The Magnificent Defeat - “Jesus didn’t die to save me from God. Jesus died to save me from myself.”

Some people think the Crucifixion only took place on Calvary. They better wise up! Taking Joey Doyle's life to stop him from testifying is a crucifixion. And dropping a sling on Kayo Dugan because he was ready to spill his guts tomorrow, that's a crucifixion. And every time the Mob puts the pressure on a good man, tries to stop him from doing his duty as a citizen, it's a crucifixion. And anybody who sits around and lets it happen, keeps silent about something he knows that happened, shares the guilt of it just as much as the Roman soldier who pierced the flesh of our Lord to see if he was dead. – Father Barry (Quote from the movie On the Waterfront - 1954)

Scripture Text: (HEB 4:14-16; 5:7-9)

Brothers and sisters:

Since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens,

Jesus, the Son of God,

let us hold fast to our confession.

For we do not have a high priest

who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,

but one who has similarly been tested in every way,

yet without sin.

So let us confidently approach the throne of grace

to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.

In the days when Christ was in the flesh,

he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears

to the one who was able to save him from death,

and he was heard because of his reverence.

Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered;

and when he was made perfect,

he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.

How many times in our lives have we felt lost in darkness, overwhelmed by sorrow, experiencing a pain or loss that tries our faith? As we think back on this difficult time, even in our blackest hour, what was the resolution? It is likely that, despite the hopelessness we may have experienced, we eventually found healing, peace, or understanding. Christ’s crucifixion, although cast in darkness, has the promise of light, hope and life, as we will see on Easter Sunday. As we carry the suffering of Christ in our hearts today, let us be reminded to live out the promise of hope in our daily trials and share the light of Christ with others in our actions, service, and words.

In Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken,” a man faces a fork in the road and has to choose which way to go. Reflecting on his choice, he says,

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Life has many different roads. The road of discipleship is not well traveled today. But those who do follow it find treasures beyond compare: salvation and eternal life. They discover God’s unconditional love. And they are moved to love other people as Jesus loves them. This road makes “all the difference” in our lives—simply because Jesus said, “It is finished.”

“The more humble and obedient to God a man is, the more wise and at peace he will be in all that he does.”

Humility is the foundation of all the other virtues hence, in the soul in which this virtue does not exist there cannot be any other virtue except in mere appearance. - Saint Augustine

Gospel Text: (JN 13:1-15)
Before the feast of Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come
to pass from this world to the Father.
He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end.
The devil had already induced Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, to hand him over.
So, during supper,
fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power
and that he had come from God and was returning to God,
he rose from supper and took off his outer garments.
He took a towel and tied it around his waist.
Then he poured water into a basin
and began to wash the disciples’ feet
and dry them with the towel around his waist.
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him,
“Master, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus answered and said to him,
“What I am doing, you do not understand now,
but you will understand later.”
Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered him,
“Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.”
Simon Peter said to him,
“Master, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well.”
Jesus said to him,
“Whoever has bathed has no need except to have his feet washed,
for he is clean all over;
so you are clean, but not all.”
For he knew who would betray him;
for this reason, he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

So when he had washed their feet
and put his garments back on and reclined at table again,
he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet,
you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow,
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

Science has shown that if you walk barefoot in public places, you risk picking up all sorts of nasty microorganisms: E. coli, tetanus, and many different types of fungi. These germs seem to consider the human foot a very welcoming environment, and they turn our feet into petri dishes!

Can you imagine how dirty people’s feet were during the time of Jesus? The apostles’ feet were probably tougher, more calloused, and just plain uglier than anything most of us have seen. No wonder it was the role of a slave to wash the feet of the wealthy—no one else would want to!

The significance of this act of humility seen today at Mass and in Holy Scripture is so profound that some have called it the gospel in miniature. Others have likened it to the Eucharist. God so loved the world that he sent his only Son to save us. And he still loves us so much that he bends down at every Mass to teach us, feed us, and refresh us. Both in the Incarnation and at Mass, he sends his only Son as a humble servant—all so that we can be filled with his life and transformed into his image!

Foot washing is a symbolic action. It expresses what living a Eucharistic Life, a life of self emptying love in imitation of the Lord who emptied Himself for us, really looks like.

It is referred to as the Mandatum, the Command, for good reason. A Christian who lives the love of Charity (Caritas), the Love of Jesus Christ, is to make Jesus Christ real in a real world. In so doing, the Incarnation continues.

To bear the name Christian is to walk in this kind of love in the midst of a broken and wounded world. This command now passes to each one of us.

“The key to faith is what we are willing to sacrifice to obtain it.”

“The difference between an admirer and a follower still remains, no matter where you are. The admirer never makes any true sacrifices. He always plays it safe. Though in words, phrases, songs, he is inexhaustible about how highly he prizes Christ, he renounces nothing, gives up nothing, will not reconstruct his life, will not be what he admires, and will not let his life express what it is he supposedly admires.” ― Søren Kierkegaard, Provocations: Spiritual Writings of Kierkegaard

Scripture text: (PS 69:8-10, 21-22, 31 AND 33-34)
R. (14c) Lord, in your great love, answer me.
For your sake I bear insult,
and shame covers my face.
I have become an outcast to my brothers,
a stranger to my mother’s sons,
because zeal for your house consumes me,
and the insults of those who blaspheme you fall upon me.
R. Lord, in your great love, answer me.
Insult has broken my heart, and I am weak,
I looked for sympathy, but there was none;
for consolers, not one could I find.
Rather they put gall in my food,
and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.
R. Lord, in your great love, answer me.
I will praise the name of God in song,
and I will glorify him with thanksgiving:
“See, you lowly ones, and be glad;
you who seek God, may your hearts revive!
For the LORD hears the poor,
and his own who are in bonds he spurns not.”
R. Lord, in your great love, answer me

“As I have done, so you also must do.” (Jn 13:15) Jesus stoops down from the height of his divinity and serves his own. He asks us to stoop down as well. He elevates us into divine communion, so that we too can descend and reach out to others. God comes to serve us, so we must serve the least of society. We must give ourselves. We need to give something of our time, our energy, our love, to those who count for nothing, those whose God-given dignity is still veiled, whose dignity is still hidden to the eyes of the world. We are to go and serve those in chronic poverty. We are to reach out to battered women, to the handicapped, to the dying, to the unborn, those who are nobodies in the eyes of the world. So often, our society treats them as servants or slaves, as nothing. So we must make personal sacrifices, and live for others.

Our share of the Eucharist will be quite fruitless unless we can live the Eucharist each day.

But Jesus doesn’t just ask for a couple of good works here and there. He orders his whole life towards the service of his disciples. So must we.

“Change Yourself” doesn't imply to be like everyone else

“First of all, although men have a common destiny, each individual also has to work out his own personal salvation for himself in fear and trembling. We can help one another to find the meaning of life no doubt. But in the last analysis, the individual person is responsible for living his own life and for "finding himself." If he persists in shifting his responsibility to somebody else, he fails to find out the meaning of his own existence. You cannot tell me who I am and I cannot tell you who you are. If you do not know your own identity, who is going to identify you?” - Thomas Merton, O.C.S.O (American Catholic writer and Trappist monk)

Scripture Text: (IS 49:1-6)
Hear me, O islands,
listen, O distant peoples.
The LORD called me from birth,
from my mother’s womb he gave me my name.
He made of me a sharp-edged sword
and concealed me in the shadow of his arm.
He made me a polished arrow,
in his quiver he hid me.
You are my servant, he said to me,
Israel, through whom I show my glory.

Though I thought I had toiled in vain,
and for nothing, uselessly, spent my strength,
Yet my reward is with the LORD,
my recompense is with my God.
For now the LORD has spoken
who formed me as his servant from the womb,
That Jacob may be brought back to him
and Israel gathered to him;
And I am made glorious in the sight of the LORD,
and my God is now my strength!
It is too little, he says, for you to be my servant,
to raise up the tribes of Jacob,
and restore the survivors of Israel;
I will make you a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.

“The Lord called me from birth; from my mother’s womb he gave me my name.” (Isaiah 49:1)

Call to mind your identity, your true identity. Often in our society when we are asked who we are or to describe ourselves we respond with, “I am a student, a teacher, mechanic, businessman, mother, father, etc.” While these descriptions are true, who are we really? When you strip away everything of this world, who are we? We are beloved sons and daughters of God. Why don’t we answer this way? Why do we continue to define ourselves by the world, in its emptiness and nothingness it has to offer, when our true identity, which comes from our Heavenly Father, offers us everything, EVERYTHING! Jesus Christ suffered and died upon the Cross that we may have eternal life with Him. No it’s not a sports car, promotion, 4.0 GPA, fancy house, the newest iPhone…this is ETERNAL LIFE! He is offering us a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, to know God.

Yet so often we continue to choose what the world offers us, turning our back to God. This can be greatly discouraging; I know it is for me. There is hope that we are not alone in this when we look at Peter in today’s Gospel (John 13:21-33, 36-38). When Peter was with Jesus, in an encounter with him, his faith was strong and he says to Jesus “I will lay down my life for you,” (John 13:37) yet shortly afterwards Peter would deny Jesus three times. How often when our faith is strong, when we have a real encounter with our Lord, or when we are in consolation and things are going well we make bold prayers as Peter did, promising so much to our Heavenly Father. But when suffering comes, when our Lord seems far away, when times of desolation linger we too turn our backs and deny our Lord as Peter did.

Why is it that we forget so easily all of the blessings that we have received from our Lord, the moments of great grace and love? I think it comes back to the beginning, knowing our true identity. When we become discouraged, we forget that we are beloved sons and daughters of God; when we become afraid, we forget the love and care that our Lord has for us; when it seems like everything is falling apart, we forget that God has a plan for us and our goodness. But the end is not when we forget. Our Lord is always inviting us to come back to him, no matter how far we strayed from him, to receive his mercy and love, to be renewed in our identity as his beloved sons and daughters.

“It is not enough to be busy, so are the ants. The question is, 'What are we busy about?”

“When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives. Our love of the Lord will govern the claims for our affection, the demands on our time, the interests we pursue, and the order of our priorities.”

Gospel Text: (JN 12:1-11)
Six days before Passover Jesus came to Bethany,
where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.
They gave a dinner for him there, and Martha served,
while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with him.
Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil
made from genuine aromatic nard
and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair;
the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.
Then Judas the Iscariot, one of his disciples,
and the one who would betray him, said,
“Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days’ wages
and given to the poor?”
He said this not because he cared about the poor
but because he was a thief and held the money bag
and used to steal the contributions.
So Jesus said, “Leave her alone.
Let her keep this for the day of my burial.
You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

The large crowd of the Jews found out that he was there and came,
not only because of him, but also to see Lazarus,
whom he had raised from the dead.
And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too,
because many of the Jews were turning away
and believing in Jesus because of him.

The story of Mary anointing the feet of Jesus is one that has always intrigued me. Mary “gets it” – she understands the value of Christ in her life right there and then. We have other readings where Mary sits at his feet and allows herself to be completely present to Jesus and soaks in his words and the gift of him. She does not allow herself to be distracted or try to multi-task around him. Here as she pours her precious perfume on his feet, she conveys that she recognizes the value of Christ and that honoring him is more important than riches or anything else.

Whenever I read this passage, I have to reflect upon whether I am keeping “first things, first.” Do I allow the busyness of the world to overshadow what is most valuable to me and my salvation? Of course, there are commitments to be filled and work to be done (especially if we wish to be paid!). I am constantly challenged to keep my priorities in mind and to balance my life. It is so easy for me to be all consumed with the demands of work and my family responsibilities. I struggle at times and need to consciously remind myself of what is most important in the grand scheme of life.

“Remember a week before he was crucified like a criminal, he rode into the city a king."

Christians must lean on the Cross of Christ just as travelers lean on a staff when they begin a long journey. They must have the Passion of Christ deeply embedded in their minds and hearts, because only from it can they derive peace, grace, and truth. - St. Anthony of Padua

Scripture Text: (MT 21:1-11)

When Jesus and the disciples drew near Jerusalem

and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives,

Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them,

“Go into the village opposite you,

and immediately you will find an ass tethered,

and a colt with her.

Untie them and bring them here to me.

And if anyone should say anything to you, reply,

‘The master has need of them.’

Then he will send them at once.”

This happened so that what had been spoken through the prophet

might be fulfilled:

Say to daughter Zion,

“Behold, your king comes to you,

meek and riding on an ass,

and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had ordered them.

They brought the ass and the colt and laid their cloaks over them,

and he sat upon them.

The very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road,

while others cut branches from the trees

and strewed them on the road.

The crowds preceding him and those following

kept crying out and saying:

“Hosanna to the Son of David;

blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord;

hosanna in the highest.”

And when he entered Jerusalem

the whole city was shaken and asked, “Who is this?”

And the crowds replied,

“This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Many years ago I was standing in a food line at a baseball game.  Near me was a young man in his early teens who had spina bifida.  He could only stand supported by braces that he held with both hands.  A woman seeking to express great kindness said to him, “My what a brave young man you are.”  To this he replied, “Lady, everybody has a cross to bear.  You can just see mine.”

At a certain point when the line began to thin out I reminded my young friend of his response.  A big smile came over his face as he said to me:  “It’s true you know. Everybody has a cross.”

Christ holds up for us “the cross” with this understanding: If we embrace it with love, as he did, the cross can be redemptive.  Into every life comes a cross.  There’s no way to avoid the cross that each of us must carry.  Some are simply “more visible” than others.  Yet no one escapes the ups and downs of the human condition.  Sometimes the cross comes in the form of aging, physical suffering, disease, disability.  Other times it presents itself as a betrayal of a friendship, an abuse of a relationship.  Our cross might simply be the struggle to live out the wondrous yet demanding promises to love, honor and support one another “all the days of our lives.”  Whatever the cross, Jesus tells us we must take it up.  We must carry it.  We must pick up our cross and walk with him.

Jesus embraced the cross, and in His great love he transformed it into an instrument of God’s grace and instrument of God’s power, an instrument of the Spirit.  So too can we.  We are able to unite our personal cross to the cross of Christ and, in our love, transform it and make it into something just as Jesus did.  Make it into something redemptive, transforming, life-giving.

“Individuality or Unity? I say there's room for both.”

“And therefore the idea of serving mankind, of the brotherhood and oneness of people, is fading more and more in the world, and indeed the idea now even meets with mockery, for how can one drop one's habits, where will this slave go now that he is so accustomed to satisfying the innumerable needs he himself has invented? He is isolated, and what does he care about the whole? They have succeeded in amassing more and more things, but have less and less joy.” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Gospel Text: (JN 11:45-56)

Many of the Jews who had come to Mary

and seen what Jesus had done began to believe in him.

But some of them went to the Pharisees

and told them what Jesus had done.

So the chief priests and the Pharisees

convened the Sanhedrin and said,

“What are we going to do?

This man is performing many signs.

If we leave him alone, all will believe in him,

and the Romans will come

and take away both our land and our nation.”

But one of them, Caiaphas,

who was high priest that year, said to them,

“You know nothing,

nor do you consider that it is better for you

that one man should die instead of the people,

so that the whole nation may not perish.”

He did not say this on his own,

but since he was high priest for that year,

he prophesied that Jesus was going to die for the nation,

and not only for the nation,

but also to gather into one the dispersed children of God.

So from that day on they planned to kill him.

So Jesus no longer walked about in public among the Jews,

but he left for the region near the desert,

to a town called Ephraim,

and there he remained with his disciples.

Now the Passover of the Jews was near,

and many went up from the country to Jerusalem

before Passover to purify themselves.

They looked for Jesus and said to one another

as they were in the temple area, “What do you think?

That he will not come to the feast?”

The Sanhedrin did not stand united with Christ for fear of losing worldly powers and possessions. These Old and New Testament readings speak to me about the need for “oneness” with Christ.  In our daily life it is easy to “divide” ourselves from one another, and ultimately from Christ.  In An Invitation to Dance Like No One is Watching,  Kelly Flanagan writes about egos as devices to create personal walls.  He admits, “One of my favorite ego-cannons is to pretend everyone on the outside of my wall is wrong.  It makes me feel right and righteous, but really just keeps me safe inside of my ideas.” He identifies various cannons we use to protect--that is, divide--ourselves from others. These cannons are gossip, criticism, attachment to possessions, and power. At some point, we need to realize these cannons reinforce our isolation and are transient and meaningless. 

The Scripture reading and Flanagan’s insights shout out the need to seek and strengthen my relationship with Christ.  The statement from Ezekiel (Ezekiel 37:21-28), the first reading today at Mass,  calls for the unity the Sanhedrin did not want-- unity with Christ. I ask myself, “Do I behave like the Sanhedrin? Am I truly united with Christ?” 

If I am one with Christ, then I am one with my brothers and sisters, regardless of their race, religion, sexual orientation, or ideology. The world is full of pain caused by division. I know that Lent is a season to strengthen our relationships, through our Oneness with Christ.  I pray that we can rid ourselves of the impulses that lead to division and instead, ease the pain of others and in doing so, find greater joy in ourselves.