In today’s Gospel the mood intensifies. We can easily imagine the scene of Jesus sharing a meal with his disciples. When film producers portray this they build the drama with music and dramatic pauses. I always imagine it as a sultry night.
Meals are intimate occasions. Friendships can be deepened and difficulties healed through the sharing of food. They can also highlight discord and deepen rifts. In this meal the figure of Judas comes into full focus for us. It’s uncomfortable and leaves me unsettled. I am always left wondering what motivated Judas. There seems a certain inevitability about the events that will unfold.
When Judas leaves the Upper Room we read ‘night had fallen’. This always chills me. In John’s Gospel there is a play between light and darkness, sight and blindness. The very next lines in the text are ‘now has the Son of man been glorified’. There is no portrayal of a victim here. Jesus is in control.
The anointing at Bethany stops me in my tracks each year. For much of the liturgical year the lectionary leads us through the teaching and miracles of Jesus. From time to time we have a personal encounter: Zacchaeus, The Syro-Phoenecian woman, The Samaritan woman etc. Each encounter is life-changing.
Today’s text from John 12 always shifts the focus for me. Here at Bethany Jesus is amongst friends. He has shared his life with them. He has been more than a teacher and a worker of miracles. And then, at this intimate gathering, Mary does one of the most intimate things recorded in the Gospels. In all love and reverence she kneels at his feet, pouring out perhaps the most costly thing she had. She doesn’t speak. She shows her love in a silent action.
On Saturday, in the Fifth Week of Lent, the Breviary reading for Office of Readings is from a sermon by Saint Gregory Nazianzen. We are invited to take part in the Passover in a personal way:
If you are a Simon of Cyrene, take up your cross and follow Christ.
If you are crucified beside him like one of the thieves, now, like the good thief, acknowledge your God. For your sake, and because of your sin, Christ himself was regarded as a sinner; for his sake, therefore, you must cease to sin. Worship him who was hung on the cross because of you, even if you are hanging there yourself. Derive some benefit from the very shame; purchase salvation with your death. Enter paradise with Jesus, and discover how far you have fallen. Contemplate the glories there, and leave the other scoffing thief to die outside in his blasphemy.
If you are a Joseph of Arimathea, go to the one who ordered his crucifixion, and ask for Christ’s body. Make your own the expiation for the sins of the whole world.
If you are a Nicodemus, like the man who worshipped God by night, bring spices and prepare Christ’s body for burial.
If you are one of the Marys, or Salome, or Joanna, weep in the early morning. Be the first to see the stone rolled back, and even the angels perhaps, and Jesus himself.
I have always found this reflection powerful and a helpful way to begin Holy Week. But this year it struck me that the picture is incomplete. The presence of women is barely acknowledged. So I’ve made some additions to St Gregory’s text:
If you are Mary of Bethany, kneel in reverence at your Lord’s feet. Pour out the perfume of your life in the silent action of love.
If you are a server at the meal in the Upper Room, make the finest of banquets and give thanks for the Lord of all Creation.
If you are the servant girl tending the fire in the courtyard of the High Priest’s house, don’t be afraid to recognise those who follow Christ and boldly speak your truth.
If you are one of the Women of Jerusalem, follow Christ closely and weep for the Christ you see in all who suffer.
If you are Mary, the mother of Jesus, watch as the child your bore walks the path that only he can walk. Listen as he calls on his God and your God. Surrender your spirit as he surrenders his.
If you are Mary, the wife of Clopas, remain faithful to the last. Stand at the foot of the cross for all women who must witness suffering.
If you are Mary of Magdala, sit at the foot of the cross, bear the weight of sorrow for every heart that has loved and broken in two.
As we begin Holy Week the Church invites us on a journey. This week is like no other in the year. Spread before us in the liturgies each day is the story of our salvation. We are invited to find ourselves in the scriptural stories.
The First Reading for today from Isaiah can be a helpful starting place for the week.
‘The Lord has given me a disciple’s tongue. So that I may know how to reply to the wearied he provides me with speech. Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord has opened my ear.
For my part, I made no resistance, neither did I turn away. I offered my back to those who struck me, my cheeks to those who tore at my beard; I did not cover my face against insult and spittle.
The Lord comes to my help, so that I am untouched by the insults. So, too, I set my face like flint; I know I shall not be shamed.’
The servant knows himself as a disciple. Each day his task is to hear what God is saying. God has already created in him an openness and a readiness. God has opened the servant’s ear.
Make a conscious effort this week to listen to God in the scriptures and those around you.
We’ve met the prophet Ezekiel already during Lent. Woven together with warnings and reminders of just how much Israel has strayed are some of the most memorable prophecies of hope in all of the prophetic literature. Today we hear a promise of gathering together and of unity. Israel has suffered the hardship of being scattered physically in Exile. It had also suffered a kind of fracturing of the heart as it left behind all that it held dear in life and worship. God’s promise is far-reaching and will heal their inner and outer fragmentation. God offers them a covenant of peace.
Covenants are two-way. Israel has her part to play in this new stage of her relationship with God. What is asked is faithfulness in every area of their lives. Nothing is outside God’s remit.
As the war continues in Ukraine the biblical promise of peace can seem illusory. For those whose lives have been shattered, the hope of an end to the war is a life-line.
Using the responsorial psalm verse as a repeated prayer or mantra can often be a very helpful way into the Liturgy of the Word. It’s especially helpful today as the theme of covenant links our readings. God’s faithfulness to us and our faithfulness to God is the foundational to the story of our salvation. We can trace a path through the Scriptures of God’s desire to reach out in love to the whole of humanity.
In the Gospel today Jesus confounds his hearers by declaring ‘before Abraham came to be, I AM.’ The Pharisees hear this literally. What Jesus is saying is that every covenantal promise made to Abraham and every generation thereafter comes to fulfilment in Him. This is blasphemy to their ears. It’s easy to scapegoat the Pharisees and pat ourselves on the back because we can grasp what Jesus is saying. The invitation to the Pharisees and to us today is one and the same: live lives of faithfulness and love that the world may believe.
In the remaining days of Lent how can you live in faithfulness?
As we get closer to Holy Week there is a sense of growing tension in every encounter that Jesus has. He is challenged on every level and his responses only add to the confusion of his hearers. Today he makes a very simple appeal: if you don’t believe in me, at least believe in what I am doing.
The past two years have demanded a lot of us as a nation. I think there are many who serve us in public office who would want us to believe in them. We’ve grown weary of some styles of leadership and are less than impressed with what they do. In short, we don’t believe in them or what they do.
The words of Jesus challenge us to live in such a way that others can see God at work in us. Sometimes this will be through the practical things that we do. Sometimes it will be through the subtlety of inner work. One can help the other.
How can you live so that others can see God’s work in you?
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 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, this quotation 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.
Use your Bible today. Find your favourite quotations.
It’s not always easy to think yourself into the mindset of those who set themselves against Jesus in the Gospels. We’ve heard the texts for years and through our baptism we are fully committed to Jesus. We have no other frame of reference. The Pharisees are studiers of the Law in all its beauty and power. They want to see the way ahead, but just can’t. They take Jesus literally when he speaks. This isn’t quite enough.
In our Gospel today Jesus changes tack and speaks of his relationship with his Father. In the most intimate of language we hear that Jesus and the Father are one and that Jesus does ‘what pleases him.’ The Pharisees still can’t understand.
When I hear the phrase ‘I do always what pleases him’, my heart sinks a little. This sounds like a very hard thing. The Jesuits have a helpful way of looking at this and speak of ‘wanting to want what God wants’. I can manage this.
As we move towards Holy Week there is a sense of growing tension in our Gospel texts. Jesus’ actions are being watched very closely and every word of his teaching is being scrutinised. Vigorous debate and cross questioning were an important part of the faith world of Jesus. It’s easy to forget this when we see him being confronted in the Temple. Jesus often replies in ways that must have been shocking to his hearers. To declare himself the light of the world is the boldest of claims.
I am the LIGHT of the world; anyone who follows me will not be walking in the dark; he will have the light of LIFE.
We see this quotation on posters and prayer cards and we sing it in our hymns. It comforts us. But does it challenge us too? What would it mean for us to really follow Christ? What would it mean for us to have the light of life? What would it mean for us to have all that we do and say flooded with Christ’s light?
At baptism our parents and godparents stood around the font holding candles which had been lit from the Paschal candle. They put their hope in Christ who is our light. They pledged that you and I would always walk in that light.
Light a candle today and thank God for the blessings you received at Baptism.
