This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com
Welcome to the parish blog of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church in Mill Valley, California
Obedient to the point of death…
What does Jesus’ suffering mean to you?
One important motif in the writings of the Evangelist Luke is that of the journey. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is the completion of his long journey to that city, an entry made on a colt on which no one has ever sat rather than on a war horse. Why? Because Jesus is not the kind of Messiah many people think he is; he has not come to save the Hebrew people from the domination of the Romans, but rather from their own sin. The loud praise of Jesus’ disciples as he enters the city causes some of the Pharisees to say, Teacher, rebuke your disciples, for they fear the Romans will hear the multitude and decide a revolt is underway. Jesus’ response is telling: If they keep silent, the stones will cry out! Nothing can stop God’s action on behalf of God’s people.
Another important motif in Luke’s Gospel is that of Jesus’ suffering, which has been foretold both in the Book of the Prophet Isaiah and in Psalm 22. The Suffering Servant described by Isaiah does not turn away from the abuse inflicted upon him for bringing God’s word: I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting. But the very human abuse inflicted on the Servant cannot cause him to feel shame because it is God who defines his life, and so the Servant sets his face like flint, allowing himself to be that which ignites the process of transformation that will awaken all to God’s will. Psalm 22 is similarly prophetic, as it describes the pain and suffering and rejection by others that Jesus himself will know during his Passion: They have pierced my hands and my feet; I can count all my bones.
As Paul tells the Philippians, Jesus himself is very much aware of the Father’s will, and so he empties himself, taking the form of a slave, remaining obedient to the point of death. Jesus comes to sacrifice himself out of love for humankind, and in Luke’s Passion Jesus himself details the suffering to come from the very opening of the Last Supper. The bread Jesus shares with the apostles is his body, which will be given for them; the cup he blesses is the new covenant in his blood. Jesus acknowledges the hand of the one who is to betray him, present on the table, as well as Simon Peter’s forthcoming act to deny three times that he knows Jesus. How painful knowledge of these betrayals must have been to Jesus, even before he submits to the ridicule and beating of those who take him into custody, the condemnation of the council of elders of the people, and the contemptuous, mocking treatment of Herod and his soldiers. Throughout his excruciating crucifixion, Jesus continues to bear the soldiers’ jeering and the revilement of one the criminals hanging with him.
Yet there is grace, too, in this heart-wrenching Passion. For example, in spite of Simon Peter’s imminent betrayal, Jesus prays that Simon’s faith may not fail, and instructs him, once you have turned back, you must strengthen your brothers. Jesus even heals the ear of the high priest’s servant, encourages the daughters of Jerusalem who weep not to mourn (not yet!), and responds without rancor to Pilate’s interrogation. Ultimately, Jesus creates peace where one would not anticipate finding it. This is what his death and resurrection do, for who expects to find peace in violence? As Jesus breathes his last, the veil of the temple is torn down the middle, opening access to God’s presence to all humankind.
No matter how twisted or broken humankind becomes, God loves us; this is why he sent his Son to die for us. Nothing stops God’s action on behalf of God’s people. We, in turn, can but open our hands to the Lord in praise, giving glory to him in gratitude, so that we can be born, through Christ’s suffering, into eternal life and know perfect union with him in paradise.
This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com
A paradox occurs when two facts that are both true and conflict are nevertheless true at the same time. Scripture starts with a paradox: God who is a power beyond description creates all things out of nothing, and God who is described like one of us, shaping man out of clay, breathing life into his nostrils. Both images are true. Wherever we come across a paradox, we are entering into the realm of mystery. We celebrate a paradox this week: a juncture of two facts that are both true but which conflict with one another. Jesus is God, therefore he says, I AM, which in Hebrew is the name for God (YHWH). And yet Jesus is also fully human, otherwise he could not effect salvation for us.
Paradoxes begin to pile up this week – all to emphasize the fact that this week is a mystery that we are a part of. In Isaiah, the Suffering Servant speaks of the cruelties that are happening to him – his beard his plucked, his face is buffeted and spit upon, and so on. All of these could bring disgrace and shame upon him and yet he claims tht he will not be disgraced, he will not be shamed, because he has confidence in God’s ability to save him. He stands for the truth that God has sent him to stand for, and so all of this will be temporary. It will pass, but God’s love for him will not. Jesus stands at this juncture.
In the Passion narrative, Jesus says little in the second half, once he reveals who he is, once he knows his death will be certain because he declares himself to be God’s Son – a blasphemy to the high priest found only in Mark’s Gospel. The people do not recognize the Messiah God has sent; they struggle with the paradox that God has sent a human being to effect salvation, because it’s only through our humanity, our brokenness, that salvation can come. This is part of the truth that we celebrate this week.
Pilate releases Barabbas to the crowds; he is bar (son of) Abbas (father) – the same term Jesus uses in his prayer during his agony in the Garden. Pilate releases one whose name is son of the father instead of one who is Son of the Father. We, through baptism, are made God’s children, Bar-Abbas in truth. We have to choose whether we live it as if it were truth or if we live it as if it were just a name. It’s easy to wear the name of Christian without living as if it meant something. Does Barabbas learn anything? Do we? Does the Passion of Jesus change how we see ourselves – as those who are subject to his mercy?
As we celebrate this week, we gather together in this paradox, in this mystery that is our faith in salvation, that through sin, we have been redeemed. For our own sin, Christ forgives us and we find mercy, so that we might be mercy – a paradox we are asked to live every day.
This post is based on Fr. Pat’s 2021 Homily on Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com
Jesus will live and ultimately die, so that he can rise. His suffering, or Passion, at the hands of the Roman occupiers and the Jewish authorities, is chronicled in every Gospel; Matthew’s version is fraught with moments of disruption and difficulty, from the time Jesus makes his triumphal entry into Jerusalem on an ass, a simple, pedestrian animal, a beast of burden. Though the crowds cry out, Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Matthew also notes that the whole city was shaken by his presence. The disruption he describes will be echoed in the Passion narrative when Jesus gives up his spirit, at which moment the veil of the sanctuary is torn, the earth quakes, rocks are split, and tombs are opened. Jesus’ journey to this point has been fraught: from his sorrow in the Garden of Gethsemane to his betrayal by Judas to his abusive treatment at the hands of the Sanhedrin. Peter will deny him, the crowds will choose Barabbas over him, and the soldiers will crucify him. From the cross, Jesus will pray Psalm 22: my God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
Jesus abandoned his divinity to embrace humanity; he emptied himself that he might be truly one with us, so that he could die and bring us to God. It is our sins that are nailed to the cross, our salvation that his sacrifice ensures for all time. Through his obedience, Jesus shows us the way to God, the path we too must follow, the journey we too must make; his death gives us access to God in our lives. In baptism, we die with him, that we might rise with him. To accept to walk this journey is to know that we too will be shaken, rattled, that our journey will be disrupted. Embracing Christ’s journey means our life will not go on as normal, ever again. Are we ready to take that first step, during this most Holy Week?
This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com
Jesus is the Suffering Servant of the prophet Isaiah, meant to bring the people of Israel, who had been captive in Babylon, back to life. God gives him the words to speak to those who have given up, that they might live again; the prophet is to raise the hopes of those in exile who have lost all hope. He will also suffer on their behalf, as he faces opposition. Yet he remains faithful to God no matter what happens – I have not rebelled, not turned back, he says; the prophet will not become weary; rather, he speaks to the weary a word that will rouse them. The Suffering Servant allows himself to be that which ignites the fire that gives life; the abuse he receives as he sets his face like flint will bring the salvation God has promised to God’s people. Jesus is the Suffering Servant, the Messiah sent to experience pain and rejection at the hands of others. He prays Psalm 22 in a moment of absolute loss: My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? In his full humanity, he will suffer on behalf of all: they mock him; they pierce his hands and his feet; they cast lots for his clothing.
The evangelist Luke also understands Jesus as the Suffering Servant; Jesus will be counted among the wicked yet, in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus never questions that he will die, for it is his destiny, though he prays that his disciples’ peace may not ultimately fail. Through death, Jesus creates peace where one would not anticipate finding it, for who expects to find peace in violence? Yet Jesus actively accepts his destiny. As Paul tells the Philippians, Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Jesus embraces humanity in a way Adam and Eve did not – with humility, emptying himself and taking the form of a slave. His journey will culminate as he sacrifices himself out of love for humankind, raising them up; the crucifixion reveals he is the Son of God, so that at the name of Jesus, every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth. The man Jesus who commends his spirit into the hands of the Father is greatly exalted by the Father, that all might recognize in his suffering that Jesus Christ is Lord! May we too not keep silent, that all might know the salvation that Jesus, the Suffering Servant, has attained on our behalf.
This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com
On Palm Sunday, the palms we carry mark our participation in salvation, an ongoing event in which we have a role right now. And yet shortly after Jesus arrives in Jerusalem, hailed as King by the crowds proclaiming Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, he will soon stand alone, with sin and brokenness and fear all around him. He even has to stand before the high priest and say I AM, a statement identifying himself with God considered blasphemous in the minds of the religious and political leaders of Jerusalem. They have not seen God in their midst; they have closed themselves off from him. And so they all condemn him as deserving to die.
In Mark’s Passion narrative, many abandon Jesus. One young man flees, leaving behind his clothes – a linen cloth; how will he be able to enter anywhere, exposed as he is in his cowardice? Yet he fears being arrested because of his proximity to Jesus. Jesus’ disciples abandon him as well, out of fear, Peter first among them: I do not know this man about whom you are talking. Yet in all this chaos there is a place of calm in the person of Jesus, who does the will of the Father, that his love should be made known, revealed in its entirety, knowing no limits. The Lord God is my help, says the prophet Isaiah, speaking for the Suffering Servant. Jesus stands in the midst of their anger and all their persecutions because he loves them; having emptied himself, as Philippians tells us, he dies for those who crucify him as much as for anyone else. His is an act of mercy that transcends all differences. Mercy is always about the other, about reaching beyond ourselves. This is the model we are to follow.
Lent has called us to act out of charity and generosity, our hearts reaching out from ourselves with God’s love; this is how we follow Jesus through death to resurrection. Jesus held his enemies close as they tried to destroy him; our common heart must be Jesus’ heart; our common love must be Jesus’ love. Our common journey is our journey with him to death, every day, that we may rise from all hatred and all insult, and find life, and salvation, in one another, as he did.
This post is based on Fr. Pat’s homily for Palm Sunday 2018.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com