In much of John’s Gospel Jesus speaks to people who struggle to understand him. He speaks figuratively and his hearers assume he is being concrete. We, however, are so used to quotations from the Gospels and usually can grasp their meaning.
‘If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, you will learn the truth and the truth will make you free.’
From our vantage point, the quotation from today’s Gospel could be seen as the Gospel in microcosm:
inhabit the Scriptures, grow in discipleship, learn the truth, experience freedom.
Our starting place is so clear. Get to know the Scriptures, make them your home and feel at home with them. This is a very personal journey. In every page of the Scriptures God speaks to our hearts.
‘Peace I bequeath to you, my own peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you.
‘Oh, sister, it’s so peaceful here in the monastery.’ We hear this very often and, of course, there is a good deal of truth in this. We are a low stimulus environment, with things ordered as well as they can be. The rhythm of the liturgy plays a very important part in creating the peace that people feel when they visit. Hail, rain or shine we gather to pray the psalmody. Monastics have this remarkable ability to carry on with the liturgy even if there has been some ‘outside’ disturbance; loud rain, a low flying aircraft or even a power cut won’t put us off. It’s almost as if we have a collective inner equilibrium.
St Benedict puts a great deal of store by the peace and good order of the monastery. In his Chapter On the Cellarer he urges his monks to make their requests to the cellarer reasonable and at the proper times. The job can be demanding and touches all areas of monastery life. St Benedict makes wise provision:
If the community is rather large, he should be given helpers, that with their assistance he may calmly perform the duties of his office. Necessary items or to be requested and given at the proper times, so that no one may be disquieted or distressed in the house of God.
What Benedict seems to be saying is that everyone has a part to play in creating a peaceful environment.
When Jesus speaks of peace, he speaks of it as a gift. This gift is to be internalised. You can’t force someone to receive a gift. A person needs to pick it up and make it their own in some way. Jesus waits for us each to do this. Much like Benedict’s monks, we can help each other ‘so that no one may be disquieted or distressed in the house of God.’
One of my favourite Psalms is 118/9. It’s very long and arranged as an acrostic. Some people find it a bit tedious as it is very repetitious and turns around a small list of words: law, word, will, statutes, commands, decrees and precepts. Every four lines uses at least one of these words. It’s a Psalm in praise of the Torah.
I’ve prayed this psalm for nearly 30 yrs and one of the things that I have noticed is that when I meet the words ‘commands’ and ‘word’ in the New Testament I hear them now with Old Testament resonances.
‘If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make our home with him.’
The ‘word’ I am being invited to keep will ‘give me life’ (Ps 118/19 v.37), ‘stands firm in the heavens’ (v.89), ‘is a lamp for my steps and a light for my path’ (v.105). The great promise in John’s Gospel is that openness to God’s word prepares a place for the Father and Son to come and make their home within us.
The place we each prepare is unique. It’s crafted from our life experiences; our joys, our sorrows, our hopes and our dreams. Each time you hear or read the Word of God that place within you changes.
Use your Bible today. Find your favourite quotations.
We have heard today’s Gospel text over the course of the week in our weekday liturgy. So I come to the text with a little more familiarity than usual. The opening words set a tone of comfort:
Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still, and trust in me. There are many rooms in my Father’s house; if there were not, I should have told you.
The first words are simple. Their meaning is clear. I hear this addressed to me and my situation. And then the imagery opens out. I see vast corridors, doors ajar, beautiful rooms, light flooding through. My thoughts turn to the mystery of what happens when we die.
These words of comfort and assurance are spoken on the eve of Jesus’ passion. The disciples have every reason to be troubled. Jesus urges them onwards:
I tell you most solemnly, whoever believes in me will perform the same works as I do myself, he will perform even greater works, because I am going to the Father.
I hear these words addressed to me. I allow Jesus’ promise to take hold. Today, this week, this month, this year- can I be open to what is asked of me?
Philip said, ‘Lord, let us see the Father and then we shall be satisfied.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?
We can perhaps quite easily put ourselves in Philip’s position and hear these words addressed to ourselves. If I think back over all the overtly spiritual input I have had over the years it has been quite considerable. If I add to that all the sorrows, joys, and variety of human experience, then I have much draw upon. But do I really know Jesus? Like all relationships, there are times when I need to make more of a conscious effort. It takes time and a willingness to put that relationship first.
I am reminded again of my favourite verse from Godhead Here in Hiding:
I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see, But I plainly call thee Lord and God as he: This faith each day deeper be my holding of, Daily make me harder hope and dearer love.
Each day we can take a small step closer in our relationship with Jesus. We may not even notice these small steps, these small in-breakings of grace.
Look back over your week? Where were the moments of grace?
Our experience of the pandemic has brought the reality of death very close to us. We remember the heartbreaking stories of people dying alone and of families not being able to be at the hospital bedside of a loved one. In our culture the idea of someone dying alone is something which haunts and troubles us.
It’s into these very situations that Jesus speaks his words of comfort, ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled, trust in God still and trust in me.’ However agonizing the circumstances this promise holds true. Added to these words of comfort is a promise that is easily overlooked:
‘There are many rooms in my Father’s house; if there were not, I should have told you. I am going now to prepare a place for you…‘
It’s the word ‘prepare’ which always strikes me. It makes me think of the times that I have prepared a room, adding the little touches that I hope will be welcoming. I love the idea of Jesus has prepared a place for each of us. Nothing is being left to chance. The love that brought us into the world now prepares a place for us.
At baptism when we were anointed with chrism these words were said:
‘God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ has freed you from sin, given you a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit, and welcomed you into his holy people. He now anoints you with the chrism of salvation. As Christ was anointed Priest, Prophet and King, so may you live always as a member of his body, sharing everlasting life.’
The English Martyrs whom we celebrate today lived their baptismal promises to the full. They imaged Christ so completely that they gave their lives for him. Few of us will be asked to make so great a sacrifice, but what we can do is reflect regularly on what it might mean for us to be anointed Priest, Prophet and King. Anointing strengthens for all that lies ahead.
In the Gospel text for today we are reassured that should the time come for our faith to be tested, then the Spirit of the Father will speak in us. We take this on trust.
We pray today for all those in our own lives who have shown us courage and fortitude and been prepared to carry what we could not.
How can you be open to the Spirit of your Father speaking in you today?
If you Google this famous quotation you’ll get quite a few pictures of roads and paths. It is the easiest of the three concepts to illustrate. We know where we are with a clear path. When Jesus says he is the Way we have a reasonable idea of what this means. The earliest followers of Jesus were called followers of ‘The Way’. Implicit in this is word is the idea that every part of your life is orientated to Christ. Christ informs the manner of your life, the choices you make and the company you keep. It’s a whole package.
In a lyrical flourish in the Prologue to his Rule St Benedict too uses the image of a path:
‘As we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commands, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love.’ (Rule of Saint Benedict, Prologue v 49)
This is a grand vision, but one which is certainly worth the effort. The whole of the Rule could be understood as guidelines for expanding the heart and growth in love. St Benedict knows that it won’t be easy and that we are bound to stumble. One of the ways in which the monastic is strengthened for running on the path is by learning to listen to God, to the superior and to others in community. This three-fold listening is how St Benedict understands obedience.
The disciples too are being schooled in love and obedience. Philip’s plea: ‘Let us see the Father and then we shall be satisfied’ comes from the deep desire to understand what Christ is saying and to follow him.
I have such a lot of sympathy with the Jews of John’s Gospel when they say this. Jesus answers them in riddles and leaves them with more questions than answers. The more I sit with the Gospel texts, the more I realise that what I see plainly from my monastery vantage point was anything but clear to those who saw and heard Jesus.
Jesus makes claims about himself that shook centuries of tradition. We can list his claims and they have no such effect on us:
I am the Bread of Life I am the Good Shepherd I am the Light of the World
We find these on posters and prayer cards and they give us comfort. For the Jews who heard and questioned Jesus they had to go back to their source texts and see if they could make any sense of it. These were Messianic claims and they were challenged at their core.
A good deal of our life of faith involves doing the best we can in the circumstances in which we find ourselves. When we have to discern a new way forward we naturally look for signs and confirmations that we are on the right track. I have friends who are very good at reading the signs. I’ve always been a bit slower myself. But what I have discovered is that these friends share some things in common: they assume the good and are expecting God to speak.
Is there any area in your life where you long for Christ to speak plainly to you?
I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for my sheep.
A local farmer grazes his sheep on our land. I asked him once if he named his sheep, he said, ‘No’. I asked him if the sheep ‘know’ him, he said ‘They know that I bring food.’ We can often romanticise Jesus’ words about being a shepherd and knowing his sheep.
For the hearers of John’s Gospel the image of a shepherd will have invoked a whole world of meaning. Being in charge of a flock of animals and making sure they survived was not just a job but a way of life. The well- being of your flock and your own well-being were intimately connected.
Today’s Gospel speaks to me of the closeness of relationship that Jesus wants with each one of us. Like a shepherd, he is prepared to go to any lengths to ensure that we are safe and well fed. At its very best this is also a metaphor which the Church uses for leadership. It’s easy to hear this Gospel and see the ways in which the Church has failed in her leadership.
Perhaps today we could apply the metaphor to ourselves. How have we shepherded the people in our care? How have we ensured that people had the ‘food’ and ‘water’ that they needed? How have we brought them to safe pasture?
