Tags
Christ washing feet of disciples, Christian life, Christianity, faith, Holy Week, Love of Christ
So much of the Christian life seems to be about “going out”. We are called to go out to proclaim the good news. We go out to share Christ’s love. We go out to serve others. This is good and authentic to our faith and it is the mandate that Christ has given us as Church to proclaim the good news to the ends of the earth.
That being said, it is interesting to note that Holy Week – the most sacred days of our year as Christians – is a time of “gathering in”. This is appropriate and right, I believe, because Jesus, himself, wants this time with his disciples. More than just a remembering on our part; Jesus desires to spend these days with us.
In chapter thirteen of John’s Gospel we read the evangelist’s account of the Last Supper. John begins by setting the context as being the time of the celebration of Passover. More so than the great Jewish feast; this is to be the time when our Lord will “pass over” death in order to return to the Father in triumph. Certainly our Lord is preparing himself for the hour which has arrived but, important to note, he is also much concerned to prepare his disciples. He knows that they will be tested over the next few days, he knows that one will betray him, that one will deny him and that they will flee and be afraid. He also knows that eventually they will be sent out into the whole earth to proclaim the good news. Jesus knows the weakness, limits and confusion of his disciples yet he loves them. Before the festival of the Passover, Jesus, knowing that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father, having loved those who were his in the world, loved them to the end. (Jn. 13:1)
Scholars suggest that the Greek term “to the end” has two connotations. It can mean, “to the end of his life” and it can also mean, “to the very limit, the very maximum, of love”. Christ loves his disciples, his “little ones” to the fullest extent and he greatly desires to spend this time with them.
There is a great tenderness of love that is being expressed in the account of the Last Supper. Jesus takes the role of the servant when he washes his disciples’ feet. Peter knows that this is a fundamental break with the prevailing custom of the time. It was the role of the servant, the slave to wash the feet of the guests not the role of the head of the household. Yet, Jesus is the head of the household who is willing to serve and he tells his disciples that they must do the same. They do not fully understand now but they will later. More than just a nice symbol, token or remembrance, this call to serve and die to self is the royal road on which the disciple directly encounters our Lord.
I give you a new commandment: love one another; you must love one another just as I have loved you. It is by your love for one another, that everyone will recognize you as my disciples. (Jn. 13:34-35) The love that we must have as Christians must be based in that very love that Christ has for us and it is in this love particularly that his little ones will be recognized as his disciples.
At this point Peter asks a question from which we all benefit; Simon Peter said, “Lord, where are your going?” Jesus replied, “Now you cannot follow me where I am going, but later you shall follow me.” Peter said to him, “Why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” “Lay down your life for me?” answered Jesus. “In all truth I tell you, before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.” (Jn. 13:36-38)
“Now you cannot follow me where I am going, but later you shall follow me.” Yes, later Peter will follow our Lord to the sacrifice of his own life and beyond that to the glory of eternity with God but there is another, even more fundamental, following implied here. Peter must first learn the way of love that our Lord has initiated at the Last Supper. Peter (the little one who balked at having his feet washed) is not yet ready to learn this true extent of love that the disciple of Christ is to be recognized by but he will be ready later. And it is by the royal road of this love that Peter will later be able to then let go of his very self, even to the point of death.
We are all so much like Peter. We all think we have so much figured out yet, in truth, we all have so much to learn but Christ loves us to the end.
These days are more than just a remembrance. These days are more than something we do to acknowledge our faith. Christ, our Lord, desires to spend these days with us.
Christ gathers us in and Christ loves us to the end.
Jewish midrash is a way of interpreting Hebrew Scripture that seeks to fill in the gaps and therefore bring forth truths of faith. A midrash on the scene of God appearing to Moses in the burning bush that we heard in the first reading (Ex. 3:1-8a,13-15) holds that the bush had thorns. God witnessed the suffering of the Hebrew people in Egypt, their daily struggle and pain, and therefore God chose to reveal Himself to Moses in the midst of a thorn bush to show that He is a God who is present in the midst of the suffering of his people.
hrist comes to reveal the truth of who God is and to call us into relationship with Him because here and only here is where we will find true life. What choice will we make? We each have only so many days allotted us.
On January 31st, the Church will celebrate the Feast of St. John Bosco – a man who devoted his life to helping young people. One of the greatest blessings of our Christian faith is the witness of men and women throughout history who let go of their own needs and worked tirelessly for the good of youth and those generations who were to come after them. The witness of these men and women should call us, as the Church, into a reflection on how best to minister to youth and young adults, especially in a time and culture that is “youth obsessed”. We can readily see how this obsession plays itself out in all areas of society – the entertainment and news media industry, politics, sports, education, relationships – just to name a few. A fair question is how might this “obsession with youth” bleed into and perhaps even negatively influence the Church’s own ministry to youth and young adults just as they are seeking to claim their own Christian faith and discipleship and how might we best avoid the danger of this obsession?
There is much worthy of reflecting upon in today’s gospel (Jn. 2:1-11) which gives the account of our Lord’s first public miracle – the turning of water into wine and the wedding in Cana. We can see in the image of the couple running out of wine on their wedding day a symbol of the ending of the Old Covenant and the freshness of the New Covenant beginning with our Lord turning water into wine. We can see in Mary’s noticing of the wine running short a concern for the young (and probably poor) couple who will soon be greatly embarrassed by not being able to provide for their guests. The first step of true mercy is noticing needs and not being indifferent toward others in their plight. This is a good witness Mary gives us during this Year of Mercy.
My father was brought up in a Presbyterian household although how staunch it was is open for debate. A story I once heard was of an exchange which occurred sometime after my father’s conversion when my two great aunts from Mississippi made a visit to my grandfather and grandmother. Noticing a little dust on the family Bible one aunt is said to have remarked, “Maybe if that Bible was not dusty, Jack would never have converted.” A number of years later my own aunt (my father’s sister) would tell these same two great-aunts, “Michael has decided to enter Catholic seminary and we are very proud.” The southern equivalent of drawing a line in the sand!
My mother did not grow up in affluence as my father did. Her childhood was spent in a small town in North Carolina. Nominally, I believe that she was raised Baptist but it seems that church was not a major factor in her younger years. She did once tell me that for a while she worked at a local Methodist retreat center frequented by the young (and then single) Billy Graham. “All the young ladies would swoon over him,” my mom once confided. She never said if she was one of the ones swooning. Right out of high school my mother left Brevard to work in book-keeping for a man who owned a number of hotels scattered around the southeast. Mr. Faw was a good man. He looked like Colonel Sanders, the founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken, and for the fun of it would sometimes dress like the fast food icon just to see people’s reaction. Mrs. Faw was of Eastern European descent and she once gave my mother an eighteenth century lithograph of the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus. My mother treasured this gift and today it hangs on my wall.
At one point (prior to marrying my father) my mother was sent to a hotel owned by Mr. Faw in Oak Ridge, TN. At that time it was the only hotel in the city and therefore the temporary residence of visiting scientists from all over the world who came to do work and research in the government-run laboratories. My mother met a wide variety of people those years and at one point was approached by the FBI to help keep tabs on a visiting couple that the government thought had Russian connections. For this effort my mother received a signed letter from J. Edgar Hoover thanking her for her service to her country. One scientist my mother met and became a good friend of was a Franciscan nun from the Northeast. She taught at a university and had come to Oak Ridge to do some research. She and my mother remained friends for many years and I do believe that her friendship and that of Mr. and Mrs. Faw were what helped my mother in recognizing the beauty of the Catholic faith which, in turn, enabled her to make the choice to become Catholic.
My father and mother each walked their own journey of life and of faith (like we all do) but through their journeys and their own reflecting on experiences (i.e. use of the illative sense) they both came to belief in God and in the Church. I do not know all the experiences that added up to their each making their choice for faith. I never will and that is probably for the best. There are some things rightly left between the soul and God alone. These are and will remain the missing jigsaw pieces of their own journeys but I must admit that I do take great delight when I hear a story or memory shared that sheds a little more light on the journey each one had. These insights bring me joy and, I believe, are gifts given to help us who remain to continue our own journeys of life and faith.
Some of the best advice I ever came across regarding homily preparation was in an essay written by Annie Dillard. In the essay Dillard made use of the imagery of following bees as a way of exploring the adventure of writing. If you want to find a bee hive (and honey) then follow a bee. If you lose sight of the first bee then wait and when you catch sight of another bee follow it. By so doing you will eventually be led to the bee hive. The same is true for writing. When an idea or thought, no matter how strange or non-sensical it seems at the outset, pops in your head then follow it. Let the thought lead you even if you do not know exactly where it is going. It may take you to where you want to go. If it takes you only so far then stay there and wait for the next thought.
Two things struck me as I prayed over the gospel this past week. The first is when Luke tells us that Mary entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. I found myself returning again and again to that scene in my imagination. How joy-filled it must have been! Mary stepping into this house which for too long had been barren of the sound of new life, the sound of children. Elizabeth said that the child in her womb leapt for joy at the sound of Mary’s greeting – a confirmation of what the angel had promised Zechariah. What was thought barren will now bring forth life and it will be a life that, in turn, will proclaim the coming of the Messiah! For nothing is impossible to God.
The week before the first Sunday of Advent I ventured into a local craft store in search of Advent candles. After inquiry, a sales associate led me to the candles. We passed one, then two, then three, four and five full aisles of Christmas decorations. Arriving at the last row she pointed to a small stack of Advent candles on the bottom corner of a shelf. Quite sad in comparison. I cannot help but reflect on the symbolism. As I write this reflection there has been yet another mass shooting in our country. I do not make this jump from searching for Advent candles to a mass shooting in order to be flippant or sensational, I share it because I believe Advent offers needed lessons for our world today but honestly I fear these lessons may fall on deaf ears because they will require work, sacrifice and even risk on our part.
At one point in his commentary on this Sunday’s Responsorial Psalm (Ps. 93), St. Augustine shares this observation: Humble people are like rock. Rock is something you look down on, but it is solid. What about the proud? They are like smoke; they may be rising high, but they vanish as they rise. 
The Alternate Path 