Easter Sunday, April 12, 2020

Theme: This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad!

John 20:1–9

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”

Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in.

Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.

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Music Meditations

• Christ the Lord is Risen Today (sung by Mormon Tabernacle Choir) [YouTube]
• All Creatures of our God and King (arrangement by John Rutter) [YouTube]
• In Christ Alone (lyrics by Chris Tomlin) [YouTube]
• Christ is Risen (Matt Maher) [YouTube]
• All things Bright and Beautiful (John Rutter) [YouTube]

Companions for the Journey

From Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad. Jesus is risen, never to die again. After the anguish of the last few days, it is the time of unbounded joy. I ask for the grace to enter into the joy of Jesus himself, the seed that fell to the ground and died, and is now bearing abundant fruit, full of new life.

Today’s reading says of the two apostles that ‘as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.’ I too ask for the grace to grow in my understanding of this great reality: St Paul calls the Resurrection the foundation of our faith, but I have no direct experience of it except for the Risen Jesus.

The resurrection! No one saw it happen: it is too big for that. But in the resurrection of Jesus all of creation is risen, and we human beings walk ‘in newness of life’ as St Paul says. The resurrection is, in the words of pope Benedict, a cosmic event of love, shattering death. In the hidden power of the resurrection people of all faiths and none struggle to live good lives in a darkened world—we are all in the birth-pangs of becoming resurrected people. I am one of them. I ask the risen Lord that my life may be an instance of the resurrection. Gerard Manley Hopkins speaks of the comfort of the resurrection. Lord, may it be truly a comfort for me when life is hard or when death draws near to me or those I love. We shall all rise in Christ.

As we listen to the Easter Sunday Gospel, we might well wonder how Mary Magdalen and the others who went to the Tomb had forgotten what Jesus had said about being put to death and rising from the dead.

The great gifts of Easter are hope and faith. Hope: which makes us have that confidence in God, in his ultimate triumph, and in his goodness and love, which nothing can shake. Faith: the belief that Christ has triumphed over evil despite appearances and that the Resurrection is the definitive act in human history.

So, we celebrate the mystery of the Resurrection, proclaim our faith and hope, and give thanks for these gifts.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today's session:

For they did not yet understand the Scripture that He had to rise from the dead.

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today's reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• The crucifixion is an historical event; the resurrection is a faith event. Do I agree?
• In my religious experience, which is the more important event to me, Good Friday or Easter? Why? What does each convey to me about the nature of God and about Jesus?
• The resurrection descriptions are an attempt to explain the ineffable (Jesus has risen from the dead) when facts are not enough. The crucifixion was an historical event; the resurrection was a faith event. What is the difference, in my mind?
• Why should we trust the words (of the gospel story) from a culture which promoted a lot of “truths” which were no truths at all? What “truth” is the gospel story proclaiming?
• How does literature, especially poetry sometimes convey a truth that cannot be proven factually? Am I uncomfortable with this idea? If so, what “facts” explain love?
• What does Easter tell me about death?
  What does it tell me about the sustainability of goodness and beauty?
• Easter, said the preacher, is a celebration of the enduring beauty of Jesus’ life and his love which surmounts all hate. What, specifically, about Jesus’ life will I celebrate this Easter?
• Renoir said: “Pain passes, but beauty remains.” It applies to us as well; do I have an example from my own life?
• These gospel stories contain no post-resurrection appearances of Jesus to non-believers. So they were not written to convince non-believers that Jesus rose from the dead, but to reassure those that believed in him. Does this surprise me? Do I believe in an afterlife?
• Peter hung back—maybe he felt guilty. What holds me back from approaching the risen Jesus? What personal memories inhibit my belief in the love and welcome of Jesus?
• What does it mean for me that Mary did not recognize Jesus until he spoke? What would it take for me to recognize Jesus in my midst right now?
• Does faith in Jesus’ resurrection require me to examine the ways in which I do not act as if Jesus is risen?
• What does the empty tomb call me to be/do?
  Have I ever looked into the empty tomb of my own darkness? Can I find the resurrected Jesus there?
  Are there actions of my church which, in my opinion, belie the truth of the resurrection? What are they?
  What does the empty cross signify for me?
• What do I choose to believe about death and about life after death? What images of the afterlife, either from religion or from pop culture, do I reject?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

From Living Spaces, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

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 behavior undergo a constant development. We not only believe, we not only proclaim but we do what we believe and what we proclaim. What changes should I consider making in my attitude, and my behavior in order to reflect more truly on the fact of the resurrection? List three and promise yourself you will work on one this week.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Read 1 Corinthians 2:9:
“No eye has seen
Nor ear heard
Nor has it even entered into the human heart
What God has prepared
For those who love Him”
Transpose this verse to the second person, speaking to God directly about your hopes for a life with God after death. How do you imagine it to be? Write your own prayer of thanksgiving for this great love and this great promise of life with the Lord.

Poetic Reflection:

Did you ever stop to wonder what Jesus experienced between his death on Friday and his resurrection on the Sabbath after that? Here is Denise Levertov’s take on it:

“Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell”

Down through the tomb’s inward arch
He has shouldered out into Limbo
to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
the merciful dead, the prophets,
the innocents just His own age and those
unnumbered others waiting here
unaware, in an endless void He is ending
now, stooping to tug at their hands,
to pull them from their sarcophagi,
dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas,
neighbor in death, Golgotha dust
still streaked on the dried sweat of his body
no one had washed and anointed, is here,
for sequence is not known in Limbo;
the promise, given from cross to cross
at noon, arches beyond sunset and dawn.
All these He will swiftly lead
to the Paradise road: they are safe.
That done, there must take place that struggle
no human presumes to picture:
living, dying, descending to rescue the just
from shadow, were lesser travails
than this: to break
through earth and stone of the faithless world
back to the cold sepulchre, tearstained
stifling shroud; to break from them
back into breath and heartbeat, and walk
the world again, closed into days and weeks again,
wounds of His anguish open, and Spirit
streaming through every cell of flesh
so that if mortal sight could bear
to perceive it, it would be seen
His mortal flesh was lit from within, now,
and aching for home. He must return,
first, in Divine patience, and know
hunger again, and give
to humble friends the joy
of giving Him food—fish and a honeycomb.

Poetic Reflection:

We all wonder if we will see our departed loved ones again, and wonder what it will be like. Mary Oliver, deeply missing her beloved dog, Percy, imagines her reunion with him:

“The First Time Percy Came Back”

The first time Percy came back
he was not sailing on a cloud.
He was loping along the sand as though
he had come a great way.
“Percy,” I cried out, and reached to him—
those white curls—
but he was unreachable. As music
is present yet you can’t touch it.
“Yes, it’s all different,” he said.
“You’re going to be very surprised.”
But I wasn’t thinking of that. I only
wanted to hold him. “Listen,” he said,
“I miss that too.
And now you’ll be telling stories
of my coming back
and they won’t be false, and they won’t be true,
but they’ll be real.”
And then, as he used to, he said, “Let’s go!”
And we walked down the beach together.

Good Friday, April 10, 2020

Theme: Jesus finishes his mission

Suggested for meditation on Good Friday, especially during the Tre Ore, that is, from noon to 3 PM

Spend some time with the Gospel of John, maybe comparing it to the same events recorded in Matthew’s Gospel from Palm/Passion Sunday on April 5.

You may want to intersperse some music between the sections (see below).

Then take a look at two homilies from 2008 from community members, delivered at two different services.

Finally, just spend some time with Jesus…

Music Meditations

• Were You There When They Crucified My Lord? sung by Mahalia Jackson [YouTube]
• What Wondrous Love Is This? sung by Fernando Ortega [YouTube]
• Pie Jesu by Fauré, sung by Kathleen Battle [YouTube]
• Going Home by Antonín Dvořák, sung by Bryn Terfel [YouTube]

John 18:1—19:42

After he had said all this, Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron valley where there was a garden into which he went with his disciples. Judas the traitor knew the place also, since Jesus had often met his disciples there, so Judas brought the cohort to this place together with guards sent by the chief priests and the Pharisees, all with lanterns and torches and weapons. Knowing everything that was to happen to him, Jesus came forward and said, ‘Who are you looking for?’ They answered, ‘Jesus the Nazarene.’ He said, ‘I am he.’ Now Judas the traitor was standing among them. When Jesus said to them, ‘I am he,’ they moved back and fell on the ground. He asked them a second time, ‘Who are you looking for?’ They said, ‘Jesus the Nazarene.’ Jesus replied, ‘I have told you that I am he. If I am the one you are looking for, let these others go.’ This was to fulfil the words he had spoken, ‘Not one of those you gave me have I lost.’ Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus. Jesus said to Peter, ‘Put your sword back in its scabbard; am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?’ The cohort and its tribune and the Jewish guards seized Jesus and bound him.

They took him first to Annas, because Annas was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, who was high priest that year. It was Caiaphas who had counselled the Jews, ‘It is better for one man to die for the people.’ Simon Peter, with another disciple, followed Jesus. This disciple, who was known to the high priest, went with Jesus into the high priest’s palace, but Peter stayed outside the door. So the other disciple, the one known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the door-keeper and brought Peter in. The girl on duty at the door said to Peter, ‘Aren’t you another of that man’s disciples?’ He answered, ‘I am not.’ Now it was cold, and the servants and guards had lit a charcoal fire and were standing there warming themselves; so Peter stood there too, warming himself with the others. The high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching. Jesus answered, ‘I have spoken openly for all the world to hear; I have always taught in the synagogue and in the Temple where all the Jews meet together; I have said nothing in secret. Why ask me? Ask my hearers what I taught; they know what I said.’ At these words, one of the guards standing by gave Jesus a slap in the face, saying, ‘Is that the way you answer the high priest?’ Jesus replied, ‘If there is some offence in what I said, point it out; but if not, why do you strike me?’ Then Annas sent him, bound, to Caiaphas the high priest. As Simon Peter stood there warming himself, someone said to him, ‘Aren’t you another of his disciples?’ He denied it saying, ‘I am not.’ One of the high priest’s servants, a relation of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, said, ‘Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?’ Again Peter denied it; and at once a cock crowed.

They then led Jesus from the house of Caiaphas to the Praetorium. It was now morning. They did not go into the Praetorium themselves to avoid becoming defiled and unable to eat the Passover. So Pilate came outside to them and said, ‘What charge do you bring against this man?’ They replied, ’If he were not a criminal, we should not have handed him over to you.’ Pilate said, ‘Take him yourselves, and try him by your own Law.’ The Jews answered, ‘We are not allowed to put anyone to death.’ This was to fulfil the words Jesus had spoken indicating the way he was going to die. So Pilate went back into the Praetorium and called Jesus to him and asked him, ‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ Jesus replied, ‘Do you ask this of your own accord, or have others said it to you about me?’ Pilate answered, ‘Am I a Jew? It is your own people and the chief priests who have handed you over to me: what have you done?’ Jesus replied, ‘Mine is not a kingdom of this world; if my kingdom were of this world, my men would have fought to prevent my being surrendered to the Jews. As it is, my kingdom does not belong here.’ Pilate said, ‘So, then you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘It is you who say that I am a king. I was born for this, I came into the world for this, to bear witness to the truth; and all who are on the side of truth listen to my voice.’ ’Truth?’ said Pilate. ‘What is that?’ And so saying he went out again to the Jews and said, ‘I find no case against him. But according to a custom of yours I should release one prisoner at the Passover; would you like me, then, to release for you the king of the Jews?’ At this they shouted, ‘Not this man,’ they said, ‘but Barabbas.’ Barabbas was a bandit.”

Pilate then had Jesus taken away and scourged; and after this, the soldiers twisted some thorns into a crown and put it on his head and dressed him in a purple robe. They kept coming up to him and saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ and slapping him in the face. Pilate came outside again and said to them, ‘Look, I am going to bring him out to you to let you see that I find no case against him.’ Jesus then came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said, ‘Here is the man.’ When they saw him, the chief priests and the guards shouted, ‘Crucify him! Crucify him!’ Pilate said, ‘Take him yourselves and crucify him: I find no case against him.’ The Jews replied, ‘We have a Law, and according to that Law he ought to be put to death, because he has claimed to be Son of God.’ When Pilate heard them say this his fears increased. Re-entering the Praetorium, he said to Jesus, ‘Where do you come from?’ But Jesus made no answer. Pilate then said to him, ‘Are you refusing to speak to me? Surely you know I have power to release you and I have power to crucify you?’ Jesus replied, ‘You would have no power over me at all if it had not been given you from above; that is why the man who handed me over to you has the greater guilt.’ From that moment Pilate was anxious to set him free, but the Jews shouted, ‘If you set him free you are no friend of Caesar’s; anyone who makes himself king is defying Caesar.’ Hearing these words, Pilate had Jesus brought out, and seated him on the chair of judgement at a place called the Pavement, in Hebrew Gabbatha. It was the Day of Preparation, about the sixth hour. ‘Here is your king,’ said Pilate to the Jews. But they shouted, ‘Away with him, away with him, crucify him.’ Pilate said, ‘Shall I crucify your king?’ The chief priests answered, ‘We have no king except Caesar.’ So at that Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.

They then took charge of Jesus, and carrying his own cross he went out to the Place of the Skull or, as it is called in Hebrew, Golgotha, where they crucified him with two others, one on either side, Jesus being in the middle. Pilate wrote out a notice and had it fixed to the cross; it ran: ‘Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews’. This notice was read by many of the Jews, because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the writing was in Hebrew, Latin and Greek. So the Jewish chief priests said to Pilate, ‘You should not write “King of the Jews”, but that the man said, “I am King of the Jews”.’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written, I have written.’

When the soldiers had finished crucifying Jesus they took his clothing and divided it into four shares, one for each soldier. His undergarment was seamless, woven in one piece from neck to hem; so they said to one another, ‘Instead of tearing it, let’s throw dice to decide who is to have it.’ In this way the words of scripture were fulfilled: They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothes. That is what the soldiers did. Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple he said, ‘This is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his home. After this, Jesus knew that everything had now been completed and, so that the scripture should be completely fulfilled, he said: I am thirsty. A jar full of sour wine stood there; so, putting a sponge soaked in the wine on a hyssop stick, they held it up to his mouth. After Jesus had taken the wine he said, ‘It is fulfilled’; and bowing his head he gave up his spirit. It was the Day of Preparation, and to avoid the bodies’ remaining on the cross during the Sabbath—since that Sabbath was a day of special solemnity—the Jews asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken away. Consequently the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first man who had been crucified with him and then of the other. When they came to Jesus, they saw he was already dead, and so instead of breaking his legs one of the soldiers pierced his side with a lance; and immediately there came out blood and water.

This is the evidence of one who saw it—true evidence, and he knows that what he says is true—and he gives it so that you may believe as well. Because all this happened to fulfil the words of scripture: Not one bone of his will be broken; and again, in another place scripture says: They will look to the one whom they have pierced.

After this, Joseph of Arimathaea, who was a disciple of Jesus—though a secret one because he was afraid of the Jews—asked Pilate to let him remove the body of Jesus. Pilate gave permission, so they came and took it away. Nicodemus came as well—the same one who had first come to Jesus at night-time—and he brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. They took the body of Jesus and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, following the Jewish burial custom. At the place where he had been crucified there was a garden, and in this garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been buried. Since it was the Jewish Day of Preparation and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.

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Companions for the Journey

Homily for Good Friday 2008

The last words of Jesus, according to the writer of the last canonical Gospel, were the cryptic: “It is finished”.
What is finished?
I think it depends on your perspective.
Let us, in our mind’s eye, gather around the cross and observe the reactions of those intimately connected to the fateful events of that day.

For the High priests, this is the end, or so they think, to all those incendiary speeches, dangerous gatherings of people who are beginning to question the authority of the temple, and who are beginning to see the high priests as collaborators in a system which kept the peace with Rome, but did so on the backs of the poor and marginalized. It is an end to a public relations nightmare in which Rome once again looks at this corner of the world as a hotbed of discontent and sedition. The traitor is dead.

It is finished; FINALLY!

Soldiers on a hill, obeying orders from above. Nasty job to pull. But somebody has to. Wretched day. Hot. Humid. Cloudy. Storm brewing. Anybody for a quick game? Thirsty! Listen to that one. He’s thirsty! If you are the king of the Jews, get out of this one—if you can. A bad job; but it’s over now. Another day, another shekel. (1)

It is finished:

Two thieves, each with a different reaction on their last day on earth: One is desperate for life, disappointed when Jesus can’t pull off the final miracle. “I knew you were a fake!” The other, sensing something larger than life is happening here: “This man has done nothing wrong.” But for each of them, there is no coming down from that cross alive.

It is finished.

The crowd dwindles. The shouting subsides. Wagging their heads they snort and chuckle. Destroy the temple! Who did he think he was? Rebuild it in three days! He fancied himself at playing Solomon. Good riddance, I say. That was a good one.

But it’s finished now.

Somewhere in the shadows lurks a free man. Released from prison his first day out of jail. Barabbas delivered from bondage! His term of sentence?

It is finished.

Off in the distance on the palace balcony stand Pilate and his wife. A nightmare come true, but after all—I didn’t really know him. It wasn’t as though he were somebody important. What’s done is done. “What I have written I have written,” And that’s that.

It is finished. (2)

The disciples--men and women, many of whom have been expecting a radical change in the religious philosophies and the social structures at the hand of Jesus surely realize that it is finished, and not in a good way, on that fateful afternoon when Jesus dies. “I left my family, my good life as a fisherman to follow him. I thought we had every chance of success. I was going to be his right hand person in his new kingdom. He is the only one who understood everything I ever did. What now? I guess it’s back to the job of trying to make a living fishing. That’s it. We failed. It is finished.” (3)

What is finished?

When I was a child, I heard over and over again in one version or another: Jesus’ job, to die for our sins, is finished. Jesus had to die in order for humanity to be restored to God’s favor. Jesus’ death settled the debt we owed by sinning, and opened up the gates of heaven for us once more. When Jesus’ death is understood in light of salvation spirituality, his was a necessary sacrifice for all mankind. The reasoning, according to St. Anselm in 1097, goes something like this: the human race has sinned, from Adam on down, and all crime must have punishment. Therefore, God must require a punishment, a price, before God can forgive our sins or crimes. God’s anger will only be appeased by human sacrifice. This human sacrifice must be unblemished and perfect, so no one other than Jesus, the God-Man will be adequate. Jesus died for my sins. The payment has been made, the debt has been satisfied. (4) Jesus came to save us. And that job is finished.

Sorry folks, I just don’t buy it. For many of us, both in and out of the Christian communion, this notion of substitutionary atonement is more of a stumbling block than a help. For many of us, this reasoning flies in the face of our understanding of God as Abba, a loving daddy. What parent would demand the death of a son or daughter as payment for disobedience? Not a normal one.

Oh yes, Jesus came to save us, but not in the way we expected
Jesus became human to show us how to save ourselves from ourselves. He came to give us a vision of how life could be if it were ordered according to the principles of God instead of principles of humans. Jesus came to show us how to love. How to heal, and how to forgive. And this is what he did from one dusty corner of Israel to other. This is what he preached when he spoke of the laborers in the vineyard, or the Prodigal Son. This is what he did when he refused to counter violence with violence in his last hours on this earth. The legacy Jesus left is there for all of us to recall, recounted every time we pick up a gospel reading. Too often we look on Jesus’ death as a one-time solution to all that ails the earth. Too often we pray to God for an end to war, or poverty or injustice, expecting God to make it happen without any change or effort on our part. God has chosen since the beginning of time, to work in and through humans, and if the kingdom of heaven is to be attained, it must be through our own efforts, using the words and works of Jesus as a lodestar.

And when he died on that dark and dreadful day, his part in the drama we call the History of the Earth was over. It was finished. God or no God, by becoming fully human, one in solidarity with all of humanity, it was ordained that he would die—and the manner of his dying showed those who suffer: “I will suffer with you.” He had done all he could to leave behind a legacy of love and mission. Unfortunately, the world Jesus left behind is a broken, messy world, riddled with sin and selfishness, and the project of healing is an interactive one between God and us. It is our job to do our part to finish what Jesus started.

And it that sense, it is not finished.

Look around folks.
We got trouble, right here in River City.
Right here on our small planet, we are busy killing one another and have been doing so since the days of Cain and Abel. When we speak of war casualties—which in this war, numbers 4300 and counting—we rarely count the losses to our “enemy”. When we speak of deterrents, we don’t always stop to consider that our little planet has enough weapons of mass destruction stockpiled to annihilate every person on this earth. On our small planet, we are punching holes in the ozone layer, polluting the oceans with oil spills and ruining rivers and streams with industrial waste. Some animals, driven out of their habitat by encroaching civilization and industrialization, starve or are killed for profit. Currently, there are over 1000 species of birds and mammals that are facing extinction. And let us not forget that the collateral damage of war is the scorching of Mother earth itself.
IT IS NOT FINISHED!

Right here in this land of the free, last time I looked, bigotry and prejudice were alive and well. Stories of discrimination and hate crimes against Blacks, Asians, gays, women, Jews, Muslims; against “those people” who are not like us—these stories are in the newspaper and on the daily news every day. Every day!

Right here in this prosperous country, the younger you are, the more vulnerable you are. Among industrialized countries, America is the first in military technology, in military exports, in defense expenditures, in millionaires and billionaires, in health technology, but 17th in efforts to lift children out of poverty, 18th in infant mortality, last in protecting our children against gun violence. As our country has grown richer, our children have grown poorer. (5)
Every 40 seconds a child is born into poverty. Every minute a child is born without health insurance. Every three minutes a child is arrested for drug abuse. Every six minutes a child is arrested for a violent crime. Every eighteen minutes a baby dies. Every two hours a firearm kills a child or youth.
Every day in America 8189 children are reported abused or neglected. (6)
Every day.
IS SO NOT FINISHED!

Right here in our own small town, today and tomorrow people are surging or sending surrogates into the grocery stores to provision for the Easter feast as if it were the last banquet. As we exit the stores we don’t even see the people sitting outside on an upended box with crudely lettered cardboard signs saying: “Homeless. Out of Work. Please help.” As darkness closes in, small groups of desperate people arrange their meager bundles for another night in the open. The homeless shelters are full, the lines at St. Anthony’s get longer and longer. Right here in our small town, many of the elderly have to make a choice between food and medication, between food and heat. Right here.
IT IS NOT FINISHED!

And we pray to God to fix it.
“Please God, give us peace. Stop people from fighting with us. Please God, stop people from polluting the earth. Please God, end discrimination and poverty and safeguard the most vulnerable.”
I ask you, is this the best we can do to love one another as Jesus has loved us? I think we can do better.
Jesus is no longer with us, and in the words of St Theresa of Avila: “God has no body now but yours. Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on the world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the earth.”

Instead, Let us pray to God to fix us:
Jesus, Man of Peace,
Give us the wisdom to look beyond military power and brute force to see that the collateral damage of war is often the life of an innocent child, or somebody’s mother or hundreds and thousands of homeless and dislocated souls living in refugee camps.

Lord of Consolation,
I want to see with loving eyes all those lonely and hopeless
ones who have no one to talk to, who are locked in their own misery, who are too old to matter to anyone any more. Give me eyes of compassion to look at the faces behind the faces that I meet every day. Help me to see as fellow travelers those tucked into homes lighted for the evening, and in the homeless who arrange their bundles at the end of the day. Give me ears to hear the voices of the needy and the non-voices of silent desperation. Help me to have the courage and the energy to spend something of myself on their behalf Give me a heart that cares and words to heal.
Jesus, brother and friend, you left us an awesome and difficult task—It is not finished.
I am not finished.
I have barely begun.

Notes:
1. adapted from God Has A Story Too by James A. Sanders, Elizabeth Hay Bechtel Professor of Intertestamental and Biblical Studies at the School of Theology, Claremont, California, and Professor of Religion at Claremont Graduate School. He is also the author of Torah and Canon. This material was prepared for Religion Online by Paul Mobley. God Has A Story Too was published in 1979 by Fortress Press, Philadelphia
2. Ibid
3. Ibid
4. Crossan, John Dominic and Borg, Marcus: The Last Week, p.139
5. Walter Burghardt: To Be Just is to Love, p.190
6. Ibid

Exaltation of the Cross, Sept. 14, 2008

Catherine Wolff

My early school days were spent at St. Agnes Grammar School up in San Francisco. I’m old enough that seeing a movie was a major treat in those days, and the nuns who ran St. Agnes must have invested all their savings in the one movie we had in our library—a Spanish film that came out in the mid-1950’s called “The Miracle of Marcellino.”

My memory of the exact plot is a bit sketchy—Marcellino was a poor little orphan who had been taken in by the monks in a very austere monastery, and there was an episode having to do with a scorpion bite, and a miracle involving bread and wine. But I do have vivid, enduring memories of the conversations that Marcellino would have with Jesus. He was a lonely little boy who visited the chapel regularly to pray out loud in front of a crucifix that seemed to be at least 15 feet tall. After awhile Jesus, from way up on the cross, started talking back in a deep, rich, sorrowful voice. It was a great comfort to Marcellino but it was absolutely terrifying to me as a 6- or 7-year-old. I was worried that any number of crucifixes that hung all over Catholic 1950’s San Francisco would start speaking to me, but really what was most disturbing was that Jesus was somehow still hanging on the cross, now, today.

Now this was in the days just before Vatican II, when there was still considerable emphasis on the cross as ransom for sin, and on our personal and collective culpability in Jesus’ suffering and death. The story of the cross was told in terms of the sacrifice necessary for the redemption of our sins, one that we find in the Synoptic Gospels. This was a story that implied that God was deeply offended, that he required appeasement, recompense, and that since no mere human could make up for the estrangement that we humans had chosen, God had to send His own son to make amends, and to require of Him the ultimate sacrifice of death.

But there is another way to understand the cross. If we consider God’s love to be the real basis for hope, instead of the terrible ransom of Jesus’ life, we can tell another version of the story. It starts with creation itself, where God begins to reveal Himself, freely and forgivingly, as we see in today’s first reading about his care for his hungry and confused people wandering in the desert. And in this story creation is not an event that is contained in the past but is actually ongoing in history, ongoing in our hearts.

The next phase in this unfolding revelation of God’s love is the Incarnation. This is not a desperate salvage job, where God has to intervene in human history to help set it right. We already see him intervening continuously throughout the Old Testament, through the covenant which He kept so lovingly and faithfully and His People kept so badly.

The Incarnation is God breaking directly, physically, into history in human form in the person of Jesus. In fact, the great Franciscan Duns Scotus made a powerful argument that the Incarnation is God’s primary redemptive act. He said that the Incarnation was first and foremost in God’s mind from the beginning. It could not have been dependent on, or occasioned by, any action of humans, especially sin.

The language of John’s Gospel, which we hear today, does not stress Jesus’ death as ransom, sacrifice, atonement, as the Synoptic Gospels do. In John and Ephesians, in Duns Scotus and Karl Rahner, the crucifixion is part of Jesus’ glorification, not only a sacrifice but a manifestation of the lengths to which God is willing to go to bring us closer to him.

All of Jesus’ work was redemptive, all of it ennobled our human nature he took on for us—his healing, his teaching, and as we heard from Paul today, his obedience unto death, even death on a cross. Jesus was a prophet in a long tradition that believed in the power of suffering to atone for wrongdoing, and because he was so faithful to God’s will, he came to understand that he was to die, and that his death was a sacrifice for others.

Jesus resolutely accepted his fate, and his faithfulness persisted throughout his terrible suffering and into his death. But so did the Father’s outpouring of love. We know that because Jesus was raised from the dead, and we are given new life in the Kingdom that came about as a result.

And yet that Kingdom is often so difficult to realize. We still suffer. You do, I do. I think of my long walk with my brother down the road to his death from brain cancer. I think of my friend Mary who has carried her schizophrenic brother for twenty years now. I wonder where so many Katrina victims are—they never came home again. And when I see pictures of children in Darfur it seems as though much of humankind is still nailed to a cross.

How can we find hope in our suffering, in the suffering of Jesus on the cross? How can we come to comprehend the reality that the cross contains not only the suffering but also the incarnation and the exaltation of Jesus? That it contains not only failure and scandal and pain but also victory and the promise of eternal life? Jesus already triumphed, and yet you and I here today are not yet capable of living fully in the Kingdom he established.

We are more like the Hebrews wandering around in the desert, complaining about wretched food and ravaged by serpents. In the rather mysterious passage we heard earlier, Moses had to appeal to God who told him to make an image of the serpent, mount it on a pole, and to have everybody who had been bitten look at it, and as a result, actually live. God had his people confront that which terrified them, and in doing so they were healed.

In fact, Jesus recalls that very event in the gospel we heard today—He tells us that as Moses raised up the serpent for his people, the Son of Man is also lifted up so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. The Son of Man lifted up on the cross is a dreadful sight to see. It requires us to confront not only Jesus’ suffering but our own demons, and our own suffering borne in His body.

This is a powerful lesson of the cross—that we cannot turn away from suffering. We must assume our crosses as faithfully as Jesus did; we must suffer in order to be healed. In being healed we will be able to accept Jesus’ reassurance that the cross is the occasion for the great manifestation of God’s love for us, not a condemnation of the world but a promise that the world is saved.

Holy Thursday, April 9, 2020

Theme: How did Jesus show love and forgiveness? How do we?

John 13:1-15

Before the festival of the Passover, Jesus, knowing that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father, having loved those who were his in the world, loved them to the end. They were at supper, and the devil had already put it into the mind of Judas Iscariot son of Simon, to betray him. Jesus knew that the Father had put everything into his hands, and that he had come from God and was returning to God, and he got up from table, removed his outer garments and, taking a towel, wrapped it round his waist; he then poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel he was wearing.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’ Jesus answered, ‘At the moment you do not know what I am doing, but later you will understand.’ ’Never!’ said Peter. ‘You shall never wash my feet.’ Jesus replied, ‘If I do not wash you, you can have no share with me.’ Simon Peter said, ’Well then, Lord, not only my feet, but my hands and my head as well!’ Jesus said, ‘No one who has had a bath needs washing, such a person is clean all over. You too are clean, though not all of you are.’ He knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said, ‘though not all of you are’.

When he had washed their feet and put on his outer garments again he went back to the table. ‘Do you understand’, he said, ‘what I have done to you? You call me Master and Lord, and rightly; so I am. If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you must wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you.

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Companions for the Journey

(source unknown)

Jesus is saying this: “you want to know what we’re doing at this last supper? By my taking bread and wine, this cup, and sharing it among you, by my washing of the feet, I want you to understand what the eucharist would mean. The eucharist would be forever a living symbol that I am in your midst urging you to do that service, When I take this bread and say, ’Look, this is my body, and it’s broken for you. This is the cup of my blood shed for you.’ And so the Christian community should do that as well.”

So this is the holiest night of the year, as it were, the time when Christians harken back to almost 2000 years ago; into a room which was less than half the size of most churches, with apostles gathered like ourselves, and the twelve represented by these participants tonight. And we have met in order to remember what eucharist means.

Jesus, in our midst, urges us “Take your body and give it for others, and break it for others, in love. Take the cup of your blood and pour it and empty it, and hold it out and help restore others so that fractured humankind may be whole again. Whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you do it, truly, in memory of me.”

My friends, let us try to put ourselves back into that room. Let’s pretend that we’re there and Jesus has just washed our feet, and we’re ashamed, but now we have the message. And during the rest of this service we promise anew to Jesus to be his living community and his presence, and resolve that all shall know we are Christians by our love, one for the other.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session:

‘At the moment you do not know what I am doing, but later you will understand.’

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Love is not a feeling; it is a decision. Jesus chose to love those who had not always been as he would have liked, and who would fail him in the last days of his life. Whom do I choose to love in spite of how I feel?
• What does “to the end” mean to you? Is there anyone that you love “to the end”?
• How do I “show my love” to those I really love?
• How hard is it to do demeaning, servant-like things for another person? What makes it harder? What makes it easier?
• “You are to do exactly as I have done for you”. What has Jesus done for me that I must replicate?
• What in my life needs to be cleansed?
• Why did Peter react the way he did? Has another person’s ultra-kind, ultra self-sacrificing, or ultra humble behavior ever bothered you? How did you react?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking questions:

Two reflections on humility:

Spiritual writer Paula Huston said “Truly humble people are grounded inreality. They neither preen under illusions of greatness nor suffer agonies of self-hatred.” Where do I fit on this spectrum?

Rick Warren wrote: “Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” What, for you, is true humility? What is false humility?

Poetic Reflection in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Imagine that you are there in that upper room, that you are Judas. What are you thinking and feeling as you see Jesus kneeling before you, knowing what you area about to do? Then imagine that you are Jesus, knowing what you know about Judas. How do you feel?

Jesus washes Judas’ feet.
That moment, when you knelt before him,
took off his sandals, readied the water,
did you look up?  Search his eyes?
Find in them some love, some trace
of all that had passed between you?
As you washed his feet, holding them in your hand,
watching the cool water soak away the dirt,
feeling bones through hard skin,
you knew he would leave the lit room,
and slip out into the dark night.
And yet, with these small daily things –
with washing, with breaking and sharing bread,
you reached out your hand, touched, fed.
Look, the kingdom is like this:
as small as a mustard seed, as yeast,
a box of treasure hidden away beneath the dirt.
See how such things become charged,
mighty, when so full of love. This is the way.
In that moment, when silence ebbed between you,
and you wrapped a towel around your waist;
when you knew, and he knew, what would be,
you knelt before him, even so, and took off
his sandals, and gently washed his feet.
by Andreas Kevington

Poetic Reflection:

Read this poem, then write your own note to Jesus about being made whole and clean by him:

“The Touch of the Towel”

Jesus, you kneel before me
You remove my shoes and I am exposed
My feet are grimy
full of calluses and cracks
pungent with sweat and toe jam
I’m embarrassed by them
I pull back but you reassure
You’re not offended
I feel welcome in your hands
vulnerable, yet safe
The cleansing begins
I see your reflection in the ripples
I see me, too
Your water brings truth and life
Who I am and who I can be
I am whole and home in the touch the towel
You look at my neighbor and hand it to me
poem © 2011 Lisa Ann Moss Degrenia

Palm Sunday, April 5, 2020

Theme: reflections and meditations for Holy Week / the gift of Christ’s last days

The Passion of Jesus, According to Matthew — Matthew 26:14—27:66

The Gospel is presented with divisions so that if groups are meeting to meditate on the readings, several readers can participate and take turns. In addition, there are four pieces of music as interludes between every other section.

(Reader 1)

Then one of the Twelve, the man called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, ‘What are you prepared to give me if I hand him over to you?’ They paid him thirty silver pieces, and from then onwards he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. Now on the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus to say, ‘Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?’ He said, ‘Go to a certain man in the city and say to him, “The Master says: My time is near. It is at your house that I am keeping Passover with my disciples.” ‘ The disciples did what Jesus told them and prepared the Passover. When evening came he was at table with the Twelve. And while they were eating he said, ‘In truth I tell you, one of you is about to betray me.’ They were greatly distressed and started asking him in turn, ‘Not me, Lord, surely?’ He answered, ‘Someone who has dipped his hand into the dish with me will betray me. The Son of man is going to his fate, as the scriptures say he will, but alas for that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! Better for that man if he had never been born!’ Judas, who was to betray him, asked in his turn, ‘Not me, Rabbi, surely?’ Jesus answered, ‘It is you who say it.’ Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had said the blessing he broke it and gave it to the disciples. ‘Take it and eat,’ he said, ‘this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he handed it to them saying, ‘Drink from this, all of you, for this is my blood, the blood of the covenant, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. From now on, I tell you, I shall never again drink wine until the day I drink the new wine with you in the kingdom of my Father.’

(Reader 2)

After the psalms had been sung they left for the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus said to them, ‘You will all fall away from me tonight, for the scripture says: I shall strike the shepherd and the sheep of the flock will be scattered, but after my resurrection I shall go ahead of you to Galilee.’ At this, Peter said to him, ‘Even if all fall away from you, I will never fall away.’ Jesus answered him, ‘In truth I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will have disowned me three times.’ Peter said to him, ‘Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.’ And all the disciples said the same. Then Jesus came with them to a plot of land called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Stay here while I go over there to pray.’ He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee with him. And he began to feel sadness and anguish. Then he said to them, ‘My soul is sorrowful to the point of death. Wait here and stay awake with me.’ And going on a little further he fell on his face and prayed. ‘My Father,’ he said, ‘if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Nevertheless, let it be as you, not I, would have it.’ He came back to the disciples and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, ‘So you had not the strength to stay awake with me for one hour? Stay awake, and pray not to be put to the test. The spirit is willing enough, but human nature is weak.’ Again, a second time, he went away and prayed: ‘My Father,’ he said, ‘if this cup cannot pass by, but I must drink it, your will be done!’ And he came back again and found them sleeping, their eyes were so heavy. Leaving them there, he went away again and prayed for the third time, repeating the same words. Then he came back to the disciples and said to them, ‘You can sleep on now and have your rest. Look, the hour has come when the Son of man is to be betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up! Let us go! Look, my betrayer is not far away.’ And suddenly while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, appeared, and with him a large number of men armed with swords and clubs, sent by the chief priests and elders of the people. Now the traitor had arranged a sign with them saying, ‘The one I kiss, he is the man. Arrest him.’ So he went up to Jesus at once and said, ‘Greetings, Rabbi,’ and kissed him. Jesus said to him, ‘My friend, do what you are here for.’ Then they came forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. And suddenly, one of the followers of Jesus grasped his sword and drew it; he struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his ear. Jesus then said, ‘Put your sword back, for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Or do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, who would promptly send more than twelve legions of angels to my defence? But then, how would the scriptures be fulfilled that say this is the way it must be?’ It was at this time that Jesus said to the crowds, ‘Am I a bandit, that you had to set out to capture me with swords and clubs? I sat teaching in the Temple day after day and you never laid a hand on me.’ Now all this happened to fulfil the prophecies in scripture.

Music Interlude

“Your Will” by Tony Eiras [YouTube]

(Reader 3)

Then all the disciples deserted him and ran away. The men who had arrested Jesus led him off to the house of Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were assembled. Peter followed him at a distance right to the high priest’s palace, and he went in and sat down with the attendants to see what the end would be. The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for evidence against Jesus, however false, on which they might have him executed. But they could not find any, though several lying witnesses came forward. Eventually two came forward and made a statement, ‘This man said, “I have power to destroy the Temple of God and in three days build it up.” ‘ The high priest then rose and said to him, ‘Have you no answer to that? What is this evidence these men are bringing against you?’ But Jesus was silent. And the high priest said to him, ‘I put you on oath by the living God to tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God.’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is you who say it. But, I tell you that from this time onward you will see the Son of man seated at the right hand of the Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.’ Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, ‘He has blasphemed. What need of witnesses have we now? There! You have just heard the blasphemy. What is your opinion?’ They answered, ‘He deserves to die.’ Then they spat in his face and hit him with their fists; others said as they struck him, ‘Prophesy to us, Christ! Who hit you then?’ Meanwhile Peter was sitting outside in the courtyard, and a servant-girl came up to him saying, ‘You, too, were with Jesus the Galilean.’ But he denied it in front of them all. ‘I do not know what you are talking about,’ he said. When he went out to the gateway another servant-girl saw him and said to the people there, ‘This man was with Jesus the Nazarene.’ And again, with an oath, he denied it, ‘I do not know the man.’ A little later the bystanders came up and said to Peter, ‘You are certainly one of them too! Why, your accent gives you away.’ Then he started cursing and swearing, ‘I do not know the man.’ And at once the cock crowed, and Peter remembered what Jesus had said, ‘Before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly.

(Reader 4)

When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people met in council to bring about the death of Jesus. They had him bound and led him away to hand him over to Pilate, the governor. When he found that Jesus had been condemned, then Judas, his betrayer, was filled with remorse and took the thirty silver pieces back to the chief priests and elders saying, ‘I have sinned. I have betrayed innocent blood.’ They replied, ‘What is that to us? That is your concern.’ And flinging down the silver pieces in the sanctuary he made off, and went and hanged himself. The chief priests picked up the silver pieces and said, ‘It is against the Law to put this into the treasury; it is blood-money.’ So they discussed the matter and with it bought the potter’s field as a graveyard for foreigners, and this is why the field is still called the Field of Blood. The word spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was then fulfilled: And they took the thirty silver pieces, the sum at which the precious One was priced by the children of Israel, and they gave them for the potter’s field, just as the Lord directed me.

Jesus, then, was brought before the governor, and the governor put to him this question, ‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ Jesus replied, ‘It is you who say it.’ But when he was accused by the chief priests and the elders he refused to answer at all. Pilate then said to him, ‘Do you not hear how many charges they have made against you?’ But to the governor’s amazement, he offered not a word in answer to any of the charges. At festival time it was the governor’s practice to release a prisoner for the people, anyone they chose. Now there was then a notorious prisoner whose name was Barabbas. So when the crowd gathered, Pilate said to them, ‘Which do you want me to release for you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?’ For Pilate knew it was out of jealousy that they had handed him over. Now as he was seated in the chair of judgment, his wife sent him a message, ‘Have nothing to do with that upright man; I have been extremely upset today by a dream that I had about him.’ The chief priests and the elders, however, had persuaded the crowd to demand the release of Barabbas and the execution of Jesus. So when the governor spoke and asked them, ‘Which of the two do you want me to release for you?’ they said, ‘Barabbas.’ Pilate said to them, ‘But in that case, what am I to do with Jesus who is called Christ?’ They all said, ‘Let him be crucified!’ He asked, ‘But what harm has he done?’ But they shouted all the louder, ‘Let him be crucified!’ Then Pilate saw that he was making no impression, that in fact a riot was imminent. So he took some water, washed his hands in front of the crowd and said, ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood. It is your concern.’ And the people, every one of them, shouted back, ‘Let his blood be on us and on our children!’ Then he released Barabbas for them.

Music Interlude

Pie Jesu by Fauré, sung by Kathleen Battle [YouTube]

(Reader 1)

After having Jesus scourged he handed him over to be crucified. Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus with them into the Praetorium and collected the whole cohort round him. And they stripped him and put a scarlet cloak round him, and having twisted some thorns into a crown they put this on his head and placed a reed in his right hand. To make fun of him they knelt to him saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ And they spat on him and took the reed and struck him on the head with it. And when they had finished making fun of him, they took off the cloak and dressed him in his own clothes and led him away to crucifixion. On their way out, they came across a man from Cyrene, called Simon, and enlisted him to carry his cross. When they had reached a place called Golgotha, that is, the place of the skull, they gave him wine to drink mixed with gall, which he tasted but refused to drink. When they had finished crucifying him they shared out his clothing by casting lots, and then sat down and stayed there keeping guard over him. Above his head was placed the charge against him; it read: ‘This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.’

(Reader 2)

Then two bandits were crucified with him, one on the right and one on the left. The passers-by jeered at him; they shook their heads and said, ‘So you would destroy the Temple and in three days rebuild it! Then save yourself if you are God’s son and come down from the cross!’ The chief priests with the scribes and elders mocked him in the same way, with the words, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the king of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He has put his trust in God; now let God rescue him if he wants him. For he did say, “I am God’s son.” ‘ Even the bandits who were crucified with him taunted him in the same way.

Music Interlude

Jesus Remember Me from Taizé [YouTube]

(Reader 3)

From the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour, Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eli, eli, lama sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ When some of those who stood there heard this, they said, ‘The man is calling on Elijah,’ and one of them quickly ran to get a sponge which he filled with vinegar and, putting it on a reed, gave it him to drink. But the rest of them said, ‘Wait! And see if Elijah will come to save him.’ But Jesus, again crying out in a loud voice, yielded up his spirit. And suddenly, the veil of the Sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom, the earth quaked, the rocks were split, the tombs opened and the bodies of many holy people rose from the dead, and these, after his resurrection, came out of the tombs, entered the holy city and appeared to a number of people. The centurion, together with the others guarding Jesus, had seen the earthquake and all that was taking place, and they were terrified and said, ‘In truth this man was son of God.’ And many women were there, watching from a distance, the same women who had followed Jesus from Galilee and looked after him. Among them were Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of Zebedee’s sons.

(Reader 4)

When it was evening, there came a rich man of Arimathaea, called Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate ordered it to be handed over. So Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean shroud and put it in his own new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a large stone across the entrance of the tomb and went away. Now Mary of Magdala and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the sepulchre. Next day, that is, when Preparation Day was over, the chief priests and the Pharisees went in a body to Pilate and said to him, ‘Your Excellency, we recall that this impostor said, while he was still alive, “After three days I shall rise again.” Therefore give the order to have the sepulchre kept secure until the third day, for fear his disciples come and steal him away and tell the people, “He has risen from the dead.” This last piece of fraud would be worse than what went before.’ Pilate said to them, ‘You may have your guard; go and make all as secure as you know how.’ So they went and made the sepulchre secure, putting seals on the stone and mounting a guard.

Music Interlude

Going Home by Antonín Dvořák, sung by Bryn Terfel [YouTube]

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Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today's session:

“Let this cup pass from me.”
“Can you not watch one hour with me?”
“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

Commentary

This is a homily delivered by Deacon John Kerrigan on Good Friday 2018:

What would be a crucifixion for me? To feel that I’m absolutely alone, that nobody cared for or wanted me, that it really didn’t matter to anyone whether I lived or died.

About five years ago, I received an email from a former work acquaintance. Her name was Alice and she lived on the east coast. Alice’s note had a frantic tone to it: her son, Chris, enrolled in college in the Bay Area, was failing out of school. Furthermore, he had refused to meet with his academic advisor and stopped attending his therapy sessions. Alice asked if I would meet with Chris; I readily agreed. I sent her son a brief text introducing myself. His reply was hardly encouraging. “What do you want from me?” he wrote. After a few more emails back and forth, he agreed to meet.

In my first face-to-face encounter with Chris, I sensed that he was exceptionally paranoid and obscenely angry. Think for a moment about J.D. Salinger’s Holden Caulfield in “Catcher in the Rye” and, then, multiply that character’s cynicism by ten and you’ll start to get a picture of Chris. As we spoke, I quickly learned about his former friends, former girlfriend, and former stellar grades. I also learned about his current struggle with the prescription drug Adderall. Over time, I realized that Chris was experiencing the crucifixion of feeling entirely alone. In his mind, no one cared about him; he also had convinced himself that he could care less about anyone else.

During the course of subsequent meetings, I simply listened to Chris and allowed him to vent. Ultimately, he decided to withdraw from school and move back east, primarily for economic reasons.

I saw Chris for the last time a few days before his departure and helped him move some boxes from his apartment to a place where they could be shipped back east. As I was about to leave, I handed Chris a hat from the Stanford golf course (just like this one), and told him that it might come in handy as he coped with the summer heat back home. As we said our goodbyes, Chris casually handed the hat back to me. I was confused and said, “Chris, this is a gift; it’s yours to keep.” He seemed genuinely surprised and said, “I thought you were joking. You mean I can keep it?” Whereupon, he put it on, and with a grin, said “thank you”. It was the first time that I had heard him speak those two words.

Now, why do I share the story with you? For two reasons, actually. First, because it reminds you and me that Calvary is not just a place nor is it a moment in time. Calvary comes to life whenever and wherever the body of Christ is scourged, stripped, broken, pierced. There is the Calvary of war and bigotry, the Calvary of persecution and poverty. There is the Calvary that dwells in every human heart, whenever we turn toward sin and away from Christ. There is the Calvary of young Chris being bound by the chains of despair and self-loathing. The miracle of Good Friday, though, is the realization that by God’s grace, Calvary isn’t the end of the story.

Second, I share the story about Chris so that we can spend a moment reflecting on the meaning of a “gift.” Gifts are something that are given freely. They can, however, be received or ignored by the person for whom they are intended. Chris’s outer shell was pretty hard; he had a difficulty receiving and accepting a gift, though he did eventually embrace my gesture of friendship.

It takes a certain humility to accept a gift and, more so, to accept that it is given freely by someone who thinks enough of us to give us that gift. This Good Friday we need to ask ourselves, “Are we willing to accept the gift of God’s unconditional love in our lives? Are you and I willing to stop making excuses for who we are and accept the fact that the person that God’s loves is the person that God made, you and me, just the way that we are?”

For a moment, let’s also ask ourselves, “Why do we call this Friday “Good?” Perhaps, because God used it to remind you and me that our humanity was something precious. After all, Jesus took on our flesh, he was born in the same way that you and I were born. I have no doubt that God could have worked out our salvation in many different ways. Instead, God decided to save us by taking on our flesh and pitching a tent among us. God became one of us because God wanted to experience what we experience and in the same way that we experience it. Recall for a moment, Paul’s letter to the Hebrews: “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.”

If you and I want to know the meaning of the word God, we need only look at the life, death and destiny of Jesus of Nazareth. Likewise, if you or I want to know what it means to be a human being, we need look no farther than Jesus of Nazareth. The fullness of humanity revealing the fullness of divinity is found in the gift of Jesus of Nazareth.

Which brings us back to God’s “gift” this somber day. In all of his ministry, through to the Last Supper and passion and death on a cross, Jesus is saying to us, ‘If you want to hold on to your life, if you try to preserve it, if you grasp it and will not let it go, you will lose it. But, if you give your life away, if you hand it over, if you are willing to die, you will discover that you cannot run out of life.’ Hold onto life, you lose it; give it away and life becomes everlasting.

Good Friday reminds you and me that we will lose what we hold onto and can never run out of what we freely give away.

Let’s apply this principle to our education and work lives as well. You and I may believe that our schooling and careers are gifts given to us to be grasped, prizes that we have achieved and strive to hold on to so as to advance in our professions or to make more money and provide for our family. And, actually, these are fine outcomes. However, if we think that these outcomes are all that our education and work lives are about, then perhaps we are unworthy of both. For the real reason for our education and life of work is to give us a greater ability to serve others.

We never truly grasp the full fruits of our education and work until we give them away to others. The measure of our success is the degree to which people who never came to Stanford or set foot in Silicon Valley experience lives that are richer, fuller, more genuinely human because you did go to Stanford or you do work in Silicon Valley.

On Good Friday, Jesus gave everything, until there was nothing left to give – “Father, I hand myself over to you. It is finished.” To be able to give away everything is what all of us are in training to do, from the moment of our baptism. And in doing so, becoming a little more human. And in becoming a little more human, we become genuinely holy.

A few weeks ago, I spoke with Chris and his mother. Though the road’s been bumpy, he’s navigating life much better. But, to one degree or another, isn’t life a bumpy road for you and me also. Alice did tell me, though, that the hat that I gave him as a token of our brief friendship is now threadbare from wear; that fact pleased me greatly.

Thanks to the gift of the Incarnation, you, I and God have one thing in common—we’re all human. Therefore, if we wish to be like God, let’s set our minds and hearts on being more human. And the way to be more human is to help others to be more human. To give yourself away.

To discover that fact is to discover everything that is important in the Christian tradition. That is the gift that has been given to us this day. Give it away!

Reflection Questions

• What draws me to Jesus?
• What is the cause of Jesus’ “sorrow” in the garden? What are my Gethsemanies? Have I ever found it hard to accept God’s will in my life?
• Everybody has a cross to carry in this life, whether it is illness, loneliness, anxiety, personal relationships or professional ones. Can you name one of your “crosses”? How can you be more like Jesus as you carry your cross(es)?
• Describe a time in your life when you felt a lack of God’s presence in your personal need. How did you handle it?
• Describe the way Jesus handled his interrogation and torture. What qualities of his that he displayed in these instances do you particularly admire?
• Have you ever been anxious or worried about something and found that your usual support system was somehow lacking? How did you feel?
• What images or incidents in this narrative particularly touch you? How do they relate to your own life and your own understanding of Jesus?

• Adapted from Rev. William Bausch in Once upon a Gospel:

  The fact is, the day Jesus entered Jerusalem from the east on a donkey, and Pilate enters from the west on a warhorse, was the day you and I were confronted with a choice: We could choose to enter with Pilate, who represented force, greed and exploitation, or we could choose to enter with Jesus, who represented the kingdom of God which condemns those who exploit others, who use the power of their office or their money to serve their own selfish and sometime dishonest ends, who treat the poor and marginalized as expendable. The results of that confrontation are clear.

  The question for each of us: which entrance shall I take, whose procession do I follow?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignation Style/Memory:

The Way of the Cross
As Jesus appears before Pilate, I remember a time when I experienced being misunderstood, condemned:
As Jesus receives his cross, I recall a time when I received a cross in my life:
As Jesus falls the first time, I remember when I experienced my first failure, my own limits
As Mary encourages Jesus, I remember someone who encouraged me to follow God's call; I remember how he or she looked at me:
As Simon helps Jesus carry his cross, I consider who has been there to lift a burden from shoulders, from my heart:
As Veronica wipes the face of Jesus, I remember the Veronicas in my life—those who stood by me, comforted me, even at the risk of their own rejection:
As Jesus falls a second time, I recall the times when I have experienced the helplessness of failing, knowing I would fail, again and again:
As the women reach out to comfort Jesus, I remember the faces of those whom I have reached out to comfort, even in my own pain:
As Jesus falls a third time, I recall a time when I felt as if I was totally defeated and could not go on:
As Jesus is stripped of his clothing, I remember the experience of feeling so emotionally naked, so publicly demeaned, so vulnerable before others:
As Jesus is nailed to the cross, I consider the things that bound me, kept me “fastened” to my own sorrow, failures or disappointments:
As I imagine Jesus dying on the cross, I try to recall a time when I loved so unconditionally, so completely, that I gave my all:
As I imagine Mary holding the dead body of her son, I pause and remember those who have held me up in life, nurtured me, and grieved with me:
As Jesus’ body is laid in the tomb, I consider what in my life keeps me entombed, where I most experience death:
adapted from Surrender—A Guide for Prayer, by Jacqueline Syrup Bergin and Sister Marie Schwann

Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Read the whole of Psalms 22 and 31 while imagining that Jesus is the speaker. What links do you find between those texts and the passion narratives in the Gospels? What impact does this have?
Daniel J. Harrington, S.J.

Poetic Reflections—A Selection of 5 Poems

Read Mary Oliver’s poem “Gethsemane”. What is the perspective here?

“Gethsemane”

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.

The cricket has such splendid fringe on his feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.

Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did, maybe
the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t move.
Maybe the lake far away, where once he walked
as on a blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.

Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be part of the story.

Read W.S. Di Piero’s poem “Gethsemane” (from The Restorers). How does it feel to be the betrayer? Have I ever disappointed or betrayed anyone? How did I feel?

“Gethsemane”

He had nerve enough to follow,
dogging his heels, for what? To learn
a new vocabulary, a prayer,
down there in yellow iris that smelled
like carcass? He came back smiling.
The dog had its day, rolling in meat.
This meat was news: The Word of God
wants what we want, to be unchosen.

He must have made up his mind then
What if he said, I don't see Him here,
we’ll check later? Instead he gagged
on words, like a mouthful of water
brought from the garden, that blood squirms
from the blossom loads and cracked boughs,
and in the stagnant lake of the heart
the sprouting trunk splits, groans,
spilling wine, the spongy dirt
inhaling any blood that falls,
and I'm falling into the tree
and dogs at lakeside bark at clouds.

Like that. As if his own speech could
infuriate time while he waited
for an act to come upon him
(as joy sometimes happens). The soldiers
(were they his joy?) got impatient.
So finally his bloodless lips
screamed More life! More salt!
before he gave away his kiss.

Read a poetic reflection on Peter’s betrayal by Rev. Ed Ingebretzen, S.J.:

“In The Book”

In the book
is told
the story of Peter—
he who denied
Jesus—
Peter whose extravagant love
bloomed like Sunday breakfast.

Also is told how he cried,
a glory credited to him
as to none other.
Peter cried to know his denial; how
perplexed he was by love, how undone
like a shoelace.
torn by love of him
called Jesus
who loved incomprehensibly,
till it seemed
even the rocks around him sang blessings.

But Jesus told Peter
what his heart had long known:
you are weak and shall be harvested
like a field of wheat
ripe in October.
Around you the weeds and flowers cluster
eager to gather in your strength.
Said Jesus further:
Peter, be cut, sifted
measured out.
Let love be your source and their ground,
In you let them find root.

Read a novel take on one of the main actors in Palm Sunday’s events written by Mary Oliver:

“The Poet Thinks of the Donkey”

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

Read this meditation on death by St. Catherine of Siena. Could it apply to Jesus?:

“Live Without Thought of Dying”

We work so hard to fly
and no matter what heights we reach
our wings get folded near a candle,
at the end,

for nothing can enter God but Himself.
Our souls are some glorious substance of the divine
that no sentry wants to stop.

Live without thought of dying,
for dying is not a truth.

We have swayed on the sky's limb together,
many years there the same leaves grow.

But then they get that look in their eyes
and bid farewell to what they distained or cherished.

This life He gave the shell, the daily struggles we know,
sit quiet for a minute, dear, feel the wind,
let Light touch you.

Live without thought of dying,
for dying is not a
truth

Musical Reflection for Good Friday

Play “O Magnum Mysterium” by Ola Gjeilo [olagjeilo.com], and imagine the Angels singing to Jesus on the cross. What would your song be?

OR

Play “Adagio for Strings” by Samuel Barber [YouTube], reflecting on how Jesus and his friends must have felt about their great mission and its apparent failure on that last day…

5th Sunday in Lent, March 29, 2020

Themes: Hope and Consolation, a chance for a new life in Christ

The Raising of Lazarus—John 11:1–45

Now a man was ill, Lazarus from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who had anointed the Lord with perfumed oil and dried his feet with her hair; it was her brother Lazarus who was ill. So the sisters sent word to him, saying, “Master, the one you love is ill.” When Jesus heard this he said, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that he was ill, he remained for two days in the place where he was.

Then after this he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just trying to stone you, and you want to go back there?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours in a day? If one walks during the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. But if one walks at night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.” He said this, and then told them, “Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.” So the disciples said to him, “Master, if he is asleep, he will be saved.” But Jesus was talking about his death, while they thought that he meant ordinary sleep. So then Jesus said to them clearly, “Lazarus has died. And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe. Let us go to him.” So Thomas, called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go to die with him.”

When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, only about two miles* away. And many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. [But] even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this? She said to him, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, “The teacher is here and is asking for you. As soon as she heard this, she rose quickly and went to him For Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still where Martha had met him. So when the Jews who were with her in the house comforting her saw Mary get up quickly and go out, they followed her, presuming that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Sir, come and see.”

And Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him.”

But some of them said, “Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have done something so that this man would not have died?” So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay across it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the dead man’s sister, said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me; but because of the crowd here I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” And when he had said this, he cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. So Jesus said to them, “Untie him and let him go.” Now many of the Jews who had come to Mary and seen what he had done began to believe in him.

---

Music Meditations

Possible songs to use for meditation/prayer:

• Christ in Me Arise--Trevor Thomson
• On Eagle’s Wings--Jules Antenor
• I Will Arise and Go to Jesus--Rutt Sallinan
• You Raise Me Up--Josh Groban

Companions for the Journey

This is a short biography or quote from one of the Christian or non-Christian witnesses of our tradition—a person who or commentary which embodies the theme of the gospel we are studying.

from “America”, the national Jesuit weekly magazine:

The Bible’s greatest and most powerful image of hope is that of resurrection. Resurrection hope is the theme of the Scripture readings for the fifth Sunday of Lent. The reading from John 11 tells how Jesus restored his friend Lazarus to life. It is the last and greatest of the seven “signs” or miracles that the Johannine Jesus performs during his public ministry. It is more than a resuscitation (since Lazarus has been dead for three days) and less than a resurrection (since we assume that Lazarus will die again). It is a sign pointing to the resurrection of Jesus. What Jesus does for Lazarus, his heavenly Father will do for Jesus—and more. Jesus will not die again. Indeed, in his resurrection Jesus will conquer death. Thus Jesus’ restoration of Lazarus to life is a preview of Jesus’ own resurrection from the dead. The raising of Lazarus is first and foremost a sign about Jesus. The narrative emphasizes Jesus’ personal affection for Lazarus and his sisters. He loves these people and shows compassion toward them. It also emphasizes Jesus’ great power in his ability to restore Lazarus to life again. And it helps to explain what led to Jesus’ arrest and execution, since this last public action by Jesus in John’s Gospel arouses the jealousy and fears of his opponents and sets in motion the plot against him that leads to his execution. The last great sign points us toward the Johannine passion narrative. It signifies that the death Jesus undergoes on Good Friday is not ultimately a defeat, since Jesus has power over death. The purpose of the raising of Lazarus was that God’s glory might be made manifest in this event. It is a sign that Jesus’ passion, death, resurrection and exaltation constitute one glorious event in the history of our salvation. Jesus’ being lifted up on the cross is part of his being lifted up to eternal glory with his heavenly Father.

The Lazarus story has import for us. In the middle of the account, Jesus declares, “I am the resurrection and the life.” He goes on to affirm that “whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Most of us are accustomed to regard “eternal life” as something that begins only when we die. But Jesus asserts that for those who believe in him, eternal life has already begun. Who we are now is what we shall be forever. For us, as for Jesus, physical death is not a defeat. Rather, it is another step on the way to fullness of life with God. For us eternal life has already begun, and the best is yet to come. The great corollary of belief in Jesus’ resurrection is the possibility of our resurrection. Because Jesus has been raised from the dead, we too can hope to share in his resurrection. If the Holy Spirit dwells in us (as the beginning of our eternal life), that same Spirit can give us a full share in the resurrected life of Jesus…Christian spirituality is based on Jesus’ death and resurrection; it is guided by the Holy Spirit dwelling within us and that we must respond to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. We can do so by prayer, the sacraments, good deeds, compassion for those in need, meeting the challenges of everyday life and cultivating the great Christian virtues of faith, hope and love.

by Daniel J Harrington, S.J.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session:

“Lazarus, come out!”
“Take away the stone!”

Reflection Questions

• Which of the characters in the story do you most identify with? Why?
• What are some of the “stones” that keep us entombed in a sort of death? (Fear, shame, envy, anger and sadness are examples)
• Walter Burghardt, in his homily on the fifth Sunday of Lent many years ago, said: “Eternal life does not begin with death. It begins now, because through Jesus, God and I are already one.” How do we live out or fail to live out that understanding?
• Do we believe that those who have died are linked to us through the communion of saints? Do we have an examples to relate?
• Have you ever done something for a friend that caused you severe discomfort or pain? Was it worth it?
• If I were to die tomorrow, what have I left undone, unsaid? For whom have I withheld forgiveness? From whom have I not sought forgiveness?
• What parts of my life need healing, mercy, resurrection?
• Where is my interior necrosis? Where is the dead part of my soul?
• Do I reflect the joy of Christ, or am I like a mourner at a funeral?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Read John 11:1-45 again. Imagine the various scenes in this story. Try to picture Mary and Martha coping with the desperate illness of their brother. Imagine the scene on the far side of the Jordan where Jesus is hiding out to avoid arrest. What is Jesus actually doing when he receives the message about Lazarus? Try to put yourself in Mary and Martha’s shoes as they see Jesus after Lazarus has died. Would you react the same way? How does Jesus react? What does that tell you about his feelings for Lazarus and for Mary and Martha? Have you ever felt that God was a little too slow in reacting to a crisis in your life? Reflect on the final outcome and see if you can detect the presence of God in good times and in bad times. Imagine a dialogue with the risen Lazarus. What do you think he would say to you?

A Meditation in the the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

A homily of Pope Francis on April 6, 2014 (from A Year of Mercy with Pope Francis):

Today I invite you to think for a moment, in silence here: where is my interior necrosis? Where is the dead part of my soul? Where is my tomb? Think, for a short moment…What part of the heart can be corrupted because of my attachment to sin, one sin or another? And to remove the stone, to take away the stone of shame and allow the Lord to say to us as he said to Lazarus: “Come out!” that all our sould might be healed, might be raised by the love of Jesus. He is capable of forgiving us. We all need it! All of us. We are all sinners, but we must be careful not to become corrupt. Sinners we may be, but He forgives us. Reflection:

Consider Pope Francis’s questions above. What parts of your life need healing, mercy, resurrection? Trust in the power of Jesus to transform you.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Is it hard to know what to say to someone who is in the throes of grief? Can one simply acknowledge that we do not know how to help, but that we are concerned about them and are available if needed? Do you know of anyone who is grieving the loss of a loved one, or a job, or health? What one gesture of sympathy and solidarity can you make this week to comfort this person?

Literary reflection:

Sit with this poem for a while and see of it says anything to you about hope. Birago Diop, A Muslim poet from Senegal, sums up our convictions about those who have gone before us:

Those who are dead have never gone away,
They are in the shadows darkening around,
They are in the shadows fading into day,
The dead are not under the ground.
They are in the trees that quiver,
They are in the woods that weep,
They are in the waters of the rivers,
They are in the waters that sleep.
They are in the crowds, they are in the homestead.
The dead are never dead

Literary Reflection:

Take a look at a poem by Mary Oliver that looks at death from the point of view of each of us. Do you agree with her or do you have another sort of wish?

“When Death Comes”

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world