Thoughts on Holy Monday

 

Monday of Holy Week

John 12:1–11

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Mary of Bethany anoints Jesus’ feet with perfumed oil, preparing him for burial. This gesture—wasting something as expensive as an entire jar of perfume—is sniffed at by Judas, who complains that, at the very least, the nard could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Why does John use this tale to preface his telling of the Passion? Why does he allow the odor of this woman’s perfume to waft, as it were, over the whole of the story? It is because, I believe, this extravagant gesture shows forth the meaning of what Jesus is about to do: the absolutely radical giving away of self.  There is nothing calculating, careful, or conservative about the woman’s action. Flowing from the deepest place in the heart, religion resists the strictures set for it by a fussily moralizing reason (on full display in those who complain about the woman’s extravagance). At the climax of his life, Jesus will give himself away totally, lavishly, unreasonably—and this is why Mary’s beautiful gesture is a sort of overture to the opera that will follow. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on Holy Week

During Holy Week, the holiest of all weeks, Christians are confronted with the suffering and death of a Christ who was crucified. How do we imagine the death of Jesus?

My own imagining of the death of Jesus was transformed about 15 years ago when, while living in Madrid, I had the opportunity for the first time to visit the family castle of the great Jesuit missionary St. Francis Xavier in the Spanish region called Navarre.  In a small chapel within the castle there is a crucifix, probably dating from the 13th century.  (Xavier himself lived from 1506-1552.)  On that cross, the suffering of Jesus is clear: Jesus is stripped, arms outstretched, head crowned with thorns and, of course, he is nailed to the wood.  But his face is unusual.  Rather than pictured as wracked with pain, he is depicted as peaceful and serene.

That sculpture is known as “the smiling Christ.”  Perhaps that seems shocking or even blasphemous; however, it seems to me that it points to a deep insight.

We may never be called upon to suffer and die as did Jesus Christ or the Christian martyrs.  Yet the liturgies of Holy Week remind us that the Cross is the only way to life.  For those who are faithful, Good Friday leads to Easter Sunday.  The smiling Christ points to a loving Father, who at the moment of deepest suffering reaches out in love to accept the life and work of his Beloved Son.  Love triumphs over death.

The Christian life does not promise us freedom from suffering, but reveals a more significant truth... it is through suffering that we are saved.  And, as Paul reminds us in his letter to the Romans, nothing can separate us from the love of God that comes to us in Christ, not trial, not distress, not persecution, not death. 

May the many “faces” of Christ which we observe during this holiest of weeks, lead us to the full joy and peace which came to be his own and which is meant to be ours as well because of what he has done for us. 

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Thoughts on the cross

 

John 8:21–30

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus predicts his death on the cross. We are meant to see on that cross not simply a violent display, but rather our own ugliness. What brought Jesus to the cross? Stupidity, anger, mistrust, institutional injustice, betrayal of a friend, denial, unspeakable cruelty, scapegoating, fear, etc. In other words, all of our dysfunction is revealed on that cross.  So far so awful. But we can’t stop telling the story at this point. Dante and every other spiritual master knew that the only way up is down. When we live in convenient darkness, unaware of our sins, we will never make spiritual progress. So we need the light, however painful it is. But then we can begin to rise.  On the cross of Jesus, we meet our own sin. But we also meet the divine mercy that has taken that sin upon himself in order to swallow it up. We have found, in that cross, the way up. We want to hold up this thing that was considered too horrible to look at. We want to embrace and kiss the very source of our pain. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on sin

 

John 7:40–53

Friends, we see in today’s Gospel how Jesus’ preaching caused division. Some hearers believed him, but others wanted to arrest him. The life, preaching, and mission of Jesus are predicated upon the assumption that all is not well with us, that we stand in need of a renovation of vision, attitude, and behavior. A few decades ago, the book I’m OK—You’re OK appeared. Its title, and the attitude that it embodies, are inimical to Christianity.  The fact of sin is so often overlooked today. Look, no one has ever savored being accused of sin, but especially in our culture now there is an allergy to admitting personal fault.  A salvation religion makes no sense if all is basically fine with us, if all we need is a little sprucing up around the edges. Christian saints are those who can bear the awful revelation that sin is not simply an abstraction or something that other people wrestle with, but a power that lurks and works in them. When we lose sight of sin, we lose sight of Christianity, which is a salvation religion. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on justice

God is just; God is merciful.

 

The Gospel for the 5^th Sunday of Lent takes place in Jerusalem, in the temple where Jesus had been teaching. In front of the eager crowds listening to Jesus, his enemies bring forward a woman caught in adultery, the penalty for which was death by stoning.  These opponents want to use the occasion to embarrass Jesus, since he had the well-deserved reputation of proclaiming God’s mercy toward sinners. The trap is clear.  If Jesus takes the side of the adulterous woman, he is open to the charge of ignoring God’s law and God’s justice.  If he insists on following the Law exactly, his reputation as a prophet of God’s mercy becomes questionable.

 

In response, Jesus, wise and merciful, devises a way to get the woman out of the situation, saving her life and letting her begin over again.  In doing so, he emphasizes the mercy of God, but he also upholds the justice of God. He does not reject the biblical commandment against adultery. We don’t know what Jesus was writing on the ground, but we do know that Jesus gives an unexpected answer to his enemies, and that response suggests a totally different way of looking at the situation.  He delivers a sharp challenge, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”  His words have the effect of turning the accusers’ attention back on themselves, making them realize that they too are sinners. In his parting words to the woman, Jesus again manifests both mercy and justice.  He first says to her, “Neither do I condemn you,” upholding the mercy of God.  Then he adds, “From now on do not sin anymore.”

 

Jesus knows what sin is, and he does not shrink from calling certain actions “sins.”  He recognizes that some actions are inappropriate and offensive both to the justice of God and to the betterment of human beings.  He forgives the sinner but does not excuse or explain away the sin.  Thus, Jesus upholds the justice of God.

 

At this point in Lent, we may need to recognize and experience both God’s justice and God’s mercy.  By confessing our sinfulness and determining to avoid sin, we bear witness to the justice of God.  By accepting the forgiveness of our sins and by determining to forgive those who have offended us, we bear witness to God’s mercy.

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Thoughts on the Beatitudes

 

Jesus' Self-Portrait

“Blessed are the poor,” he said. Jesus is poor, not in control, but marginal in his society. What good can come from Nazareth? “Blessed are the gentle,” he said. Jesus does not break the bruised reed. He always cares for the little ones. “Blessed are those who mourn,” he said. Jesus does not hide his grief, but lets his tears flow when his friend dies and when he foresees the destruction of his beloved Jerusalem. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice,” he said. Jesus doesn't hesitate to criticize injustice and to defend the hungry, the dying, and the lepers. “Blessed are the merciful,” he said. Jesus doesn't always call for revenge but heals always and everywhere. “Blessed are the pure in heart,” he said. Jesus remains focused only on what is necessary and does not allow his attention to be divided by many distractions. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he said. Jesus does not stress differences, but reconciles people as brothers and sisters in one family. “Blessed are those who are persecuted,” he said. Jesus does not expect success and popularity, but knows that rejections and abandonment will make him suffer. The Beatitudes give us Jesus' self-portrait. It is the portrait of a powerless God.

“Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them.”   - Matthew 5: 1, 2

Thoughts on spiritual healing

 

John 5:1–16

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus heals a man who was physically ill for thirty-eight years. I want to make an observation about another manifestation of Christ’s power: his spiritual healing. The Gospels are filled with accounts of Jesus’ healing encounters with those whose spiritual energies are unable to flow. Much of Jesus’ ministry consisted in teaching people how to see (the kingdom of God), how to hear (the voice of the Spirit), how to walk (thereby overcoming the paralysis of the heart), how to be free of themselves so as to discover God. It is interesting that Jesus was referred to in the early Church as the Savior (soter in Greek and salvator in Latin). Both terms speak of the one who brings healing. The “soul” is that still point at the heart of every person, that deepest center, that point of encounter with the transcendent yet incarnate mystery of God. When the soul is healthy, it is in a living relationship with God; it is firmly rooted in the soil of meaning and is the deepest center of the person. Bishop Robert Barron