What was done for us

I think it is very possible to drift through life, or at least parts of your life. Looking back into my life, I certainly find that to be true. Over the years listening to people chatting with me on the sidewalks, in the office, in the confessional and more – it seems to be quite common. Maybe it is during a time when there are too many things that you are trying to juggle. Or during a time when one thing occupies a huge amount of your attention and energy. Or maybe it is just a part of your life that is in cruise control so to speak. Your attention is just elsewhere.

My dad used to say that the main thing is making sure that the main thing remains the main thing.

Lent is a season built upon and focused on bringing the “main thing” into focus: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I especially remember the Lenten season of almost 40 years ago. I had been growing in faith – at least getting more serious about my spiritual, prayer, and life in the faith. I decided to take a week of vacation during Holy Week. It was a time to relax, visit people, take long bike rides and decompress so I would be ready to celebrate Holy Thursday, Good Friday, the Easter Vigil, and Easter Sunday.  And Palm Sunday too – but I have to admit it was a bit of an afterthought. But sure, Palm Sunday is the gateway to the week. Jesus starts Holy Week on a high as he triumphantly enters Jerusalem to the cries of Hosanna – only to reach the low point of Good Friday. As a narrative arc, that makes sense.

It wasn’t my first Palm Sunday, but I remember being surprised there was a  Gospel that started the Mass. I was even more surprised at the Passion gospel. I distinctly remember thinking that reading the Passion was jumping the gun a bit, don’t you think? I mean, won’t Good Friday arrive in its own good time? Can’t we wait to hear about the Last Supper, the betrayal, Gethsemane, the trials, Pontius Pilate, scouring, the crucifixion, and Jesus dead, laid in a tomb? What is the rush? Let me enjoy the triumphant entry.

Why did the Church add this to Palm Sunday? Short answer, they didn’t, it had been there for my lifetime. I guess I had been drifting through Holy Week for the whole of my life. Yet I missed it. Lots of people might not be here for Holy Thursday and Good Friday. That sets up a danger in going from the Palm Sunday shouts of  “Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest;” then jumping to Christ Resurrected. The “danger” is “see, it all works out, Jesus wins” and thinking the glory and love of God is revealed in the Resurrection alone. 

I think there is something in reading the Passion today that not only gives us the context for the week. But it points to the heart of Holy Week. And we need to sit with that for a few days before we celebrate the particulars of Holy Thursday and Good Friday. We need time to let it rummage around and let it find its home within us.

Our Lenten journey has brought us to Holy Week where so many folks focus on all that Jesus suffered for us because of our human condition, stiff-neck and unrepentant as we can be.  Even though that is true, I think it misses the mark – is incomplete at best. Yes, Jesus suffered for us, but Jesus has entered into the part of humanity where darkness dwells. 

It is through the betrayal, Gethsemane, the trials, Pontius Pilate, scouring, the crucifixion that Jesus enters into the darkest part of humanity. Where he is tortured, broken, held in bondage, scourged and crucified – helpless in the hands of Roman power, corrupt authorities and betrayal. Now at the end, there is no vestige of human experience untouched and embraced by God.

Our savior has gone into the place where people are entombed. Where there is torture, brokenness, bondage, hopelessness, and abandonment.  The place where we hear “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani? … My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” from the voices of the faithful, the lost, the despairing, and those who are afflicted and feel as though there is no place left for hope. Jesus has been there.

And we hear the whole story today – not piecemeal – but in its entirety. A story to carry with us throughout the week when Mary will anoint Jesus’ feet with her hair, where 30 pieces of silver will change hands, where Passover fellowship will give way to betrayal, giving way to scourging and crucifixion. Arms stretched to connect heaven and earth. And yet, in the end, death. Abandoned. 

Such is the love of God for us. The glory of God displayed as a Love so vast, a desire that all be saved that runs so deep, that God holds back nothing. Nothing. Not even his only Son. Such love. Such love. It is the glory of God. There on the cross, the glory of God is revealed. 

Holy Week is a journey into the Glory of God, rightly understood.

It is to understand the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday in a profound way. To understand that the Word of God, condescendere, stepped down in humility to pitch his tent with us. Stepped down to wash his disciples feet; knowing that Jesus will step down even further into the full darkness of the human condition. That all will be saved; all will be converted, even the most broken part of our lives. So, when Jesus asks the Apostles on Holy Thursday, “Do you know what I have done for you?”  The answer is far richer. Then to sit, watch the altar being stripped, darkness begin to fall within the church, and the grand silence settles, and we ponder – do we really understand what He has done for us?

Holy Week begins today.

And by Sunday morning we pray we will be closer to being able to more completely answer that question: “Do you know what I have done for you?”  

We need time to let it rummage around and let it find its home within us.

It is a glimpse into the heart of Holy Week. It is Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion. It is our wake up call so that we ensure the main thing remains the main thing.  Amen.


Image credit: Canva modified

A Final Thought

Matthew’s account is devoid of the graphic violence, the blood, and prolonged description of the suffering endured.  There is no emphasis on the saving efficacy of the act of crucifixion (as in John and Paul). Matthew’s intent seems to be to affirm his most basic themes:

  • This truly is the Messiah, the Son of God
  • The one who was rejected by opponents and abandoned by disciples – forming humanity’s response.
  • But Jesus has formed a people called out (ekklesia) – Jews and Gentiles alike – who are formed into the people of God in the forgiveness, and

The center of their faith is Jesus, the righteous one who modeled the right relationship with God the Father in life, in word, in act and even in death.

Jesus’ Tomb Is Sealed and Guarded

62 The next day, the one following the day of preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate 63 and said, “Sir, we remember that this impostor while still alive said, ‘After three days I will be raised up.’ 64 Give orders, then, that the grave be secured until the third day, lest his disciples come and steal him and say to the people, ‘He has been raised from the dead.’ This last imposture would be worse than the first.” 65 Pilate said to them, “The guard is yours; go secure it as best you can.” 66 So they went and secured the tomb by fixing a seal to the stone and setting the guard. (27:62-66) Continue reading

Jesus is Buried

57 When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea named Joseph, who was himself a disciple of Jesus. 58 He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be handed over. 59 Taking the body, Joseph wrapped it (in) clean linen 60 and laid it in his new tomb that he had hewn in the rock. Then he rolled a huge stone across the entrance to the tomb and departed. 61 But Mary Magdalene and the other Mary remained sitting there, facing the tomb.  (27:57-61) 

In Matthew’s account, the faithful women have viewed from a distance. Their appearance at this point of the narrative emphasizes their key role of witness after all the men have fled. Only later do others appear, namely Joseph of Arimathea (cf. John 3), who in Matthew is not mentioned as a member of the Sanhedrin. Thus it is not a sympathetic member of the opposition who buries Jesus, but a disciple of Jesus.  Jesus is buried in a known place of a prominent man, not a place where there would be confusion regarding its location. And at the end of it all, two women remain, keeping watch.

Reminders

The gospel reading for today has a rather odd phrase: Jesus answered them, “Is it not written in your law, I said, ‘You are gods’”?  I think there is a tendency to be mystified and at the same simply think, “OK, Jesus said it…. That’s enough for me.”  And then move on. But there is a lot going on in John 10, of which this gospel selection is just a portion. The whole of John 10 offers several questions, one being whether Jesus is the “good shepherd” promised in Ezekiel 34, but the one that concerns our reading today is whether Jesus is the unique Son of God, and conversely, whether God is in a very unique way his Father.

For the last several days, the gospel at Mass has raised the question of the authority and source of Jesus’ works. What more can he offer as proof than his works done through the Father? Works that are themselves the Father’s revealing words? But Jesus’ adversaries will not believe that Jesus and the Father are one: “The Father and I are one” (v. 30). The Jews’ reaction to this great assertion is the extreme one of trying to stone him. They regard Jesus’ words as blasphemy, and they proceeded to take the judgment (Lv 24:16) into their own hands

And then comes our strange verse: “Is it not written in your law, I said, ‘You are gods’ (v.34) Jesus is directing their attention to Scripture. Psalm 82:6 is the immediate reference: “Gods though you be, offspring of the Most High all of you…”  The psalm is referring to the Judges of Israel (written about in the Book of Judges) and the expression “gods” is applied to them in the exercise of their high and God-given office. If Scripture itself refers to humans as “gods” Jesus is making the point why the Pharisee should object to the reference “Son of God?”

There are two ways to understand the reference: (1) if the Psalm speaks of men as gods, then Jesus can use the term of himself in common with others, or (2) if in any sense the Psalm may apply this term to men, then much more may it be applied to him whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world. The latter is a “how much more” argument.  Leon Morris points out that this is Jesus’ way of accepting the charge made against him. He does not deny the charge, but he denies that the Jews are right in their understanding of the situation. They thought he was making himself God. He held that he was not making himself anything. He was what he was: “the one whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world.

The gospel reminds us who Jesus is: the Son of the Living God. But we should not lose sight that it is a reminder of who we are called to be: people who exercise our high and God-given office – not as judges – but as evangelists who announce: “the one whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world.


Image credit: Jesus Christ Pantocrator | detail from the deesis mosaic in Hagia Sophia, Istanbul | PD-US

Jesus is Crucified

33 And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of the Skull), 34 they gave Jesus wine to drink mixed with gall. But when he had tasted it, he refused to drink. 35 After they had crucified him, they divided his garments by casting lots; 36 then they sat down and kept watch over him there. 37 And they placed over his head the written charge against him: This is Jesus, the King of the Jews. 38 Two revolutionaries were crucified with him, one on his right and the other on his left. 39 Those passing by reviled him, shaking their heads 40 and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself, if you are the Son of God, (and) come down from the cross!” 41 Likewise the chief priests with the scribes and elders mocked him and said, 42 “He saved others; he cannot save himself. So he is the king of Israel! Let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. 43 He trusted in God; let him deliver him now if he wants him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” 44 The revolutionaries who were crucified with him also kept abusing him in the same way.  Continue reading

Simon Is Compelled to Carry Jesus’ Cross

32 As they were going out, they met a Cyrenian named Simon; this man they pressed into service to carry his cross. (27:31b-32)

In Roman executions, the vertical crucifixion stake was permanently fixed at the place of execution; the condemned man was typically forced to carry the heavy crossbar himself. In this spare rendering of the Way of the Cross, we hear the echo of Jesus’ declaration that everyone – himself included – must carry his own cross (16:24); such is the nature of discipleship.  Simon the Cyrene (modern Libya) was pressed into service (cf 5:41) to assist in carrying the cross. In the Matthean narrative he is the only person present at Golgotha whose name we know. That a stranger carries Jesus’ cross (a) emphasizes the abandonment of the disciples and (b) anticipates the coming Gentile mission.

The King Is Scourged and Mocked

27 Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus inside the praetorium and gathered the whole cohort around him. 28 They stripped off his clothes and threw a scarlet military cloak about him. 29 Weaving a crown out of thorns, they placed it on his head, and a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” 30 They spat upon him and took the reed and kept striking him on the head. 31 And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the cloak, dressed him in his own clothes, and led him off to crucify him. (27:26-31a)

Where the religious trial ends by mocking Jesus as the Christ, the secular trial ends with Jesus being mocked as king with a scarlet cloak (a soldier’s cape) parodying the emperor’s purple robe, a reed representing a royal scepter, and the crown of thorns. Jesus is thus enthroned as king, and offered the homage of kneeling which a Hellenistic ruler required.  In this scene Matthew continues to redefine what kingship means.  If this scene is a coronation, then the cross will be the throne.

Jesus Is Condemned

11 Now Jesus stood before the governor, and he questioned him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus said, “You say so.” 12 And when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he made no answer. 13 Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they are testifying against you?” 14 But he did not answer him one word, so that the governor was greatly amazed.  Continue reading

On baseball and Catholicism

by John L. Allen, Jr. , Boston Globe and Cruxnow.com | may he rest in peace.


Easter is my favorite holiday, not only because it recalls the central event in the Christian account of salvation history, meaning Christ rising from the dead, but also because it coincides with baseball’s Opening Day.

A few years ago I published a list of nine reasons – with the number, obviously, chosen to represent the innings in a typical game – why Catholicism is to religion what baseball is to sports. In honor of first pitch this year, here’s the list again:

  1. Both baseball and Catholicism venerate the past. Both cherish the memories of a Communion of Saints, including popular shrines and holy cards.
  2. Both feature obscure rules that make sense only to initiates. (Think the infield fly rule for baseball fans and the Pauline privilege for Catholics.)
  3. Both have a keen sense of ritual, in which pace is critically important. (As a footnote, that’s why basketball is more akin to Pentecostalism, since both are breathless affairs premised largely on ecstatic experience. I’d go into why football is pagan, but that’s a different conversation.)
  4. Both baseball and Catholicism generate oceans of statistics, arcana, and lore. For entry-level examples, try: Who has the highest lifetime batting average, with a minimum of 1,000 at-bats? (Ty Cobb). Which popes had the longest and the shortest reigns? (Pius IX and Urban VII).
  5. In both baseball and Catholicism, you can dip in and out, but for serious devotees, the liturgy is a daily affair.
  6. Both are global games especially big in Latin America. The Detroit Tigers are thought to have one of the most potent batting orders in baseball, featuring two Venezuelans, a Cuban, and six Americans of diverse ethnic backgrounds. Take a look at the presbyterates in many American dioceses, and the mix isn’t that different.
  7. Both baseball and Catholicism have been badly tainted by scandal, with the legacies of erstwhile superstars utterly ruined. Yet both have proved surprisingly resilient – perhaps demonstrating that the game is great enough to survive even the best efforts of those in charge at any given moment to ruin it.
  8. Both have a complex farm system, and fans love to speculate about who the next hot commodity will be in “The Show.”
  9. Both reward patience. If you’re the kind of person who needs immediate results, neither baseball nor Catholicism is really your game.

I threw in a bonus item, which was my argument as to why the American League is actually more Catholic because it permits a designated hitter. The National League’s refusal, I contended, smacks of a quasi-Calvinist fundamentalism, while the American League better embodies what Cardinal John Henry Newman once called the development of doctrine.

I conceded the irony that both the Padres and the Cardinals play in the more “Protestant” National League, which was seized upon by Catholic critics who found my case for the designated hitter almost heretical. I’m not sure I’ve ever written anything else that generated quite as much blowback.