Friday, June 17, 2011

The Death of Jesus

James Tissot, "The Death of Jesus"
A Reflection on Luke 23:44-49

It was now about noon and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon because of an eclipse of the sun. Then the veil of the temple was torn down the middle.
Jesus cried out in a loud voice, " Father, into your hands I commend my spirit; " and when he had said this he breathed his last. The centurion who witnessed what had happened glorified God and said, "This man was innocent beyond doubt ." When all the people who had gathered for this spectacle saw what had happened, they returned home beating their breasts; but all his acquaintances stood at a distance, including the women who had followed him from Galilee and saw these events.

The sun, the Son! The “Light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel,” (Lk 2:32) eclipsed by death at the height of the day, in the prime of life, at the height of His ministry! Just a few days earlier, He had been proclaimed King by the people, riding triumphantly into Jerusalem as they glorified God!
The veil of the temple is torn wide open: God is no longer hidden from man. The Father Himself tore the veil in His haste in running out to meet us (Lk 15:20); He is pleased to give us the kingdom! (Lk 12:32) The Son’s eclipse reveals the Father, to Jew and Gentile alike.  The people whom Jesus excused because they did not know what they were doing (Lk 23:34) are suddenly filled with great remorse at His death. (Lk 23:48) Even the eyes of a Centurion—a pagan, who had surely carried out and witnessed countless crucifixions (the expression, “I’ve done this so many times, I could do it with my eyes closed,” comes to mind)—are opened!
Dearest Lord Jesus, you poured out Yourself completely in loving obedience to the Father. You even gave the Father the moment of your death; it was the only thing You had left to offer Him, making it the last act of submission of Your human will, the final prayer of utter trust and dependence, of unspeakable love You could offer, while You still had the powers of speech that the body He gave you possessed. I cannot fathom how, Lord, after hours of agony on the cross and at the point of death, You had the strength to fill Your lungs with enough air to be able to cry out, let alone utter a sound! How ashamed I am that I often let the least amount of bodily fatigue or stress keep me from just a moment of prayer! It is especially in these moments of affliction that I, too, should be crying out to Him in faith with complete trust!

Thursday, June 16, 2011

At The Foot of The Cross

Crucifixion, by Alfajarin Master (1480)
As they were looking on, so we too gaze on his wounds as he hangs. We see his blood as he dies. We see the price offered by the redeemer, touch the scars of his resurrection. He bows his head, as if to kiss you. His heart is made bare open, as it were, in love to you. His arms are extended that he may embrace you. His whole body is displayed for your redemption. Ponder how great these things are. Let all this be rightly weighed in your mind: as he was once fixed to the cross in every part of his body for you, so he may now be fixed in every part of your soul.

from "What We Behold On the Cross"
St. Augustine of Hippo (c. 354-430)


Had Jesus not come to die, but instead to restore the earthly kingdom of David in glorious triumph, who would not have wondered and worshiped! But as King of kings, He had no need to take what was already His. What the King did not have was me: banished forever because I would not serve! So what did He do? He Himself relinquished His own kingdom, and came to live with me, in this valley of tears, where Satan rules. Taking up the cross, He told Satan, “You cannot have her! She is mine! Take me instead!” How could the evil one refuse such an offer, believing that he would then truly be the King’s usurper!

And now I see the terrible price of my redemption! Nothing less than His body and blood! The evil one and those who serve him have inflicted a form of execution upon the King so horrific, that it could only have come out of hell itself! It tears me apart to see you like this, dear Lord, but still, I must look at You! And as I behold Your wounds, Your very heart pierced through, Your broken, lifeless body still fixed to the instrument of Your death, I find that I, too, no longer wish to live.

What have I done! Forgive me, Lord! I didn’t know that You loved me. I didn’t know what love was—until now. Why is it, Lord, that only now do I love You; that only now I am Yours? Yet now I see, my precious Lord: it is precisely by the death You endured that You have won me for Yourself! And even in Your glorious victory over death, may I never forget the cost; may the scars You ever bear ever be for me tokens of this Love that will not let me go!

Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal on your arm;
For stern as death is love,
Relentless as the nether world is devotion;
Its flames are a blazing fire.
Deep waters cannot quench love,
Nor floods sweep it away.
Were one to offer all he owns to purchase love,
He would be roundly mocked. (Sg 8:6-7)

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Preparations for the Passover

A Reflection on Mark 14:12-16

It was on “the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb…” I imagined the Lord and His disciples together in the temple observing the ritual slaughter, and then tried to imagine what thoughts, emotions, and prayers flowed through Jesus in that moment, as He saw the lamb’s blood flow out into the cup, then passed from one priest to the next, and was finally sprinkled onto the altar. Jesus, Lamb of God, did Your thoughts race ahead to the moment of Your own death; the one and only atoning death which this ancient ritual foretold? Would any of these same priests play a part in putting You to death? There You stood, all alone in Your knowing and understanding, just as soon You would be all alone upon Your own altar of sacrifice; and then, too, no one but You would know and understand. Did you then hear and understand Your disciples’ question, “Where do you want us to go to prepare for you to eat the Passover?” as “Where do you want us to go to prepare for your death?”

Also unknown to Your disciples, You Yourself had already prepared everything ahead of time—not just for them, but for us; for all of us, and for all time. “Go into the city and a man will meet you, carrying a water jar. Follow him.” Who is this man with the water jar? We only meet him and follow him. Is it the Baptist? But he does not pour out the water; we do not wash. But just the sight of him and the water jar speaks of, reminds us of, our need for purification before we enter the Master’s house. It was then that I heard the words the priest speaks at the beginning of each Mass: “To prepare ourselves to celebrate these sacred mysteries, let us call to mind our sins.”

Yes, Lord, You have already prepared everything-- everything except the meal. You have already spoken to the Master of this house, made arrangements with him for us to be allowed to enter it with You, to eat the Passover with You. If it were not for Your relationship with the Master, we would not be able to enter.

The room is large and furnished. It is a guest room. It is Your guest room. Lord, this room then is my heart, where you are the Guest. In this room, where do I let you sit? What place do I give you? Is it one of the highest honor?

How often do I—do I really and truly—thank You for what you have done; that You have prepared a place at the table for me, with You, in your Father’s house? How I take it for granted, not giving thought to what it cost you, to obtain this place for me—with You!

Thursday, March 31, 2011

His Kingdom is Not of This World

Pietro Lorenzetti, "Entry of Christ into Jerusalem," c 1320
Among the many questions masterfully addressed by Pope Benedict XVI in Holy Week: From the Entrance into Jerusalem to the Resurrection, his recently-released second volume in a series reflecting on the person, life, and mission of Jesus of Nazareth, is whether Jesus was a Zealot, a political revolutionary who sought to overthrow the Roman government and free His people from their oppressive occupation.

Immediately following His Messianic entrance into Jerusalem upon a donkey while His followers acclaim and proclaim Him as the One who "comes in the name of the Lord" (Matthew 21:10; Mark 11:9-10; Luke 19:38), Jesus' first deed is His "cleansing of the Temple" (Mark 11:15–19, 11:27–33, Matthew 21:12–17, 21:23–27, Luke 19:45–48, 20:1–8 and John 2:13–16), an act certain biblical scholars have typically viewed as one of "violent revolt", and which they conclude demonstrates, in the preceding Messianic context, that Jesus was a Zealot-- and that it was in His claim as "King of the Jews" for which He was ultimately crucified by the Romans (14).

But as Pope Benedict argues, "Jesus' whole ministry and His message-- from the temptations in the desert, his baptism in the Jordan, the Sermon on the Mount, right up to the parable of the Last Judgment (Mt 25) and his response to Peter's confession-- point in a radically different direction" (15). In fact, Jesus' ride into Jerusalem upon a donkey (a symbol of the poor and of poverty) renders Him as "the new king of peace" and expresses "an entirely different image of kingship" (15-16) than what was expected by those who looked to Jesus as the one who would restore the Davidic kingdom to Israel by conquest.

In response to Pontius Pilate's question, "Are you the king of the Jews?" Jesus replies, "My kingdom is not of this world" (John 18:33, 36). It is in these words that Jesus in fact proposes to Pilate, and to us, "an entirely different image of kingship," and it is paradoxically in Jesus' passion and crucifixion that He is crowned and enthroned as the king He attests He was born to be (cf John 18:37).

But how is it possible, not only to understand, but to embrace this paradox offered to us by Jesus, and thus this "entirely different image of kingship," especially through the eyes of this culture in which we live, where, first of all, the concept of kingship or any other form of autocratic rule is both foreign and undesirable to us? Yet perhaps our own culture in fact can offer us the answer, by way of analogy.

During the late 1960s and early 1970s, at the height of the Vietnam War protests, a popular sentiment rose up: that rather than sending countless soldiers to fight, to kill and be killed, in this war or any war, wouldn't true justice be served if instead the leaders of each nation, those possessing and exercising the power to declare war, met for hand to hand combat, letting the result of that battle alone determine the victor?

Isn't this exactly what Jesus did for us as King when He ascended His throne, the Cross, through which he won for us the final victory over Satan, sin and death in His resurrection? Isn't He then the only one who ever gave us all that we cry out for-- a justice born out of mercy-- in offering and giving Himself for us, and in teaching and empowering us to do the same for one another in His Name?

How is it then that we who know what true justice is, we who live in a world where people are right now rising up against rulers who deny them this true justice for which they long, can yet ignore, even reject Jesus and His claim over us as our King, instead yielding to the temptations offered by "all the kingdoms of the world in their magnificence" (Matthew 4:8)?  The Lord's kingdom is not of this world.  Thanks be to God! His kingdom is greater than any power, than any kingdom on earth, because its world, its dwelling place, is in fact in our very hearts (cf 1 John 4:4), the hearts that He made after His own image and likeness (cf Genesis 1:26-27)-- if only we would let Him reign there! For in His reign there is true and lasting peace, and freedom from all tyranny-- the true glory and magnificence which He created us to enjoy forever, and which no passing worldly kingdom can offer, even for a moment!