Last November 11, while waiting to begin my last talk for the annual retreat of the Marian Missionaries of the Holy Cross, we learned that one of our brother priests in the congregation, Fr. Gerard Tanguilig, passed away in his sleep. He was missed during prayers and breakfast, which led to the discovery of this tragic event. Early the next day, while sitting in vigil with his remains in our seminary chapel, I tried to make sense of what happened the past day. It was 4:30 in the morning and Fr. Gerard’s distraught family had already left and the rest of the community had gone to bed. One of the seminarians kept vigil with me and, in our conversation, he asked what I felt when I learned about the sudden death. The first thing that entered my mind were the words: “Life is absurd.”
It was a shocking moment. The joys of the previous evening simply evaporated. Here was a priest who was just ordained two months ago at the age of thirty-one: enthusiastic, well-loved, and promising. The circumstances of his death were of biblical proportions, something that would make the Lord stop in his tracks, for he was the only son of a widowed mother (see Luke 7:12). The pain of this loss was so palpable on the faces of my brother priests who felt that sudden blow.
Yes, life is absurd. However, allow me to put some context to that statement. It was part of my concluding remarks in my retreat talk the night before. I was expounding on our congregational spirituality, and I was wrapping it up with a reflection on our congregational motto: Gaudium in Cruce, “Joy in the Cross.” I was able to see the notes Fr. Gerard had written of that talk—he was an excellent scribe—and the last two lines he wrote read: “Life is absurd, but you know God is there. There is joy in the cross.” My comment on life being absurd is based on what Karl Rahner, the eminent Catholic theologian of the twentieth century, wrote in his treatise about laughter. He wrote that liberating laughter springs from a childlike and joyous heart, a heart that can take anything and see anything the way it is. This includes the ridiculous and the comical as something to laugh about. This laughter may sound insensitive to the grieving, but for us grappling for meaning, we know that this does not come immediately. In this moment of pain and confusion, this utterly ridiculous death simply stuns the heart with grief.
Where do we find joy in our crosses—our own experiences of suffering and loss? This is to be found in the passing of time and with eyes keen on finding God’s presence in everything. In time we can discover where God was amid absurdity. Isn’t the Cross a symbol of contradiction, a sign of absurdity itself? And nailed on the cross of Calvary was the source of meaning, Jesus Christ himself. In the crosses that he lovingly asked us to bear, whatever they may be, our faith informs us that God is always present. In his presence, we find our peace, we find our joy. May we have the patient endurance to discover the light of his presence in all things, even in the ridiculousness of seemingly senseless loss.
Fr. John Cordero, MMHC
