1, when God “tests” Abraham by asking him to sacrifice Isaac. God did not test Abraham to learn if he was faithful, He tested him so that Abraham’s faith could manifest in reality, in action, in choice.

This reading forces us to face an unsettling truth: faith is meaningless until it is tested. Words are easy. It is simple to declare loyalty to God when there is no risk. But when suffering comes, when prayer seems unanswered, when the world turns against us, that is when faith is revealed for what it truly is. Many claim to trust God, but the real test comes when trusting Him is no longer comfortable or rewarding. This is why Sirach insists that those who serve God must be prepared, because the path of faith is not one of mere belief but of endurance, refinement, and purification.

The Responsorial Psalm (Ps. 37:3-4, 18-19, 27-28, 39-40) builds upon this theme, presenting the contrast between the righteous and the wicked. At first glance, the psalm appears to contradict reality—it speaks of how the Lord protects the just, does not abandon them, and grants them deliverance. But experience tells us otherwise: how many faithful people have suffered injustice? How many prayers have seemingly gone unanswered? How many good people have perished without relief? The key to understanding this Psalm lies in the word “בָּטַח” (Batach), meaning “to trust” or “to place confidence in.” The psalmist is not claiming that suffering does not happen to the righteous, but that in the full scope of divine justice, God does not abandon His own. The emphasis is not on immediate deliverance but on enduring trust. This is where many struggle: trusting God when His promises seem delayed, distant, or hidden behind suffering. Faith is easy when rewards are visible; trust is tested when everything appears to be falling apart.

The Gospel (Mark 9:30-37) takes this concept to its most radical expression. Jesus, after predicting His suffering and death, finds His disciples arguing, not about faith, not about endurance, but about who among them is the greatest. Their mindset is the exact opposite of what Jesus is teaching. While He speaks of sacrifice, trials, and the ultimate test of faith, they are focused on status, power, and recognition. The Greek term used in this passage, “δοκιμάζω” (Dokimazō), means “to test or to prove genuine.” Just as Sirach describes faith being tested like gold in fire, Jesus presents His own upcoming suffering as the ultimate test, not just for Him, but for His followers. The disciples expect a Messiah of power, but Jesus reveals a Messiah of suffering. They expect victory through dominance, but Jesus teaches that true greatness is found in servanthood, humility, and endurance.

Jesus’ response to their argument is not just a correction, it is a complete reversal of human thinking. He places a child in their midst and declares that whoever welcomes the least is the greatest in the kingdom of God. In a society where children had no status or authority, this was an outrageous statement. But Jesus is lay emphasis on the same truth found in Sirach and the Psalms: God’s ways are not like human ways. Faith is not about rising in power, but about enduring in humility. The test of true discipleship is not in gaining influence, but in remaining faithful even when suffering strips everything away.

This reading challenges modern Christianity’s obsession with success, prosperity, and influence. Many expect faith to bring blessings, but resent faith when it brings trials. Many want God’s rewards, but few want God’s discipline. Many seek spiritual comfort, but avoid spiritual testing. Jesus’ words expose this false religion of convenience—true faith is not about status, self-promotion, or personal gain. It is about embracing the cross not as a metaphor, but as a lived reality.

The practical lessons from these readings are disturbing but necessary. Faith that is never tested is not faith at all – it is only belief in theory. Suffering does not mean God has abandoned us; it means our faith is being made real. Those who seek God’s will must understand that His way often leads through trials, rejection, and loss, because faith must be proven, not just professed. Jesus Himself did not escape suffering; He embraced it, showing that the greatest test of all is trusting God even when the cost is everything.

So why does God test us? Not because He is unsure of our faith, but because we must come to know the depth of our own trust in Him. The test is not for God, it is for us. When suffering comes, will we cling to Him or abandon Him? When faith is no longer easy, will we still believe? When trials break everything we once depended on, will we still stand with Him? These are the questions that define true faith. And they can only be answered in the fire of testing.