Brothers and sisters, this Word is a source of consolation, and it is a source of hope for us. Jesus did not separate himself from us, but rather opened the way for us, anticipating our final destination: the encounter with God the Father, in whose heart there is a place for each one of us. So, when we experience fatigue, bewilderment and even failure, let us remember where our life is headed. We must not lose sight of the destination, even if today we run the risk of overlooking it, of forgetting the final questions, the important ones: where are we going? Where are we headed? What is worth living for? Without these questions, we flatten our life only into the present. We think we must enjoy it as much as possible and end up living day by day, without purpose, without a goal. Instead, our homeland is in heaven (cf. Phil 3:20); let us not forget the greatness and the beauty of our destination! – Pope Francis.
In the Gospel of John, we do not find parables in the traditional sense. They are not a literary device that John employs, but this text is as close an approximation to a parable as we have. The contrast he draws between the shepherd who enters the fold by the gate and the thieves and brigands who seek to enter another way is really about leadership. There are good leaders and bad leaders. The good leader of God’s people must come to them through Jesus, who is the gate. The thieves and brigands will only lead the people to fear and confusion, where they will be scattered. Perhaps John is addressing a situation in his community where those who are seeking leadership are not following the voice of Jesus but seeking their own aggrandisement or following their own agenda. Such people will ultimately lead the flock to destruction, but Jesus gives life in abundance to all who know his voice and follow him as shepherd.
These two men give me great heart. Like them I find myself sometimes full of ‘had hopes’ Jesus explains in this journey that God’s plan wasn’t the same as the disciples, that in fact their ‘had hopes’ were unreal. God’s plan went way beyond mere political freedom which his disciples had wanted.
They know of Jesus’ death, they have heard about the empty tomb and the declaration that, ‘he is alive’. But intellectual information is not the basis of faith. Jesus comes to these two men, unrecognised. They could not see God in the recent events. Jesus opened their eyes to the possibility that God could be present even in suffering and death. They shift from intellectual information, to an inner conversion of heart. This change of heart is the basis of faith, and in this new faith perception, their eyes were opened to see that the stranger was Jesus.
It is not easy to let go ‘had hopes’ and to surrender what I want for what God wants, and yet this is the transformation or conversion that is needed if we are to walk within God’s path. What heartens me in this story is that while disciples may walk out on Jesus, but he doesn’t give up on them(us). Jesus joins these two deserters and gradually in mulling things over in his presence they are able to let go their plans and turn around towards Jerusalem to re-join the salvation story.
The themes for the second Sunday of Easter set the tone for the entire Easter season. They are all directed toward mystagogical instruction, primarily of the neophytes who were baptised during the Easter Vigil, but also of the whole Christian community. The readings for this season provide us an extended meditation on the resurrection and on our own incorporation into it through the mysteries of initiation. Most of us are like Thomas who looked for some tangible evidence of the resurrection. We do not find it any easier to live by faith than he did. However, when we do live by faith, we actually discover tangible proof. This proof can be seen in the way the community reaches out in care and support to others. Jesus extends his wounded hands to us as he did to Thomas, and the community is invited to touch his wounds as we touch the wounds of our world. We find a similar situation in the reading from Acts where the fledgling Christian community grew in number as a result of the teaching of the apostles. So it has always been. Those who are not eye witnesses of the actual events are called, through the teaching of others, to witness to the power of the resurrection. Although the blessings that we derive from the resurrection are clearly gifts from God, they are nonetheless costly gifts. They have been won through the blood of Christ, and we too may have to pay a price for having received them.
John’s Easter story is closer to our real experience than many of the other Resurrection stories. Here we have no angels announcing ‘He is raised’; no Jesus present to change sadness into joy. Resurrection is more subtle in this Gospel. Mary and Peter miss the signs. They remain locked in grief still carrying the painful burden of Golgotha. It is the disciple named ‘beloved’ who first experiences resurrection in his openness to believe in God’s power to raise Jesus. Easter calls for faith. Those who know the loss and pain of death know too well the hard, long search to find signs of life. We don’t experience a sudden glorious moment of life returned. Like the anonymous disciple, we often stay some time within the tomb before finding grace to turn and enter into life. Such grace is found in simple signs of a love that does endure. Perhaps this is why ‘the beloved’ disciple first reaches Easter faith.
The Passion narrative, as described in the Gospel of Matthew, is keen to drive home two particular points. Firstly, throughout his Gospel, Matthew is at pains to demonstrate Jesus as fulfilling the prophecy of Scripture. At the time of the arrest and the use of the thirty pieces of silver, we are reminded that these things took place to fulfil scripture. Secondly, this particular Gospel reading emphasises the innocence of Jesus throughout the Passion narrative: he is ‘sold out’ by one of his followers; his trial before the Sanhedrin is a farce; his most loyal follower denies association with him; Pilate declares himself innocent of Jesus’ blood and the crowd accepts the consequences of their actions. At no point is any hint of guilt cast over Jesus. He is an innocent whose fate has been manipulated by others. In this Gospel there is no conversation between Jesus and the criminals between whom he is crucified. There is no suggestion that Jesus too is a criminal who is deserving of his fate. His innocence is manifest. The actions of those who plot against Jesus to seek his downfall actually serve to bring about his purpose. No other outcome was possible. Matthew assures us, his readers, that the death of Jesus was no accident; it was intended from the very beginning.
All three readings for this Sunday, as well as the psalm response, point out our inability to raise ourselves out of the deaths that afflict us. In the passage from Ezekiel, it is God who promises to open the graves of the people; the people are helpless to do anything. The psalmist cries to God from out of the depths of pain and helplessness. Acknowledging human propensity to sin, Paul credits the Spirit of God with transforming death into life. Finally, it is Jesus who calls Lazarus out of the grave and returns him to his life. We can see that God does not leave us to languish in our various deaths. Instead, God offers us new life out of the tombs. All of this is accomplished through the mercy and compassion of God.
Humans see and judge by appearances, but God looks into the heart, and there finds the real person. God’s standards are not superficial, as are so many of the standards of the world. It is not age, beauty or physical strength that is important; it is not social position or religious role that is preferred. God chooses whom God chooses. God saw in David, the insignificant shepherd, the potential for being the chief shepherd of his people. The man who was born blind became the one through whom others would see the mighty works of God. Yet, neither young David nor the man in the gospel made the initial step; each simply responded with openness to God’s choice of him. By what criteria do we judge others? Do we consider some people too insignificant for greatness? Are we overly concerned with status? Do we categorise people according to the disease or physical limitation that they must endure? Do we sometimes blame them for their disability? Do our eyes perceive life in accord with the standards of a materialistic, body-orientated, pleasure-seeking society? Or do we look into the other’s heart, as God does?
As with the other scrutiny Sundays, catechumens and long-standing members alike are exhorted to make a choice. Jesus is the one who gives sight to blind eyes and religious insight to those open to receive it. However, there is a price to pay. Will it be the standards of the world, or the power of God in Jesus Christ?
The Gospel reading this Sunday very clearly lays out the choices between water that quenches thirst and water that does not. Jesus identifies himself as the source of water that guarantees eternal life. He places before the Samaritan woman a choice that requires a step of profound faith. She knows the thirst-quenching quality of the water from Jacob’s well, but she is not acquainted with the water promised by this stranger who is also an enemy of her people. The choice is not an obvious one. A similar choice is placed before us. We know the demands of our culture and the circumstances of our lives. Are we able to acknowledge the sins of which we are guilty, recognise the grace that is being offered to us, and make the right choice?
Jesus’ Transfiguration puts our sacrifices in context, reminding us that Lent is more than a season of self-denial . The only reason we deny ourselves anything or commit ourselves to actions of service for these 40 days is to grow more deeply in love with the God who loves us into life. Penance is not meant to attack our self-esteem, it’s intended to help us sort out what really matters, to cast some light in the darkness of our lives and to focus on the relationship which gives meaning and purpose for this world and the next. The God of Mount Tabor is not interested in each of us feeling isolated as we fulfil the letter of a legal code. He wants all of us to have hearts that listen to the Gospel of love so that we can gain the power to transform the world through the sacrifices of our daily lives. On a much gentler scale, Sunday Mass is meant to be a weekly mountaintop experience for us where we hear God call us by name and confess his love for us; where we feel re-energised for the commission we have to bear his light to the world. In this context anything we can do this Lent that helps remove the blocks in our full response to his love, must be worth the effort.