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Commentary on Zephaniah 3:14-18 or Romans 12:9-16; Luke 1:39-56

Today’s feast commemorates the visit that Mary, already pregnant with Jesus, made to her older cousin, Elizabeth, who was pregnant with the future John the Baptist. This story is within the Infancy Narrative of Luke’s Gospel, immediately after the account of the Annunciation, when Mary was asked by the angel to become the mother of Jesus. She had given her unconditional assent to the request, even though at first she found it difficult to understand because, although she was already committed in marriage to Joseph, they had not begun to live together. Nevertheless, after the assurance of the angel, she put herself totally in God’s hands:

Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word. (Luke 1:38)

It is shortly after this that Mary travels south from Galilee to a town in Judah (the province where Jerusalem was located). We are told that she went “in haste” as if keen to congratulate her cousin, who strictly speaking was well beyond the age to have a child. She entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. Immediately, the child in Elizabeth’s womb leapt in joyful welcome. It is not Mary who makes the child do this, but rather the Child that Mary is carrying.

Elizabeth, inspired by the Spirit, then cries out:

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

And then she asks in surprise,

And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.

For there is a surprise here. If anyone should be making the visit, it really should be Elizabeth to the Mother of the Son of God. But no, it is Mary with Jesus who visits. It is an anticipation of something that Jesus will tell his disciples later on:

…the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve…
(Mark 10:45)

It is part of his kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus as part of his mission to communicate God’s love to us.

Elizabeth then goes on with words of praise for Mary herself:

And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.

It is the faith of Mary in God’s word that she praises. Although not having had intimate relations with any man, her trust in the words of the angel has been vindicated—and she is carrying the Child.

It is then that Mary, in response to Elizabeth’s words, speaks her hymn of praise and thanksgiving to God, a hymn we know as the Magnificat, from its first word in the Latin version. It is a hymn which has many resemblances to the hymn that Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel, sings after she, although past child-bearing age, gives birth to her son (1 Sam 2:1-10).

First of all, Mary thanks God for taking notice of her in her lowliness. She was a simple girl living in a small town, someone of no consequence in the eyes of the world. Yet, as she rightly foresees, all ages will call her blessed because God has done such great things for her—called her to be the earthly mother of God’s own Son, and the instrument by which he would come to share our human nature. And she has words for all those who submit themselves in loving obedience to God: His mercy is from age to age to those who fear him.

In contrast, it is those who think they are powerful and strong, those who are arrogant in mind and heart, who meet their downfall, while those who accept their lowliness before God are lifted up:

…he has filled the hungry with good things
and sent the rich away empty.

The ‘hungry’ are those who are aware that they themselves have nothing and that all is a gift from God. The rich are those who think they have it all when in truth, they have nothing that lasts. It is a teaching that will go right through the Gospel.

Mary, of course, lived out this prayer all during her life as she supported and stood by her Son to the very end. It seemed to end in disaster at the foot of the Cross, but that was not the end. New life, a life that no one can take away, was to come.

There is a choice of two First Readings. The first is from the prophet Zephaniah and reflects the joy of the Visitation, the joy of the two cousins with their children as they greet each other:

Sing aloud, O daughter Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!

For indeed the birth of these two children is a cause of joy for all God’s people:

The Lord, your God, is in your midst…he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will renew you in his love…

Yes, their Saviour is already in their midst but they do not know it yet. They will have to wait another 30 years until Jesus appears on the scene and brings the Good News of his Father. But the beginnings of the story are already here in today’s celebration.

The alternate First Reading suggested for today is from St Paul’s Letter to the Romans. It consists really of instructions on the spirit in which we should live our lives. It summarises, in part, the teaching that Jesus will later communicate to his disciples and all those who make him their Lord. Later, Jesus in his manhood will communicate these lessons not just by his words, but by the way he lives and relates to all those he encounters:

Let love be genuine; hate what is evil; hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.

This is just what we see taking place between Mary and Elizabeth as they meet together. It is the way in which we, too, should behave in dealing with all the people who come into our lives.

Further on, Paul says:

Contribute to the needs of the saints [the hagioi, members of the Christian community]; pursue hospitality…Bless those who persecute you…Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be arrogant, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are.

Clearly this is a challenging programme! But we know that it is the only way to go. Let us, then, today truly give our welcome to Jesus and do that by our every word and action.

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Commentary on Acts 1:1-11; Hebrews 9:24-28,10:19-23; Luke 24:46-53

The First Reading and the Gospel today seem to be in contradiction with each other. Although both are written by Luke, the Gospel says that Jesus’ ascension was on Easter Sunday and the Acts of the Apostles says it was 40 days after the Resurrection. The Gospel also seems to say that the Resurrection and the Ascension are one thing while Acts seems to say they are two separate events.

In fact, the Ascension is part of the Resurrection. Resurrection emphasises that Jesus has entered a new life and not just that he recovered his previous life. The Ascension emphasises that the risen Jesus is together with the Father and that he shares the place and dignity of the Father.

Real meaning of Ascension
The real meaning of the Ascension is in the Second Reading, a passage from St Paul’s magnificent Letter to the Hebrews. The author makes a clear distinction between the role of Jesus and that of the Jewish High Priest. Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands; he entered the dwelling place of God himself. Nor, unlike the High Priest, did or does Jesus enter the sanctuary again and again, as the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies every year. Nor did he, again unlike the High Priest, offer blood that was not his own—the blood of goats and bulls. Jesus entered God’s presence by the spilling of his own blood on the cross:

Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many [i.e. all], will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.

Washed totally clean
How are we to share in all of this? It is again put very well in the second part of the Second Reading:

…since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.

Jesus has totally replaced the old way, i.e. the old covenant. The place where God is is the new Holy of Holies. Jesus is the curtain through which we, all of us sharing in the priesthood of Christ, have access to that presence. That is the meaning of the Ascension, which we celebrate today.

Therefore, we have no need to fear. We have freedom and, by the death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus, we can go into the holiest place. This is the path which has been opened for us through our baptism and our participation in the life of the Christian community.

Continuing the work of Jesus
But before we go to share Jesus’ glory, there is work to be done. When Jesus left us, he made it clear that he wanted us to carry on the work he had begun. He said that we could do the same things he did, and even greater. So before leaving them, he tells his disciples to go back to Jerusalem and there wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

This experience will be their baptism when they will become filled with the very Spirit of Jesus. But before Jesus leaves them, Acts tells us that the disciples ask him:

Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?

Even at this late moment, they still do not understand the meaning of Jesus’ life and work. They still do not understand what kind of Messiah he is.

Jesus will not just restore the kingdom of Israel; he will establish a new Kingdom altogether. This Kingdom will be open to include all the people of the world. It will not be a political force or a military power. Rather, it will be—as the Preface of the Mass of Christ the King says,

An eternal and universal kingdom:
a kingdom of truth and life,
a kingdom of holiness and grace,
a kingdom of justice, love, and peace.

The disciples will soon learn this, accept it and promulgate it everywhere. For after they receive the Spirit of Jesus themselves, they themselves will begin to inaugurate the Kingship of God not only in Israel (Jerusalem and Judea), but in time to the very ends of the earth. This is their mission—and ours—to carry the message of Jesus to the whole world.

As Jesus spoke, he is covered by a cloud, clearly indicating the enveloping presence of God. Jesus can no longer be seen. But the Ascension should not be understood too literally, as if Jesus floated up into the sky to a place called ‘heaven’. Rather he is wrapped in the all-embracing presence of his Father, symbolised by the cloud.

Lower your eyes
As Jesus disappears from their sight, the disciples continue to gaze upwards into the sky. It is then that two men wearing white clothes stand beside them and say:

Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.

Did they take these words to mean that they, in their lifetime, would see him return? Time would show that this was not the meaning of the messengers’ words. The nameless messengers in white are understood to be angels—direct representatives of God—indicating the importance of what is happening. They were also present at the Resurrection.

A new lesson
The disciples have a new lesson to learn: they will not now find Jesus in the sky, in “heaven”. The Jesus they knew before the Crucifixion has left them for good. They have to go back to Jerusalem. There, through the outpouring of the Spirit of the Father and Jesus on them, they will begin to understand and grow in understanding. If they want to find Jesus, they will find him in the Christian community—in those they mix with every day of their lives.

Every time they receive the love of a brother or sister, it is the presence of Jesus. Every time they share their love with a brother or sister, they are making Jesus present to that person. They—and we—are to be Jesus in this world. We are to be the visible presence of Jesus. It is really a great challenge and a rather scary responsibility.

When people see me, do they see Jesus? When people see me, do they want to know Jesus? When people see me, do they want to join our community, share our life, and take the Gospel as the foundation of their life? That is the meaning of the Ascension.

Today we gather here not only to remember something that happened a long time ago; we are also here to remind ourselves that when Jesus left us he gave us a very important mission. That mission was and is to continue his loving and redemptive presence in the world. Let us ask him today to help us, together with him, to carry out that huge responsibility in the way he wants.

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Note: When the Ascension of Our Lord is celebrated on the following Sunday, the Second Reading (Rev 22:12-14,16-17,20) and the Gospel (John 17:20-26) of the Seventh Sunday of Easter may be used today.

Commentary on Acts 15:1-2,22-29; Revelation 21:10-14,22-23; John 14:23-29

Two sides of Christian living are reflected in today’s readings. The Gospel radiates a calmness and peace and reassurance that we all need so much. However, the First Reading reflects the areas of difference and conflict that are bound to arise when even Christians come face to face with new problems and new questions for the articulation of their faith. Such conflicts, when properly handled, are necessary, even desirable, if we are to have a deeper understanding of the real meaning of our faith in a changing world.

God speaks to us through the changing situations in which the world finds itself. So, at first sight the answers are not always clear. There are different interpretations and even disagreements until we find where the Spirit is leading us. We have conflicts like that today in questions about married priests, women clergy, marriage and family planning, death and dying, sexual relationships and sexual orientations, and other complex issues.

Yet both calm and conflict have something in common. They remind us of the different ways in which God speaks to us. Through his Spirit, which Jesus promises to send after he has left his disciples in the flesh, he will continue to be present to us and to be with his community, the Church. He says:

Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.

The proof of our love for Jesus is that we keep his word, and in turn we will experience the love of the Father, and the Father and Jesus will make their home in us. If we only had those words from Jesus and nothing else, they would be enough to guide us through life and point us in the right direction.

Love is a Verb
Love, as has been said, is not a feeling—it is a verb. For example, we might hear someone say: “There is no love in our marriage any more”; or, “There is no love in our family… our office… our group.” What is really being said is that there are no feelings of ‘love’ for the simple reason that there is no love going on. There can be no love (feeling) without loving (doing). And anyone can start the process.

For Jesus, love—by which he means loving—is achieved by keeping his word. The ‘word’ of Jesus must not be limited to what we were taught as commandments or doctrines or moral behaviour, although it obviously includes these. The ‘word’ of Jesus embraces everything we know about him through the Scripture—his words, his actions, his relationships with people of all kinds, the guiding principles of his life and his values and attitudes. Above all, it includes his blueprint for the setting up of the Kingdom.

Jesus is the Word of God not only because of what comes from his lips, but from the whole impact of his life—from his birth in an animals’ shelter at Bethlehem to the appalling last moments of agony and humiliation on the Cross. To ‘keep Jesus’ words’ is to embrace all of that, to identify with it and make it real in the particular context of my own life.

We may say, too, that the ‘word’ of Jesus also comes to us from all our interactions and experiences within the Christian community where Jesus still speaks to us. It comes to us through the whole of creation of which Jesus is the Head and with which he identifies through his Creator Father.

Nice and Soothing
The words of today’s Gospel are relatively abstract. They sound so nice and soothing, which is perhaps why they are so easy to digest. But life is not abstract; it constantly puts us face to face with the nitty-gritty. The Church, too, is not abstract although we often speak impersonally of it in phrases such as “Why doesn’t the Church…?”; “What does the Church say…?” and so on.

The Church is much more than an organisation founded 2,000 years ago by Jesus Christ. It is, as the Second Vatican Council emphasised, a people. It is a community—at times a rather fractious, disjointed, flawed community—whose members in varying degrees share their faith and hope, their love and caring. It is a community which, with and in Jesus, is called to work for the transformation of our world of sin and weakness, to make it, in the words of Revelation today, a city where:

…the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb.

It is through this community, with all its faults (and they are many), that the Spirit continues to speak as it did in the days of the first disciples. That Spirit of the Father and Jesus speaks not only through the pope, bishops and priests, but can and does speak through each and every one of the members of Christ’s Body—old or young, educated or illiterate, men or women, friends or enemies.

Today, bishops and priests are urged to listen to each other and to listen to the whole community. In its Decree on the Lay Apostolate (paragraph 10), the Second Vatican Council said that the laity should:

“…develop the habit of bringing before the ecclesial community their own problems, world problems, and questions regarding men’s (sic) salvation, to examine them together and to solve them by general discussion.”

Working Together
We may think this is something new, but we see it at work right from the beginning of the Church’s existence. We have a lovely example in today’s First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles where there was a new problem arising in these early church communities.

Many non-Jews were becoming Christians, but some of the Jewish Christians wanted the non-Jews to observe (as they themselves continued to do) the laws of Moses, especially the distinguishing badge (for men) of circumcision. It was difficult for anyone from a Jewish background to accept the abandonment of this very distinctive mark of identity for God’s people.

However, some of the Apostles and others working among non-Jews were opposed to this.* After a long discussion, which, we may imagine by reading between the lines, must have been quite heated at times, the leaders of the Church agreed that non-Jewish converts did not have to observe Jewish laws, especially that of circumcision. They did ask for some exceptions, namely, that all Christians continue to abstain from food sacrificed to idols, from blood, from animals that had been strangled and from extra-marital sexual activities or marriages against prevailing Jewish law.

These were things that even non-Jews were expected to observe when living among Jews. Promiscuity was something taken lightly in Greek culture and often connected with temple prostitutes. However, the imposition of some dietary restrictions (which have been long since abandoned) was surely to avoid unnecessarily hurting the sensitivities of Jewish converts. Paul speaks about this in his Letter to the Romans (chap 14).

The Church leaders made it clear that their decision was not theirs alone. In their letter to the “gentile belivers”, they said:

…it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us…

This was only the implementation of Jesus’ own words that his authority would be passed over to the community of his followers:

…whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven [i.e. acknowledged as binding by God]…

And again:

…the Advocate [Paraclete], the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name [it happened at Pentecost], will teach you everything and remind you of all that I have said to you.

And He still continues to teach us in our own times.

Spirit-Filled
This decision was reached ultimately by consensus, because many of the community expressed their opinion and shared their experiences. The leaders, then as now with a bias for retaining the status quo, recognised the presence of the Holy Spirit in the arguments of those who had been called back from their mission fields and who had first-hand knowledge of the high calibre of the new non-Jewish disciples. It was clear that the Spirit of God had entered into these people’s hearts as much as it had into that of Jewish-born disciples.

It was a major turning point in the development of Christianity. It involved a ‘paradigm shift’, a radical alteration of the way truth and reality were to be seen. It happened because some people were open to what God was clearly saying through circumstances and experience. It is an openness that is both valid and needed in today’s Christian communities, large and small, and even in individual lives.

In subsequent years, Paul had constantly to warn people against wanting to slide back to the old ways—people who wanted to re-introduce circumcision and other items of Jewish custom. He told the Galatians:

For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. (Gal 5:1)

We see the same tendency in the Church today, in people who want to turn the clock back and resurrect old customs and impose them on others. These people tend to make the Church an end in itself. The Church is primarily a vehicle, a means by which the experience of God’s love is extended to the whole world. And, if the Church is to be true to the Spirit, it must remain open to the world, for it is the world which, in the words of one theologian, “writes the agenda for the Church”.

It was precisely because they listened to the situation of the new non-Jewish converts that the Church realised where the Spirit was leading it. When the Church becomes an enclosed, elitist society sitting in unbending judgement on the rest of the world, it is no longer the Church that Jesus founded.

Collectively and individually, we need to become aware of the wonderful ways that the Lord can come into our lives. If we give a little time to God each day, if we can remain completely still for even a short while, we can experience an overpowering desire to share in the loving that is reaching out to us from God—and then start reaching out ourselves. God wants to share with us more and more of what he has and is. The problem is that most of us hardly give him a chance. Loving is not only a verb; it is also a two-way street.

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*On the purely physical level, for an adult convert to be circumcised, given the limitations of ancient surgical practices, would surely be a very painful experience. On a psychological level, what would seem to non-Jews a mutilation of the male sexual organ would surely be regarded by some very difficult to accept.

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Commentary on Acts 14:21-27; Revelation 21:1-5; John 13:31-33,34-35

Easter is the time when we both remember and celebrate the new life which has come to us through our Risen Lord. What do we mean by this ‘new life’? Can you say that you have experienced ‘new life’ this Easter or, for that matter, in any previous Easter? Are you aware of becoming changed in any way—for the better—over the years? Or has the Easter experience simply passed you by?

The word ‘new’ appears several times in today’s readings. The passage from Revelation speaks of a “new heaven”, a “new earth” and a “new Jerusalem”. Jesus in the Gospel speaks of a “new commandment”. What’s supposed to be ‘new’?

A new life in Christ, of course, is something that can come early or late into the life of a person. For many saints it came after quite a long period of loose and immoral living without God—St Augustine and St Ignatius Loyola come to mind. For others, like Therese of Lisieux, it came relatively early. She was already a saint when she died at the tender age of 24. For most of us, it is something that may come in waves. In other words, it will not be a once-for-all experience, but something that comes at different stages in our life, each time bringing us to a deeper level of understanding, insight and commitment.

Conversion
The “new life” that the Scripture speaks of is also referred to as ‘conversion’, a turning round (Greek, metanoia). It means a radical change of vision and of our priorities in life. It means new attitudes, new values, new standards of relating with God and with people and indeed with our whole living environment of which we are a synergistic part.

In the Gospel Jesus speaks of the foundation and heart of his teaching and message. These are his parting words to his disciples before he goes to his Passion and death. What is this message? Is it to be faithful in keeping the Ten Commandments and leading a moral life? Not exactly. Does he warn us to be sure to be in church every Sunday and to go to confession regularly? Not really. Does he tell us to use all our energies in loving God? Surprisingly, perhaps, no!

What he does tell us is to love other people—and to love them as he has loved us. This, he says, is a “new commandment”. The Hebrew Testament told us to love God with our whole heart, our whole mind and our whole soul, and to love our neighbours as ourselves. Jesus has added a new element in telling us that the true test of discipleship is to love other people in the same way that he has loved us. And we might remember that these words lead the way to the greatest possible love that a person can show, that is, by letting go of one’s very life for others. This Jesus will very dramatically portray in the terrible suffering and degradation which he will submit to out of love for us—out of love for me.

The only valid test
To incorporate that level of love in my life will surely call for a new way of thinking, of seeing, of behaving and of interacting with other people. And it will be the test, the only valid test, of whether I truly love God as well. Is this really the way, is this the frame of mind in which I live my normal day? Or rather, let me say, is this the way we—who dare to call ourselves Christians—live our normal days?

For it is clear that the disciple of Christ is not primarily an individual person, but an ‘inter-person’. I am defined as a disciple not by how I individually behave—my personal moral life—but by how I ‘inter-act’ with other people. The ‘solitary Christian’ is a contradiction in terms because the Christian is only to be measured by the way he/she loves and that love, by definition, involves other people. I am my relationships.*

What is love?
The word ‘love’, of course, can lead to misunderstandings. The word is used by us mainly in contexts which imply deep affection, emotional attraction and a good feeling when the beloved is around or even just thought of. That is not quite the meaning of the word in this context. The word that is used by John in this passage is the Greek word, agape.

This is not, strictly speaking, love in the mutual or romantic sense. Rather, it implies a reaching out to others in a caring attitude for their well-being, irrespective of whether there will be a similar response by the other. It is the compassion that Jesus shows for the sinner and the evil person. It would be impossible for me to love a Hitler or child abuser in the first sense. It would have no meaning and Jesus does not expect me to create such an artificial attitude.

Loving enemies
On the other hand, in terms of deep caring for the good of another, I can certainly ‘agape-love’ an evil person or any other person who causes me difficulties—who I believe has hurt me or failed me or who simply behaves in a way which I cannot accept as good. This is what makes it possible for me to ‘love’ my ‘enemies’ and to pray for them and to wish God’s blessings on them so that they may change their ways (not to suit me, but for their own well-being and to bring them back into harmony with God’s way).

It is why the true Christian disciple does not in fact have enemies. This is what Jesus is doing in praying for forgiveness for those who were nailing him to the cross. He loves them then not as close friends (obviously), but as people who truly needed enlightenment about what they were doing not just to him, but to themselves. Jesus cared; he had a deep sense of agape-love at that moment.

In the First Reading, from Acts, we see another form of agape on the part of two early missionaries, Paul and Barnabas. They went through all kinds of hardships and misunderstandings so that the message and vision of Jesus might be communicated to as many people as they could reach. And to those who were already Christians they gave support and encouragement to persevere in their Christian convictions.

In this sense then, can people say of me that I am a truly loving, caring and forgiving person? Can they say that I am a redeeming person, a person who makes hurt people whole again? It is all that Jesus, on the threshold of his suffering and death, asks of me and nothing else. It is not impossible, it is not hopelessly idealistic and it does not require massive willpower and self-control. What it does require is a change in attitude and in the way I see the world, others and myself.

Where do I fail?
I might reflect today on the ways I personally fail to be a loving, caring, compassionate and understanding person. Who are the people I really love and care for? Who are the people I cannot bring myself to love and care for—and why? Who are the people I never even think of loving and caring for—and why? Do I only love the people of my own race, my own class, my own religion?

Do I care for anybody outside the circle of my family and immediate friends? Do I love and care for my family members? Whom do I regard as my friends and why? Do I love and care in any tangible way for people who need my care—however indirectly—even though I do not know them and they can give me nothing in return, e.g. the poor, the addicted, the exploited and marginalised in my own and other communities?

Finally, do I really love myself? A great deal of our difficulty in extending love and especially forgiveness to others is our own insecurity and the fragility of our egos, which can be so easily hurt. Only those persons who are fully convinced that they are themselves lovable can reach out comfortably and unconditionally to love those who themselves cannot love, but can only hurt and hate and destroy.

It is through this constant love-centred interaction among each other that the “new heaven and a new earth” and the “new Jerusalem” can begin to come into existence. It is in our hands, and we have a perfect example in Jesus our Lord.

As disciples of Jesus, imbued with his message of agape, loving in the way that he loved us, we are called to do the same—to give support to our fellow disciples and to share our faith and our love with as many people as possible. The words of the Second Reading from Revelation apply very suitably here:

See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them and be their God;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

It is precisely by our being an agape-filled people that God will come into people’s lives in this way. It is through this constant love-centred interaction among each other that the new earth, the new heaven and the new Jerusalem can begin to come into existence—not at some unknown future time and in some other place, but here and now. Today. It is in our hands. All we have to do is follow the lead of Jesus the Lord.

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*This, it could be said, is the vital distinction between being a Christian and being involved in other religious or quasi-religious activities such as yoga, secular meditation or other ‘New Age’ practices to which many ex-Christians turn. However, most of these are ‘inner-centred’, aimed at personal peace of mind and developing coping skills in order to survive in a surrounding society.

Christianity is primarily concerned at reaching out, at building communities whose main concern is together to work for the transformation of our whole society in the vision of the Kingdom. It might also be said that all the other great religions, including Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam and Judaism, are also community-centred. Further, all of these religions include as integral parts prayer, meditation and contemplation. In truth, the aim of these religions is not limited to just helping the individual cope. And in the case of Christianity, the aim is to help with strengthening one’s understanding of and commitment to the common vision of the Kingdom.

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Commentary on Acts 13:14,43-52; Revelation 7:9,14-17; John 10:27-30

In the First Reading, Paul (as he is now called) and Barnabas say to the people of Antioch in Pisidia:

…the Lord has commanded us, saying,
‘I have set you to be a light for the gentiles,
so that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth.’

We are then told that:

When the gentiles heard this, they were glad and praised the word of the Lord, and as many as had been destined for eternal life became believers.

Today, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, is commonly known as ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’ (because the Gospel is taken from Jesus’ teaching in chapter 10 of John’s Gospel about himself as the Good Shepherd). But it is also known as ‘Vocation Sunday’ because on this day we pray especially that more may answer the call to serve the Church in a special way (as did Paul and Barnabas), particularly as pastors and religious.

In his various letters, Paul speaks strongly of the unity of faith and love that binds all Christians together. Jesus at his Last Supper also prayed that all his followers be one. This would be the most potent sign of his presence among us.

But Paul also emphasises another important characteristic. Unity does not mean uniformity; it does not mean that all are exactly the same. We are not clones. Quite the opposite, in fact. He speaks of a huge variety in the Christian community. It is this variety that makes the unity so striking. This variety is based on the special gifts that each one has received. These gifts are called ‘charisms’. “Charism” comes from the Greek word charis, which means a gift or grace.

Like the human body
In his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul compares the Christian community to the human body (see 1 Cor 12:12-31). The body consists of a large number of separate organs, external and internal. Each one has its own particular functions, which are totally different from others. He writes:

Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. (1 Cor 12:14-18)

Paul continues:

But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable… If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. (1 Cor 12:24-27)

The parts of the Christian body
But in the body that is the Christian community, what are these parts? They are the charisms, the special gifts and abilities which have been given to each one by the Holy Spirit. There are no exceptions! And these gifts are given for just one purpose: to build up the whole body of the Christian community, the Church. They are not just for me, they are not even just to help me become a holy person.

Again in his First Letter to the Christians of Corinth, Paul lists some of the main charisms:

And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work powerful deeds? Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? (1 Cor 12:28-30)

What is my charism?
In our parish we might ask, “Are all priests? Are all sisters? Are all Scripture readers? Are all choir directors or choir members?” But we can also ask each one here: “What is your charism? What have you been given so that you can make a personal contribution to the life of this community?” Maybe it is as a parent forming children; maybe it is as a teacher educating young people not just to know mathematics and geography, but to become constructive members of our society and Church; maybe it is as a civil servant, a policeman, a fireman, or a businessman, an engineer or as an architect. The question is: how do you express your Christian faith through your daily work? How do you serve the Christian community by what you do?

All are called
The first thing we need to say on this Vocation Sunday is that every single person here has a vocation, every single person here has been and is being called by God through the Holy Spirit to offer their special gifts to the rest of the community. What is your vocation? What is your special gift? What contribution are you making to the life of this parish both inside the Church and outside it?

Today we are being asked to pray in a special way for particular types of vocations which are very necessary for the life of the Church. We need pastoral shepherds for our parish communities and we do not have enough. We need the special witness that religious give through lives of celibacy, poverty and obedience.

What we are praying for is not so much more vocations, because the Holy Spirit is surely calling those who are needed for the service of the Church. Rather we are praying that those who are being called will answer the call.

Praying for other people
At the same time, while we pray fervently for vocations to the priesthood and religious life, and give generously in the collection for the seminary, there is a real danger that we are praying for other people’s vocations—for other parents to generously encourage their children to enter the seminary or the convent.

No, Vocation Sunday is for all of us here. On the one hand, each one needs to reflect on what their particular calling is and how they can respond to it for the well-being of the whole parish community. Secondly, we each need to help and not be an obstacle to others in responding to the particular calling or grace that God through his Spirit is giving them.

We sometimes speak of a ‘vocation crisis’. There is no vocation crisis in the sense that everyone has a vocation. There is no vocation crisis in that far more lay people are now being formed for pastoral service in the Church than was the case in even the relatively recent past. There is a crisis in that too many are not aware of their vocation or, if they are, they are not responding to it. Let us pray today that every one of us here will be sensitive to the guidance of the Spirit in our lives and that we may respond generously to the calls which he is making on us. If we all actively responded to that call what a wonderful community we would be!

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Commentary on Acts 5:27-32,40-41; Revelation 5:11-14; John 21:1-19

We continue to look at the experience the disciples had of the Risen Jesus. Today’s readings speak of the meaning of discipleship both in our internal attitudes and in our relating with other people. The Gospel and, to some extent, the Second Reading speak of recognising the presence of God and of Jesus in our daily life while the Second Reading also calls us to witness to our faith with consistency and courage. One flows from the other. To be a genuine disciple of Jesus, it is not enough just to be ‘holy’ and to be good, but to have the courage, when the call comes, to do difficult things and perhaps even to suffer. In sharing the suffering of Jesus we also share in his glory.

Back to old ways?
Let us first look at the Gospel, in which the Risen Jesus reveals himself to his disciples. Jesus, some days previously, had died on the Cross. His followers, including Peter, who had made such great protestations of loyalty, had fled. As far as they were concerned, it was all over and they themselves were in danger. Today’s Gospel implies that they had left Jerusalem and gone all the way back to their native Galilee to resume their former way of life as fishermen. The previous three years had been an interesting and even exciting interlude in their lives, but now they were back to what they had always been doing.

It is early morning. They are all tired and disappointed. After a whole night’s fishing, they had caught absolutely nothing. They had forgotten the words of Jesus, who said:

…apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:5)

Suddenly, a stranger on the shore, perhaps a shadowy outline in the morning’s half-light, begins a dialogue with them:

Children, you have no fish, have you?

Reluctantly the fishermen (and you know what fishermen are like!) admit they have caught nothing. They are then told:

Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.

They did so and they were overwhelmed. There were so many fish that they simply could not be taken into the boat.

The moment of insight
It is at that moment that the disciple whom Jesus loves, reading the meaning of what has just happened, cries out:

It is the Lord!

He says this, not because he has suddenly recognised the face of the stranger on the shore, but because he has recognised the hand of God and of Jesus in what has just taken place. (It is the same disciple who, after looking into the empty tomb on Easter morning, “saw and believed”. The arrangement of the burial cloths told him something that Peter did not recognise.)

Traditionally, the “disciple whom Jesus loves” is identified with John. But in this Easter context, it can be understood especially to refer to anyone who has a close relationship with Jesus. In the symbolism of the Gospels, the boat and those in it represent the Church, the community in Christ. And it is this ‘beloved disciple’, who is particularly close to Jesus, who can recognise his presence.

Peter and the others now also realise that Jesus is present. And, totally in character, the impetuous Peter jumps into the shallow water to go to Jesus. But not before putting on some clothes, for he was naked. Under the circumstances, this would have been quite normal, and perhaps none of the others were wearing clothes either. But in Peter’s situation, it had a different meaning. Nakedness implies innocence, but Peter is not innocent. He still has the shadow of his denial hanging over him. Like our first parents in the garden, he is covered with shameful guilt in the presence of his Lord. It is not until after they go ashore that he will be fully reconciled with the Jesus he betrayed. Meanwhile, the other disciples are left to bring in the boat and the catch.

Sharing bread with the Lord
When they come ashore they find the stranger-Lord is preparing a meal for them of bread and roasted fish. He tells them:

Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.

The fish “you” have caught? Yes, they had pulled them in, but without the Lord they would never have found them, because again:

…apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:5)

There are all the elements of a Eucharist here. They are in the presence of Jesus, the Word of God, and listening to him say “Come and have breakfast,” not unlike what he had said to them at his Last Supper with them:

…take, eat; this is my body… (Matt 26:26)

They and he are sharing what they have and eating in unity and community. This is such a simple scene, but it is a beautiful picture of the Church.

Who is he?
At the same time, there is what may seem a strange comment:

Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord.

This is something they have to learn. The Risen Jesus does not look as he used to look. He now takes on many forms, but with faith, they are sure it is he.

Jesus from now on has many faces—my friend’s, my enemy’s, my rich neighbour’s, my poor neighbour’s. He is especially to be found and recognised in the poor, the exploited, the disabled, the weak, the uneducated, the stranger and the foreigner. Jesus has a Jewish face, a Chinese face, an Indian face, a Filipino face, a Nigerian face, an Arab face and an American face—indeed, a face of people from every race, ethnicity, and culture all over the world.

Hymn to the Creator
Like the disciples, too, we must come to recognise him, not just at privileged moments of high spiritual experiences, but in the most mundane moments of our daily work. In doing so we are simply being one with all creation, which by its very existence is a hymn to the Creator, as expressed in today’s Second Reading:

Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea and all that is in them, singing,

“To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb
be blessing and honor and glory and might
forever and ever!”

As the ‘beloved disciple’ was the first to recognise the Lord in the shadowy stranger, so we too will have Jesus pointed out to us in our own lives. As well, it is our responsibility to help others recognise the presence of our Lord Jesus at work in their daily experiences. It can have such a liberating effect on people, and it is a real form of evangelisation that anyone can do.

Being Christ for others
There is, however, a further step demanded of us. It is not enough for us, in our own lives, to be aware of God’s presence among us. That realisation calls for a response on our part to make that presence a felt reality, a genuine experience for those around us as well. The disciples could not simply stay in the upper room relishing the joy of knowing that Jesus, their Lord and friend, was risen. Their encounter on the lakeside made them realise that they could no longer go back to their boats and live for themselves.

Making up
And so, after the meal with Jesus, we have the touching scene between him and Peter. Within one dialogue it combines two things. On the one hand, there is the reconciliation between Jesus and Peter. Despite all his posturings during the Last Supper about his being more faithful than all the others, it was Peter and Peter alone who denied with an oath three times that he had anything to do with Jesus. Now, in the gentlest of ways, the Risen Lord asks him:

Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?

Peter has learnt his lesson—the bravado is gone. He does not dare to compare himself with his fellow-disciples. Now he only speaks for himself:

Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.

Three times he is asked the same question, just as three times he had denied. It hurts him, and finally he says:

Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.

A special moment
And of course, it was true. It was always true, even when out of fear for his own safety, he denied Jesus. He had wept bitterly at that time, realising how he had betrayed his best friend. Some sins are a total rejection of God and mean a definitive turning away. Perhaps Judas was like that. But most of our sins are moments of weakness and do not represent a real turning away. Our going to confession is proof enough of that.

However, the dialogue is more than a moment of reconciliation. It is also the passing of the baton. Jesus now hands over to Peter and to his companions the mission he himself had been given by the Father: “Feed my sheep.” This is the responsibility of the Church and, as members of that Church, a responsibility that rests in varying degrees on every one of us. It is not just bishops, priests or religious who have this responsibility. It is also that of parents, teachers and most simply ourselves, as the brothers and sisters we are to each other.

Back to Jerusalem
The disciples now had to go back to Jerusalem where they began to proclaim what Jesus’ life, words, actions, suffering, death and rising to life meant for them and for everyone else as well. This we see recorded in the First Reading from Acts. The joy they had, the new meaning that had come into their lives because of their encounter with Jesus, simply had to be shared with others.

However, it was a message that not everyone wanted to hear. In fact, they were warned by civil and religious leaders to stop what they were doing. But they could not stop because they were guided by something deeper than human authority, the authority of God’s Truth and Love. Not even when they were arrested, punished and imprisoned could they stop. On the contrary, the scars of their beatings became badges of pride because they had shared in the humiliation and sufferings of Jesus their Lord.

An unpopular message
If we are to be truly disciples of Jesus, if we are to proclaim our faith in its fullness, we can expect that we will be misunderstood, that we may be pitied or despised, and that some may want to get rid of us—even violently. Thousands of our brothers and sisters, in many parts of the world and in our own lifetime, have had this experience. They do not regret it. Because of them, the message of Christ, the message of Truth and Love, lives on.

A Prayer to live by
Perhaps we could finish with the words of a prayer of Cardinal John Henry Newman (slightly adapted), which beautifully expresses what we have been considering:

Dear Jesus,
Help me to spread your fragrance everywhere I go.
Flood my soul with your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly
that all my life may be only a radiance of Yours.
Shine through me and be so in me
that every person I come in contact with
will feel your presence in me.
Let them look up and see,
not only me, but also Jesus.

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Commentary on Acts 5:12-16; Revelation 1:9-13,17-19; John 20:19-31

On this Divine Mercy Sunday—the first Sunday after the celebration of Easter—the emphasis is on faith in the presence and power of the living Jesus in our midst. About Divine Mercy Sunday, Pope John Paul II stated,

It is a time where we are blessed with divine mercy as it reaches us through the heart of Christ crucified.

The work of Jesus continues
The Risen Jesus now lives on in the community which believes in him. The Apostles are now endowed with the same powers that Jesus had during his life here on earth, not in their own name, but in the name of Jesus their Lord. In today’s First Reading, we are told:

…many signs and wonders were done among the people through the apostles.

And that:

…more than ever believers were added to the Lord, great numbers of both men and women…

People came crowding in from the towns round about Jerusalem, bringing with them their sick and those tormented by unclean spirits:

…they even carried out the sick into the streets and laid them on cots and mats, in order that Peter’s shadow might fall on some of them as he came by. A great number of people would also gather from the towns around Jerusalem, bringing the sick and those tormented by unclean spirits, and they were all cured.

It is living testimony that Jesus is active and continues his saving and whole-making work among us, for the disciples do these works in the name of Jesus their Lord.

The Apostles proclaim the message of Jesus as Saviour and invite people to join their company. We know that many indeed did come to join them, but there is a telling phrase in the First Reading that:

None of the rest dared to join them, but the people held them in high esteem.

Is this already a hint of the counter-witness of the early Christians when they were already being regarded with suspicion by the religious and civil authorities and when it was becoming dangerous to be identified with them? They were a group to be admired—but from a safe distance. It is yet another sign that the early followers were about to share the same fate as Jesus himself.

Mixed reactions to be expected
Things have not changed greatly in our own time. For it is through the Christian community and its witness that people come to know of Jesus and are led to faith in his message of truth and life. It is a witness that rests on the shoulders of every single follower of Jesus and we do it not just by explicitly religious actions, but by the very pattern and impact of our daily lives—an impact that arouses both positive and negative responses.

The Gospel, however, brings us back to an earlier stage when the disciples have not yet come to the full realisation that Jesus, whom they saw crucified, dead and buried, is now alive, that he is risen. As the Gospel opens we see them huddled together in that room with the doors firmly locked “for fear of the Jews.” At any moment they dreaded the arrival of the police to arrest them as accomplices of the dangerous subversive who had been executed on Golgotha the previous Friday.

Peace instead of fear
And then, all of a sudden, the Jesus they presumed dead is standing among them. He says in greeting:

Peace be with you.

This can be taken as a blessing, echoing the ordinary Jewish greeting, Shalom. Or it can be taken as a statement of a fact—Jesus essentially saying: “With my presence among you there comes deep inner peace.” This is the same peace that comes when Jesus calms the surrounding storms in the Gospel stories. They experience an unutterable joy:

Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

“Lord” is the title for the Risen Jesus.

But it is not just to be a happy reunion. There is work to be done, the work that Jesus began and which they are to continue:

As the Father has sent me, so I send you.

They are being given a mission. The word ‘mission’ comes from the Latin word ‘to send’ (mittere). All followers of Jesus have a mission—all are missionaries.

Passing on his Spirit
Then, when he had said this:

…he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

In John’s Gospel this is the Pentecost experience, when the Holy Spirit comes down on the disciples. In Luke’s Acts, Pentecost takes place 50 days after the Resurrection, but for John it takes place on Easter Day. For us, it makes no difference—the meaning is the same.

What Jesus does is reminiscent of the Creation story when God ‘breathed’ over the waters and brought life and order into the chaos. He ‘breathed’ again and Adam, the human being made in the image of God, comes into existence. Now, Jesus ‘breathes’ the Spirit of his Way, of his Truth and of his Life, making of the disciples (in Paul’s term) “new human beings,” full of the Spirit of the Father and Jesus.

The meaning of forgiveness
The very empowering authority of Jesus is transferred to them:

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.

When they act together in the name of Jesus, they have his authority. And above all, their task is to ‘forgive sin’, that is, to bring about a deep reconciliation between people and God and among people themselves, to make all one in Him:

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. (Matt 5:9)

We are not just talking here about “confession,” or the institution of the sacrament of reconciliation, although its roots can be traced to here. Forgiving sin is much more than a juridical act of declaring sins no longer held against someone. It involves the healing of wounds and division between God and people—and between people as brothers and sisters—in one family based on truth, love and justice. That is the work of the Kingdom. That is the work of every Christian community and every member in it.

The doubter
But there is even more to today’s story. Thomas, “one of the twelve,” was not there on that Easter Sunday. He stands for the sceptic in all of us:

Unless I see…I will not believe.

In the Gospel story, Thomas generally comes across as a bit of a grump. He likes to criticise, to put objections, to make difficulties, to call into question. He now wants convincing proof:

Unless I [can]…put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.

The following Sunday—in fact, the Sunday we are celebrating today—the doors are again closed. (This is now not out of fear but as an indication of the way that the Risen Jesus now becomes present.) Again there is the reassuring greeting of ‘Peace’. Jesus now addresses Thomas directly:

Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.

Extraordinary confession
There then follows the greatest confession of faith in all of the Gospels when Thomas says:

My Lord and my God!

Thomas had been invited to touch the wounds, but he does not seem to have done so. And his cry of recognition is not based only on the evidence of his senses. He does not say, “Jesus, it’s you!” Rather, he says “My Lord and my God!” It is, in fact, a profound act of faith in the reality and identity of the Person standing before him. And that is something he cannot see only with his physical senses. Only the eyes of faith can lead him to so speak.

Jesus gives a further word of encouragement, though, offered for those of us who have not had Thomas’ privileged experience:

Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.

Of course, all belief in Jesus involves some element of seeing, of ‘in-sight’. But we have not had the experience of seeing and knowing the Jesus of the Public Life—Jesus before his crucifixion.

However, our faith enables us to see him in all the surroundings of our daily life, especially in those people who are filled with his Spirit and who bring him into our lives. And we also see and find him in all the sick, the weak, the oppressed and the poor around us who provide us with opportunities to know, love and show compassion for Jesus. We are even to see him in those who are hostile or who do harm to us in the sense that we are challenged to be Christ for them in our unconditional love and concern for their well-being.

Breaking down barriers
To see and know Jesus in our lives is, at the same time, to recognise when he comes to us, as well as to be ready for day-to-day opportunities when we can bring him into the lives of others. Above all, can we be true to the mission Jesus gave to his disciples to be makers of reconciliation and to be peacemakers, breaking down walls of hatred, prejudice and fear? We do this by living lives of integrity, of love and compassion and of real justice for all. Each time we do that, Easter is celebrated and Jesus is alive among us.

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Commentary on Acts 10:34,37-43; Colossians 3:1-4 or 1 Corinthians 5:6-8; John 20:1-9 or Luke 24:1-12 (for afternoon Masses, Luke 24:13-35)

Our Easter celebrations form the heart of our Christian living. Our faith is deeply rooted and finds its real meaning in the resurrection of Jesus. St Paul says that, if Christ is not risen, then all our believing is in vain.* It is sad, then, to find people who make Good Friday and the death of Jesus the climax of Holy Week. However, attitudes change over time and more and more people have come to love the Easter Vigil liturgy, especially when it is done well.

Those Christians who depict the cross without the body of Christ on it are making a very important point. The cross was the high point of Jesus’ gift of himself to the Father for our sake, but he is no longer there and it was his entry into glory with the Father which gives the cross its validity. Otherwise, it would have been a journey into nothingness.

Because of the Resurrection, the disciples, who were at first paralysed with fear of being arrested as accomplices of Jesus, suddenly made a complete turnaround and began boldly to proclaim that Jesus, who died on the Cross, was alive and with them. And when, in fact, they were arrested, persecuted and imprisoned, it became a cause of rejoicing that they were now even more closely related to the life experience of their Lord, sharing in his sufferings that they might share in his glory.

A call for change
Easter, however, is not only concerned with recalling the resurrection of Jesus or its impact on the first disciples, but also with the meaning of this event for our own lives and for our faith. The celebration of Easter (and the days of Holy Week leading up to it) are a call for us to change—and perhaps change radically—as Jesus’ own disciples changed.

The sign that we are truly sharing in the risen life of Jesus is that our lives and our behaviour undergo a constant development. We not only believe, we not only proclaim, but we do what we believe and what we proclaim.

Proclamation and witness
The theme of today’s Mass includes both proclamation and witness. In the First Reading, we see Peter speaking after the baptism of Cornelius and his family, the first gentile Christians. He is speaking about his own experience and sharing that experience with the listening crowds. For the true disciple of Jesus, there is a close and indivisible relationship between experiencing and proclaiming. Because of Peter’s experience of knowing with utter conviction that Jesus, who died on the Cross, is now alive, he is so filled with joy that he simply must share that joy with others—so that it can be theirs, too.

We find a similar theme in both of the Second Readings (there is a choice of readings) and the Gospel. Paul was a Pharisee, a dedicated Pharisee and a man of integrity. He persecuted Christians because he saw in them a dangerous deviation from the Jewish Law and Jewish traditions. Then he, too, had that sudden experience when the Risen Jesus revealed himself while Paul was on his way to Damascus to bring the Christians (whom he saw as heretical Jews) into line.

That experience, as we know, brought about a total change in Paul’s life. It gave him a totally new vision of things and especially of the meaning of Jesus’ life and message. For the rest of his life, he used all his energies, the same energies he once used against Christians, to help others—Jews and non-Jews alike—to know, love and follow Jesus, his Lord.

Empty tomb
In John’s (and Luke’s) Gospel, we have the experience of the empty tomb as the sign of Jesus’ resurrection to life. Mary Magdalen saw the stone rolled back (it was so heavy; who could have managed to do such a thing?) and she went running to the disciples. Peter and the “other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved”, went to see for themselves. They ran to the tomb and, although the “other disciple” got there first, out of deference, he let Peter go in before him. They saw, they understood, and they believed. Until that moment, John’s Gospel says:

…for as yet they did not understand the scripture [the Hebrew testament], that he must rise from the dead.

The disciples on the way to Emmaus will also be made to recognize that the positive meaning of the sufferings of Jesus can be found in the Hebrew Testament for those who can see and understand (see Luke’s Gospel for the afternoon Masses).

Not just resuscitation
It is important, however, to be aware that the Resurrection is not simply the resuscitation of the body of Jesus after he died on the Cross. No one saw the Resurrection because there was nothing to see. The crucifixion is a historical event, but the Resurrection is a faith event. The Risen Jesus enters a completely new way of living; the post-Resurrection texts all indicate that. He is not recognised at first by even his intimate friends; he is everywhere that his disciples happen to be, and his new Body—the means of his being visibly present among us—is the community of his disciples. We are, quite literally at this time, the Body of Christ.

We see the beginnings of this in the next part of John’s Gospel that we will read during the first week of Easter. Peter and the ‘beloved disciple’ went back to their companions to tell them of their discovery. But Mary Magdalen, from whom seven demons had gone out, and who was now totally devoted to Jesus as her Lord and Master, stayed behind. She was distraught. Her beloved Master was not only dead; his body was now missing. In the tomb she saw two angels, representing God’s presence, who asked her why she was crying.

A familiar voice
At that very moment, she turned and saw Jesus but did not recognise him. This is a constant feature of post-Resurrection apparitions. Jesus is not recognised; he looks just like an ordinary person, any person. In this case, Mary thinks he is the gardener, and wonders if he is the one who has taken away the body of Jesus. When he calls her name, “Mary”, she immediately knows who it is. Earlier in John’s Gospel Jesus had said:

The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.
(John 10:3)

Mary then begins to cling passionately to Jesus, not wanting to let him go. But she has to let go—she is clinging to the ‘old’ Jesus. The Risen Jesus is going into glory with the Father. He will return, but in a very different way. From now on he will be found in all those who call themselves his disciples and who are united together as one Body—the Church and all its constituent local churches.

And Mary, too, runs back to the disciples proclaiming her personal experience:

…[she] announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and she told them that he had said these things to her.
(John 20:18)

The Gospel doesn’t say that she had ‘seen Jesus’, but that she had “seen the Lord”, i.e. the Risen Lord. And that is what evangelisation is about: it is not just the handing on of doctrines, but the sharing with others our experience of having seen the Lord in our own lives and inviting them to have the same experience.

The same mission
The celebration of Easter reminds us that we have the same mission as Peter and Mary Magdalen and the other disciples of Jesus. First, as the optional Second Reading from the First Letter to the Corinthians indicates, Easter calls for a radical conversion, a radical purging on our part. In the celebration of the Pasch, the Jews used to throw out all the leavened bread they had and replace it with freshly baked unleavened bread.

Because of the fermentation process that leavened bread undergoes, yeast was regarded as a corrupting agent. So Paul tells us that we, too, as we celebrate our Christian Passover, are to become:

…a new batch of dough, as you really are unleavened [in other words, free from all the corrupting influences in our life]. Therefore, let us celebrate the festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.

And, to go back to the First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Peter emphasises the importance of Jesus’ disciples not only experiencing the joy of their Risen Master and Lord, but also of sharing that experience and joy with as many people as possible. It is something we must do also. Not to share our Easter joy and what it means to us is to leave Easter only half celebrated. For the true Christian, in fact, every day is an Easter Day lived joyfully in the close company of the Risen Lord.

Witnesses
Peter says:

God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses…

They were those who witnessed Jesus’ preaching and healing, his arrest, execution and death, and also his being raised again to life.

And so Peter describes them as:

…[we] who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.

Is that not something that we, too, do every time we take part in the Eucharist—to eat and drink with the Risen Jesus? And what message comes from that? Have we satisfied our Christian responsibility just by being in church on Sunday?

He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead…that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.

There we have our mission.

Putting it in language that may be more easily understood today, Peter is saying that Jesus, and the way of life he proposes, is the yardstick by which people are to measure themselves, and not just as Christians, but as human beings. To attach oneself totally to the Way of Jesus, a way of Truth and Life, is to bring about a deep reconciliation with God and with all our brothers and sisters. It is to bring freedom, justice and peace into our world, and prepare us for the day when we all become one in our Creator God, the Father of Truth and Compassionate Love.

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*The Gospel was essentially written backwards. The trigger to its being written was the experience that Jesus the Rabbi had risen from the dead and was with God in glory. That experience, in turn, led to reflection on what at first seemed tragedy, disaster and failure—namely, the trial, suffering and death of Jesus. The Resurrection threw a totally different light on the Passion and Death of Jesus and led to a very different understanding of what was happening.

These reflections, in their turn, led to a reconsideration of the public life of Jesus—his teaching and what was now seen to be part of that teaching: his healing, forgiveness of sinners, the expulsion of evil spirits and giving life to the dead.

Last of all, came the stories about the origins of Jesus, the Infancy Narratives.

The longest part of Jesus’ life, between his childhood and the beginning of his Public Life, remained totally hidden to us, apparently not relevant to the main story.

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Commentary on Isaiah 50:4-7; Philippians 2:6-11; Luke 22:14—23:56

After five weeks of preparation we now enter the climax of the Lenten season and what we call Holy Week. In a way, the whole week from today until Easter Sunday should be seen as one unit—the presentation of the Paschal Mystery. This Paschal Mystery includes the suffering, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus into glory and the sending of the Spirit on the disciples of Jesus to continue the work he began. Although it is, for liturgical and catechetical reasons, spread over a period of seven weeks, it should also be seen as an indivisible single experience. This week sees the climax of the mission of Jesus Christ in which the deepest meaning of his life is unfolded, and in which his teaching becomes incarnated in his own words and actions.

Today’s celebration (for, strange to say, the terrible happenings we are about to listen to are truly a cause for celebration on our part) is divided into two distinct parts: the procession with palms and the Mass proper. (The particular Mass you attend may not include both parts, as many parishes will only do the first part at one of the day’s Masses.)

Joy and triumph
In the first part the prevailing atmosphere is one of joy, and the vestments in today’s liturgy are a triumphant red and not the violet which has prevailed during the other days of Lent. And the reading from the Gospel in this first part recalls the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem as King. He gets a rapturous reception from the crowd who acclaim him with words we still use in the “Holy, holy, holy…” of the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer. This scene is important, for in a few days’ time, the same triumphant Jesus will be reduced to a battered wreck of humanity:

So Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!” [Latin, Ecce homo!].

As we process through our church, with our palms (or their equivalent) in our hands, we too may sing with enthusiasm:

“Christ conquers, Christ is king, Christ is our ruler”
(Christus vincit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat).

There is a difference in our case for we know the end of the story and what is to come. Because of that, we sing with even greater conviction about the greatness of Jesus and a realisation of just why he is our King.

But even here there is shadow. For not all are spreading their clothes on the ground for Jesus to walk over or waving their branches. His enemies are watching and what they see only gives greater urgency to their desire to see the end of Jesus. In one way, they will succeed with a frightening ruthlessness to destroy Jesus. But of course, they will also fail utterly. Our presence here today is proof enough of that.

The mind of Christ
In a way, the real key to Holy Week is given in today’s Second Reading, which seems to be a hymn, incorporated by Paul in his letter to the Christians at Philippi, in northern Greece. It expresses the ‘mind’, the thinking of Jesus, a mind which Paul urges us to have also if we want to identify fully with Jesus as disciples:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…
(Phil 2:5)

The key word in today’s passage from Paul is “emptied.” This kenosis, or emptying, is at the heart of Jesus’ experience during his Passion.

In spite of Jesus’ identity with the nature of God, he did not insist on his status. He first of all took on himself in the fullest sense our human nature:

…who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. (Heb 4:15)

But even more, he reached down to the lowest level, the lowest class of human beings—the servant, the slave. That was still not the end. He let go of all human dignity, all human rights; he let go of life itself to die, not any “respectable” form of death, but the death of a convicted criminal in shame and nakedness and total abandonment.

To understand the sufferings, death and resurrection of Jesus one must fully grasp what Paul is saying here and, not only grasp it, but totally appropriate it into one’s own thinking so that one would be prepared, with God’s help, to go exactly the same way. Our normal sensitivities over even trifling hurts show us just how far we have to go to have the “mind of of the Lord.”

With the focus of the first two readings, we are now—hopefully—prepared for listening to Luke’s version of the Passion of Jesus, up to, but excluding the climax of resurrection.

So much to reflect on
Although efforts are now made to make the listening to the Passion less of an endurance test, there really is too much to be fully digested as we stand listening to one or three readers. Perhaps we should set aside a short period later in the day to go through the dramatic telling more at our leisure. Or perhaps we could focus on a particular passage which speaks to us more at this time.

There is:

• the last meal of Jesus with his disciples—a bitter-sweet experience for all;
• Jesus’ struggle with fear (even terror) and loneliness in the garden, ending in a sense of peace and acceptance;
• Peter’s denial of ever having known Jesus, the same Jesus with whom he had just eaten and who had invited him into the garden;
• the kiss of Judas, another disciple, sealing the fate of Jesus, and leading to bitter remorse and suicide;
• the rigged trial before the religious leaders and again before the contemptuous, cynical Pilate and the brief appearance before the superstitious and fearful Herod;
• the torture, humiliation and degradation of Jesus;
• the way of Calvary—the weeping women and the reluctant Simon of Cyrene;
• the crowds, so supportive on Sunday, who now laugh and mock;
• the murderous gangster promised eternal happiness that very day;
• the last words of forgiveness and total surrender (emptying) to the Father.

The drama is truly overpowering and needs really to be absorbed one incident at a time. It would be worth reflecting in which of these scenes I can see myself—with which characters I can identify as reacting in the way I probably would.

 Jesus—the focal point
Through it all there is Jesus. His enemies humiliate him, strike him and scourge him. Soldiers make a crown with thorns, a crown for the “King of the Jews” (an element of contemptuous racism here?), and Herod mocks him. Pilate, Roman-trained, makes a half-hearted attempt at justice, but his fear for his career prevails.

Jesus, for his part, does not strike back; he does not scold; he does not accuse or blame. He begs his Father to:

…forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.

Jesus seems to be the victim, but all through he is, in fact, the Master. He is master of the situation because he is master of himself.

So, as we go through this day and this week, let us look very carefully at Jesus our Saviour. We watch, not just to admire, but also to learn, and to penetrate the mind, the thinking, the attitudes and the values of Jesus so that we, in the very different circumstances of our own lives, may walk in his footsteps.

If we are to be his disciples, he invites us to walk his way, to share his sufferings, to imitate his attitudes, to ‘empty’ ourselves, to live in service of others—in short, to love others as he loves us. This is not at all a call to a life of pain and misery. Quite the contrary, it is an invitation to a life of deep freedom, peace and happiness. If it were anything else, it would not be worth considering.

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Commentary on Isaiah 43:16-21; Philippians 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

God has a very bad memory. That is one way we might express the theme of today’s readings. For the Scripture of today’s Mass speaks of how God is always compassionate to his people. No matter how many times the Israelites abandoned their God, no matter how many times they became ‘stiff-necked’ and refused to do his will, he always came to call them back.

In the whole of the New Testament we see God, in the person of Jesus, calling his sinful people to be converted, to put their whole trust in the message he brings and to follow his Way, as the way of truth and life.

Jesus can be called the Sacrament of God among us. A sacrament in general is a visible manifestation of the power of God working among us. So when we see the man Jesus, we are seeing God (though imperfectly, because what we actually see through Jesus’ humanity is not, cannot be the totality of a transcendent God). When we hear Jesus, we are hearing God. When Jesus acts, a human being like ourselves is acting and speaking, but it is also our God acting and speaking. So in reading today’s Gospel, when we see Jesus with the sinful woman, we are also seeing God.

Two kinds of sinners
We might say there are two kinds of sinners in today’s Gospel passage. First, there is the woman who was caught in the act of adultery, a very serious matter. But there is no mention of the other party—the man. It takes two people to commit adultery. One person committing adultery—unless it is purely in the mind—is like the Japanese concept of one hand clapping. Of course, in Jewish as in other societies where purity of the family line was vital, because the woman was the one who bore the child, the stigma of adultery and the birth of an illegitimate child was laid on her. Moreover, when a married woman commits adultery, it may not be certain who is the real father of the child she bears. An adulterous man, on the other hand, may produce an illegitimate child, but from this perspective, it is the problem of the woman and her family and not him or his family.

But in this story, the scribes and Pharisees are also sinners. Not in their own eyes, of course, but in the eyes of Jesus and his Gospel they are totally lacking in the compassion that God displays and which he expects his followers to have:

Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. (Luke 6:36)

The Pharisees and the scribes are proud and arrogant; they give themselves the prerogative to sit in judgment on others. They have no idea how to love or how to forgive—only how to keep the Law. They are thus far from God. They do not love the people that God loves.

But before we ourselves sit in judgment on them, we might sincerely ask how many of us would have acted differently than they did in this particular case? How would many of us react if we discovered a spouse, a son or daughter, not to mention a stranger or public figure, in an adulterous relationship?

Representing all of us
The woman in this story is not just an isolated sinner. She represents all of us. She represents every person who has sinned. She represents you and me. And the scribes and Pharisees, who were sinners too, also represent you and me. We sin in both ways: when we hurt others by indulging our desires at their expense and when we hurt others by setting ourselves up as superior and better than they. If we had been there that day, what would we have done? Would we have condemned the guilty woman too? Even during the past week, how many people have we condemned in our hearts or in our words? Are we regular readers of newspapers or watchers of TV programmes which delight in rubbishing people and destroying their lives? How many people have we ourselves passed judgement on? On the other hand, to how many have we extended a hand of love and compassion?

How Jesus treats people
Now let us look at Jesus in this scene. First of all, Jesus does not deny the woman’s sin. She has sinned, and very seriously. Adultery involves an intimate sexual liaison between two people, at least one of whom is already married. It is a serious breach of trust in the marriage relationship and a serious act of injustice to the innocent partner in the marriage. The seriousness is really in this breach of trust and the injustice to one’s partner rather than the sexual activities, which, in this case, are secondary. The story does not tell us whether the woman was married or not. What is admitted by all—by Jesus, the Pharisees and the woman herself—is that she sinned.

Pawn in a game
However, there is another element in the story which is not explicitly mentioned, but is strongly implied. The woman has been dragged before Jesus as a pawn in a game. The game is one of entrapment. The Pharisees say:

Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?

They hope to put the rabbi who eats and drinks with sinners on a collision course with the sacred traditions coming from Moses. They hope to condemn him from his own mouth. They reason that if he agrees with Moses, he belies his own teaching and behaviour with sinners; if he rejects the Law of Moses, he can be denounced as no man of God.

Jesus at first ignores their question, which reveals how far they are from understanding what he has been teaching and doing. He bends down and writes with his finger on the sandy ground. There has been much speculation about what he might have been writing, but it seems to be a way of refusing to walk into their all too obvious trap. When they persist, he says:

Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.

To their credit, not one of them took up the challenge. One by one, beginning with the most senior, they slipped quietly out of his sight. This is the first teaching of today’s Gospel: only one without sin (i.e. God) can sit in judgment on another person. To put it more colloquially: people in glass houses cannot throw stones. Yet, do we not do this all the time?

No condemnation
Now only Jesus and the woman are left. Her accusers are gone and the one person remaining is not going to accuse her. He says to her:

Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?….Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.

Unlike the Pharisees and scribes, upholders of the Law, Jesus refuses to condemn her. Rather he gives her an opportunity to repent, to convert and change her ways. Jesus came not to condemn, but to save, to rehabilitate and to give new and enduring life. Jesus always leaves a door open.

Our instinct is to punish and even destroy the wrongdoer. Every day we see the media condemning and even claiming to be ‘shocked’ by the misdemeanours of the famous and the not so famous. How do we think Jesus would deal with such people?

If God acted like the Pharisees, how many times would I myself have been condemned or destroyed? But no matter how many times I sin, no matter how seriously I sin—even if the whole of society condemns me and expresses horror and revulsion at my behaviour—God calls me to start over again, to change my ways of seeing life and other people. How often does he do this? Once or twice? No, he does this “seventy times seven times”—in other words, indefinitely!

One popular Sunday missal offers these comments on today’s Mass:

“The utter completeness of Christ’s forgiveness is almost incredible. When he says to us Neither do I condemn you, the past is dead, snuffed out like a wick, forgotten.”

That is what is meant when one says that God has such a poor memory. He only sees and knows the person actually in front of him at this moment. Says Isaiah in today’s First Reading:

Do not remember the former things
or consider the things of old.

Seeing the real person
In today’s Gospel story, Jesus saw a lonely, frightened woman, manipulated by cruel, self-righteous men for their own sinister ends. He saw the potential for change and he accepted her totally.

This was also the experience of Paul, once a zealous Pharisee. Paul knew that God had forgiven his sin, the sin of persecuting the disciples of Jesus (in the name of God and religion, it may be noted). Paul realises now that it is not a question of becoming a morally perfect person by his own efforts. For him to have a close relationship with Jesus is the most precious thing in life. All the rest is just garbage. As a Pharisee he thought he was a perfect person by keeping the Law meticulously and hating all those who did not. Now he knows he is a good person because he has become filled with the love of Jesus. Now he hates no one—he loves, he forgives and, like God, he forgets.

We will find a great deal of happiness and peace in our lives if, on the one hand, we can really grasp the attitude of God to the sinner, and if, on the other, we can make that attitude our own in our relationship with others.