Weekly Reflections

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The Ascension of the Lord, May 29, 2022

We are now the witnesses, and Jesus promised us that we would not be left alone

Gospel: John 24:46–53
You are witnesses to these things

The Ascension has very little to do with the absence of Christ, and everything to do with his magnification. Pope Benedict tells us that Jesus was “not transported to another cosmic location.” Rather, his Ascension galvanized his disciples; they became witnesses who resembled thunderbolts in terms of the energy they brought to the task of proclaiming the Good News.

We are now the witnesses, and Jesus promised us that we would not be left alone

John 24:46–53

He told them, “This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.

You are witnesses of these things.

I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”

When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them.

While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven.

Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy.

And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.

Music Meditations

  • Nada Te Turbe--Mostar Taize
  • Jesus Christ, Yesterday Today and Forever--Mayor McNugget
  • Yahweh I Know You Are Near
  • Be Not Afraid

Opening Prayer

Jesus, open my heart and free me from my selfish preoccupations so that I can hear the message of love and support you gave the disciples, and are giving now, to me. Let me not be distracted from this promise by my everyday cares and worries. Remind me that you are always there and that I can always call on you. Then, give me the energy and the courage to spread the hope of your promise in a world so broken by selfishness and violence.

Companions for the Journey

Commentary on the current gospel from John Kerrigan’s homily for the Solemnity of the Ascension of Our Lord 2012:

Did you ever wonder why the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus—albeit three notable events in his life—get so much attention and yet his ascension hardly ever seems to merit honorable mention? After all, this great ecumenical feast of the Church, which occurs 40 days after Easter, appears equally important even if it is far less well understood. It’s important because the Ascension has very little to do with the absence of Christ, and everything to do with his magnification. Pope Benedict tells us that Jesus was “not transported to another cosmic location.” Rather, his Ascension galvanized his disciples; they became witnesses who resembled thunderbolts in terms of the energy they brought to the task of proclaiming the Good News.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Allow me to take a step back, and ask you to picture with me three short vignettes. The first took place 16 years ago this week. It was Friday, May 24th, 1996, three days after our oldest daughter, Lauren, was born and time to leave the hospital and go home. After months of preparation, days spent devouring numerous books and articles—including the classic “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” putting time aside to baby proof our home, and the wonderful support of hospital staff and family, it was now time for Elizabeth and me to take full responsibility for this beautiful little girl. Among the many emotions I experienced that Friday morning was a genuine fear—one might even say panic—that I was utterly unprepared for this challenging task. Elizabeth and I looked at each other and I said, “It’s our baby, baby!” I suspect many parents have had a similar experience.

Vignette two: a few weeks ago, a Stanford student told me about the end of her first day as a freshman here at The Farm. Here are her words: “That first night, as I lay in bed, I thought to myself, I may never live at home again. I am on my own.” Can any of you identify with this thrilling, and at the same time, intimidating feeling?

This third vignette occurs at Stanford every year just about mid-June when thousands of black robed students in mortarboard hats flow past this Memorial Church, with beaming relatives trailing behind them decked out with cameras and bouquets. It’s graduation time, a time of great celebration. The students will be told many wonderful things, about leadership, about staying true to their ideals…. And implicit in all the speeches is this sobering point: now, perhaps for the first time in your life, you are going to be held responsible. After graduation parties have wound down, and academic gowns have been turned in, it may come as a shock for many graduates that from here on out the responsibility of making decisions and putting their lives together, getting jobs, paying off loans, even folding their clothes, rests no longer on parents or teachers, advisors or counselors, but on themselves. Life: “it’s your baby, baby!”

The joys and apprehensions felt by new parents, or a first-year or graduating student, are, I suspect, similar to the emotions experienced by the disciples described in today’s reading from Scripture. For a period of time after Christ’s death and resurrection, the apostles and disciples would encounter the risen Christ in unexpected places—in the upper room, or at the seashore of Lake Tiberius, or on the Road to Emmaus. But gradually these encounters grew less frequent, until finally they stopped altogether and the apostles realized that they were on their own. They couldn’t run to Jesus and ask “What do we do now?” Or “what’s next on the agenda? Where do we go next week to attend the sick or preach the Gospel?” No, now they had to figure that out for themselves.

This is the meaning of the feast of the Ascension: it marks that point in the mystery of Easter when the apostles realized that Jesus was now in the full embrace of God’s love, or as the readings put it, had been taken up into heaven. Neither they nor we are going to see him again until the end of time. This message is also clear: don’t stand there staring at the sky; the ball is in your court now! And whether they know it or not, the disciples are more than ready for the ball to be in their court. For over the past 40 days after Easter, we’ve been hearing about the transformation of Jesus’s followers from tentative, afraid and anxious men and women into persons who resemble thunderbolts in their zeal to proclaim and witness to the Good News.

Well, the ball is in our court too. The Feast of the Ascension reminds us each year that the apprenticeship is over; we’re the witnesses now. Whether you and I feel strong and firm in our faith, or like so many, have as many questions and doubts as answers—you and I are the ones chosen to make God’s love known, not throughout Judea and Samaria, but here in Palo Alto and the Bay Area, or in the daily asceticism of our academic disciplines and professional lives.

And when we do so with the vigor of these early disciples, these thunderbolts, we like Jesus before us will find ourselves more and more in the full embrace of God’s love.

Read another reflection on The Real Meaning of the Ascension >>

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

You are witnesses to these things

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

  • Have I ever felt bereft and abandoned by someone’s leaving my life?
    Did my life change?
    Did I turn outward to others and the world or did I withdraw into myself?
    Which response is more like that of the Apostles?
  • Do I see Jesus’ ascension as his liberation of the smallness of a world which could no longer contain him?
    Can I look at the death of someone I know or love in the same way and rejoice for them?
    Why is this hard?
  • How well do you keep your promises?
    Has anyone ever broken a promise to you?
    Has Jesus?
  • What does it mean to me to “witness” something?
    Is it a passive observation or a more active testimony?
    Which am I more comfortable with?
  • I think of something I have experienced (religious or not) that I want to witness to.
  • In what ways am I a witness (an active sign) of God’s presence in the world?
    In what ways is my witness to Christ a declaration of faith, and in what ways is my witness a more active testimony?
    How can I carry the reality of Christ to those around me?
  • Where does prayer fit in?
  • In what ways is my Church a witness to the risen Christ?
    In what ways could the Church do a better job?
    Do I believe that I am Church; that witnessing to Christ is my responsibility as well that of the ordained or other leaders?
  • “God has not called you to be a successful witness; God has called you to be a faithful one.” (adapted from Mother Teresa of Calcutta). Has a personal feeling of inexperience, lack of theological training or gift for ministry held me back?
    What can I do to change this?
  • Jesus’ leaving could bring fear and doubt to the disciples, as expressed by another gospel account of this event. How is Joy an antidote to doubt and fear and a sign of trust in the promises of Jesus?
  • A theme of this week’s reading is JOY. How do I radiate the joy of the Gospel?
  • In the Lord’s Prayer, we wish that God’s will be done here as well as in heaven—we wish for a meeting of heaven and earth.
    How does this come about, and what is my role in the transformation of the world?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Adapted from Praying with Julian of Norwich by Gloria Durka, pp 64-66:

Julian of Norwich: Just so [Our Lord] said in the last words with perfect fidelity, alluding to us all: You will not be overcome, And all his teaching and this true strengthening apply generally to all my fellow Christians, as is said before and so it’s the will of God.

And these words: you will not be overcome, were said very insistently and strongly, for certainty and strength against every tribulation which may come. He did not say: You will not be troubled, you will not be belabored, you will not be disquieted; but he said: you will not be overcome. (Showings, p. 315)

I reflect on the stresses and anxieties of my life and ask myself which are truly important. What can worrying do to alleviate the situation? I pray this litany in such times:

In all my anxious moments, O God.
I know I shall not be overcome.
In all my fears, O God,
I know I shall not be overcome.
In all my attempts at peacemaking, O God
I know I shall not be overcome.
In a world where there is so much suffering,
You will overcome, O God.
In a world of dying hopes,
You will overcome, O God.

(Continue the litany with your own worries, and concerns, ending each with your statement of trust in God.)

Spend a few minutes of silent communion with the God who loves you so very much and cares for you absolutely, followed by the Lord’s Prayer, in which we say “Your will be done”.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Mini-Examen

I spend some time at the end of the day, reflecting on my thoughts, emotions and actions as I consider my role as a disciple and how I have lived that discipleship this day. The Ascension, after all, is the passing of the torch on to the disciples, a commissioning, as it were. “This commission is four-fold: Hear Jesus’ word, accept Jesus’ word, follow Jesus’ word, spread Jesus’ word.” (from “Sacred Space”) In my everyday life, how do I hear Jesus’ word? What of Jesus words have I accepted? Which have I found hard to accept? In what ways have I actually followed Jesus? In what ways can I do better? Which of my words, behaviors and actions actually spread God’s word? Which do not? Which of my loving actions toward another make the presence of Jesus real to them? Then: I thank Jesus for the wisdom and the perseverance he has given me so far. I make a mental list of some areas in which I can do better, and ask for Jesus’ help in doing so. I rest in the peace that is Christ.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Read the following spectacular apocalyptic scene by the prophet Daniel (7:13-14) and the adapted commentary from the Irish Jesuits:

I saw one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven. And he came to the Ancient One and was presented before him. To him was given dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.

If we were to think very schematically, we might say we have two styles of Christian living here: let’s call them Resurrection-Christianity and Kingdom-Christianity. (I am sketching here ‘ideal types’ for the sake of reflection and these should not be taken as applying to any individual or group in particular, still less as criteria for some kind of orthodoxy.) Resurrection-Christianity would focus, obviously, on the Resurrection, on the fact that Christ has overcome death and won eternal life for those who believe in Him. Kingdom-Christianity is more attentive to the arrival of the Kingdom of God, in other words a state of affairs abroad in the world, such that a new source of power and of ultimate authority is enabling and challenging human beings to allow themselves to be transformed, to receive ‘eternal life.’

What, for me, are the implications of a focused and prolonged imaginative effort to contemplate the world under the aspect of the Kingdom of Christ?

How do I discern in depth the difference that this truth makes: i.e. that it calls me to become a servant of Christ’s mission? Specifically, to what am I called as guardian of The Kingdom here on earth? How am I living out this mission?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Imagine that you are one of the disciples, returning from that scene on the mountain where Jesus disappeared forever. What do you remember about his final words, and how you felt to see him leave? What questions are in your mind at this point—such issues as “Is it really over?”, or “Who will lead us now?”, or “Am I willing to commit to this group to complete what Jesus started?”, or “Is it time for me to go back home, to my former life?” What joy do I feel as I move forward with our mission? What gives me that joy? What do I say to my friends? What do I tell our followers? How do those in the temple receive our message?

In my own 21st-century life, all I have is the story of Jesus that those before me have told. Do I believe it? If so, how do I live out my call to carry on the work of Jesus and the early disciples? Compose a prayer, asking Jesus to give you the tools you need to spread the joy of the gospel, and to give you the energy you need to change the world, to make a difference.

Poetic Reflection

How does this poem comfort us with an understanding that a) there is life after death, and b) that Jesus is with us still?

“Ascension”

And if I go,
while you’re still here…
Know that I live on,
vibrating to a different measure
—behind a thin veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me,
so you must have faith.
I wait for the time when we can soar together again,
—both aware of each other.
Until then, live your life to its fullest.
And when you need me,
Just whisper my name in your heart,
…I will be there.

—Colleen Hitchcock

Poetic Reflection:

This poem by Mary Oliver examines what our role is now that Jesus is no longer among us. Do you see yourself in this description of someone who carries a deeply joyful message of God's goodness and love?

“Messenger”

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

Closing Prayer

Let me not be afraid of joy, O Lord, and help me to live that joy every moment. Help me to move beyond fear to hope. Hope in your love, hope in your presence among us, hope in our world. Help me spread joy and hope.

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The Real Meaning of the Ascension

The first reading and the Gospel today seem to be in contradiction. Although both are written by Luke, the Gospel says that Jesus’ ascension was on Easter Sunday and the Acts of the Apostles says it was 40 days after the resurrection.

From “Living Space”, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

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

The first reading and the Gospel today seem to be in contradiction. Although both are written by Luke, the Gospel says that Jesus’ ascension was on Easter Sunday and the Acts of the Apostles says it was 40 days after the resurrection. The Gospel also seems to say that the resurrection and the ascension are one thing while the Acts seems to say they are two separate events. In fact, the ascension is part of the resurrection. Resurrection emphazises that Jesus has entered a new life and not just that he recovered his previous life. The ascension emphasizes that the risen Jesus is together with the Father, that he shares the place and dignity of the Father.

Real meaning of Ascension

The real meaning of the Ascension is in the Second Reading, a passage from the magnificent Letter to the Hebrews. The author makes a clear distinction between the role of Jesus and that of the Jewish High Priest. Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands; he entered the dwelling place of God himself. Nor, unlike the High Priest, did or does Jesus enter the sanctuary again and again, as the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies every year. Nor did he, again unlike the High Priest, offer blood that was not his own, the blood of goats and bulls. Jesus entered God’s presence by the spilling of his own blood on the cross. “Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many (that is, of all); and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.”

Washed totally clean

How are we to share in all of this? It is again put very well in the second part of the Second Reading: “Since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assistance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.”

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

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

Continuing the work of Jesus

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

This experience will be their baptism when they will become filled with the very Spirit of Jesus. But before Jesus leaves them, his disciples ask him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” Even at this late moment, they still do not understand the meaning of Jesus’ life and work. They still do not understand what kind of Messiah he is.

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

An eternal and universal kingdom:

a kingdom of truth and life,

a kingdom of holiness and grace,

a kingdom of justice, love, and peace.

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

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

 Lower your eyes

As Jesus disappears from their sight, the disciples continue to gaze upwards into the sky. It is then that two men wearing white clothes stand beside them and say: “Men of Galilee, what are you doing looking at the sky? This same Jesus who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.” Did they take these words to mean that they, in their lifetime, would see him return? Time would show that that was not the meaning of the messengers’ words. The nameless messengers in white are understood to be angels, direct representatives of God and indicating the importance of what is happening. They were also present at the resurrection.

A new lesson

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

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

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

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

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Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 22, 2022

Jesus brings peace; trust Him and preserve His legacy

Gospel: John 14:23–29
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.

We need a Spirit that will renew our conviction that our Savior is the Prince of Peace, so that we can bring his peace into our families, schools and workplaces. We also need the Spirit’s vision to appreciate the peacemaker and non-violent folks in our midst whose voices and actions are often ridiculed as being naive or ignored because their ways seem “impractical in our modern world.”

Jesus brings peace; trust Him and preserve His legacy

John 14:23–29

Jesus said to his disciples: “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; yet the word you hear is not mine but that of the Father who sent me.

“I have told you this while I am with you. The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. You heard me tell you, ‘I am going away and I will come back to you.’ If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father; for the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you this before it happens, so that when it happens you may believe.”

Music Meditations

  • Be Not Afraid—John Michael Talbot
  • Make me a Channel of your Peace--Susan Boyle
  • A Gaelic Blessing (Deep Peace) John Rutter--performed a cappella by Julie Gaulke
  • Hold me in Life—OCP Session Choir

Opening Prayer

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

—St. Francis of Assisi

Companions for the Journey

It is hard to leave a place where you have been for a period of your life, especially when you have formed close ties. Someone said to me recently, “I hate goodbyes. I find them very difficult.” She said it in a way that suggested this was unique to her and not what almost everyone feels. Who doesn’t “hate goodbyes?” Unless a person is glad to get out of a destructive relationship, or a very difficult situation, I don’t know anyone who finds farewells easy. Most of us look forward to them with sadness and dread. Even people I have known who are moving to a promising future---marriage, a better job, a new home---still feel pain about packing up and leaving. They know they are leaving a known world behind for an uncertain future. Anyone who has invested themselves in friends and place knows the poignancy of saying “farewell.” When the time comes for parting we try to soften the pain of the moment. “I’ll visit when I can.” “I’ll call you often.” “We’ll spend vacation time together.” “You’ll have to visit the first chance you get.” Though we do intend to do just what we say, we often have a fear that time and distance will make it hard to maintain the close ties with family and friends we have known. We will do our best to adapt to new circumstances and relationships and in doing that we may have to let go of at least some of what once was. It’s dreadful! One positive note, though: those we have loved in our past make it possible for us to leave and give us the courage to set down roots again.

In today’s gospel Jesus and his disciples are at table. It is the Last Supper and we are in the midst of the Last Discourse (chapters 13-17). From what Jesus has been telling them the disciples can’t miss the solemnity, indeed the heaviness, of the moment. He is going away and they will no longer have him with them in the ways they have become accustomed . He says he is going “to prepare a place for you” (14:3). Just before today’s passage Jesus reassures them, “I will not leave you orphans; I will come back to you.” When we say our farewells we try to assure the ones we are leaving that we will stay in touch. And we do our best to do just that. We don’t want to lose those we love. Jesus is expressing the same kind of sentiment; but he will keep his promise to “stay in touch” in ways the disciples cannot imagine at this point. “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.” Jesus doesn’t want us to have to rely just on his disciples’ recollections of him---who he was for them and what he taught them. He knows that being the mere humans they and we are, these memories will fade and weaken over time, especially when life tests our faith and hard times threaten to break our ties with him.

Jesus is saying a very unique goodbye. He is leaving his beloved band of followers, but promises to be with them in the future in a new way. He has to go, he tells them but, “...I will come back to you.” Jesus isn’t just saying, “Cheer up, things won’t be so bad.” Actually things are going to get quite bad for him and them. But he is assuring them that the coming of the Holy Spirit will keep their relationship vibrant because the Spirit will be the bond that holds them together in love with him and his Father.

When will Jesus return? Isn’t that the question long-suffering Christians have asked through the ages? Who knows how and when he will. But in his farewell to his disciples he assures them that he will return and he so he does, because God sends them the gift of the Holy Spirit. This Spirit, Advocate and Comforter brings Christ’s presence to us, helps us understand who he is, what he is doing among us and what he expects of us. Jesus promises that God will send the Spirit and what Jesus was to them, the Spirit will be to the Church. Jesus taught his disciples much; the Spirit will continue teaching the Church. Jesus showed his disciples how to love; the Spirit will make that love possible among them. Jesus’ words are in danger of being forgotten; the Spirit will “remind” the disciples of what Jesus taught and continue to teach them in succeeding generations.

What is extraordinary about Jesus’ farewell is his gift of peace to his disciples. The disciples are not having an ordinary meal together; nor is Jesus bidding them, “Good night. Peace, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Instead he offers them peace in the light of the chaos about to enter their lives with his capture and death. He says he doesn’t give them the peace the world offers. That’s good because when things fall apart the world can give us nothing to sustain our spirits and calm our fears. Jesus’ peace take a very specific form: he will return to be with them. His Holy Spirit will strengthen them for what they are about to face and what we, their descendants, will face in the ages to come.

We know the kind of peace we need these days and it is a peace only Jesus’ Spirit can confer. We need wise leaders who can bring God’s peace despite the failures at peacemaking we are encountering in the world. We need the Spirit to bring healing to our troubled and wounded Church. We need a peace-rendering Spirit to draw together our parishes that are divided by arguments large and small. We need a Spirit that will renew our conviction that our Savior is the Prince of Peace, so that we can bring his peace into our families, schools and workplaces. We also need the Spirit’s vision to appreciate the peacemaker and non-violent folks in our midst whose voices and actions are often ridiculed as being naive or ignored because their ways seem “impractical in our modern world.”

No, we don’t have Jesus’ physical presence with us the way the first disciples did who sat around the table, witnessed his washing their feet and listened to his reassuring promises. His farewell to them was a true farewell. He would no longer be with them as he had been. But they and we would have to believe that he is present in a different way with us in the Holy Spirit, God’s gift to us, just as Jesus promised. If we can trust in the Spirit’s presence with us now, then we will have peace in whatever turmoil we or the church face. Easier said than done! This peace is not something we can manufacture for ourselves. It is a gift, or inheritance from Jesus who doesn’t want to “lose touch” with us. Can we be open to that Spirit now and receive the gift that keeps our ties with Christ strong? That’s something we pray for at this Eucharist and in these days leading up to Pentecost.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.

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

  • This discourse from the Last Supper, is Jesus’ long goodbye to his faithful friends of three years.
    How hard has it been for me to say goodbye to either persons or to a time in my life from which I had to move on?
    What promises did I make to those I was leaving behind?
    Have I kept in touch with them or forgotten them? What does that say about me?
  • How does clinging to the past make it hard for us to let go, to embrace the new in our lives?
    How does nostalgic clinging to the past or over-anxiety about the future keep us from living in the present?
  • Do I think Jesus ever had moments of anxiety, of worry, of fear, of loneliness?
    What do I think brought Him peace?
    What can bring me peace?
  • What does “peace” mean to me?
    Is peace just the absence of war?
    What do I think is the connection between peace and justice?
  • Is peace something we passively receive as a gift from God?
  • How is the word “peace” related to my right relationship with God?
    Just what IS a right relationship with God?
  • Do I see keeping Jesus’ word as a challenge or as a joy?
  • From Walter Burghardt, S.J.:
    Peace is your communion with God. Evaluate this definition in terms of your own personal life:
    What wars have you ended in your backyard or your bedroom?
  • Do others think of me as an agent of peace?
    What landmines of enmity and hate have I defused in my dorm, home, or office?
  • Jesus said “Do not let your hearts be afraid”. What am I fearful about?
    Have I ever experienced the presence of Jesus in the midst of fear?
    Have I tried?
  • Even the church of the disciples was plagued by divisions and rifts. Can calm and conflict be two different ways of the Spirit speaking to the Church?
    What disturbs the peace of my church right now?
    How am I helping to be a peaceful presence in the life of the Church?
  • Is anyone freer to laugh because you have swallowed your pride?
  • Who was hungry for food or affection that you have personally fed?
  • Who thirsts for justice and feels more human because you are there?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

In order to experience the peace of Christ, to feel His real presence, we need to open our hearts to others. Pick one concrete action you can perform this week to really SHARE the peace of Christ with another. Pray for the insight to see where your Christian heart is needed and go the extra distance to change a situation or a person you encounter. Especially pray for Ukraine and the suffering that they are enduring. If you can think of some small way to help, do so.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Adapted from “Sacred Space” 2022, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

Spend a few moments and let these words of Jesus speak to the deepest part of your heart, your life:
“Do not let your heart be troubled.” What worries me right now? What makes me sad right now? Is there anything I can do to mitigate the situation? I pray for guidance, for acceptance, for trust that Jesus is with me now and forever. I just sit with that notion, thanking Jesus for his ongoing presence in my life.

“Peace I leave you.” What do I mean by peace? What particular kind of peace am I praying for at this moment? Whose peace am I praying for right now? Can I believe that Jesus brings peace because Jesus IS peace?

I breathe quietly, in silence, without words, just resting in the presence of an all-loving God who desires my happiness.

A Meditation in the Dominican style/Asking Questions:

In Murder in the Cathedral, written by T.S. Eliot, Thomas Becket in his Christmas sermon said: “Does it seem strange to you that the angels should have announced Peace, when ceaselessly the world has been stricken with War and the Fear of War? Does it seem to you that the angelic voices were mistaken, and that the promise was a disappointment and a cheat?”

In the history I recall, where has the promise clashed with reality? In the news I consume daily, where has the promise clashed with reality? Why is that? Where do you spy peace on earth? Is peace really possible? Is peace another word that allows us to live at ease with the great divide between the hope and the reality, without looking at our role or our county’s role in the anger and hate that fuels so many conflagrations, international, national, and personal? How easy is it to blame “the other” for lack of peace? Where does forgiveness fit in? I spend some time praying for insight, courage and generosity of spirit which would help me be a better missionary of peace.

Poetic Reflections:

Most of the poems we run across, unfortunately, are describing or lamenting all the ways in which peace has been absent in human history. Here are a few:

“Tragic Error”

The earth is the Lord’s, we gabbed, and the fullness thereof– while we looted and pillaged, claiming indemnity: the fullness thereof given over to us, to our use– while we preened ourselves, sure of our power, willful or ignorant, through the centuries. Miswritten, misread, that charge: subdue was the false, the misplaced word in the story. Surely we were to have been earth’s mind, mirror, reflective source. Surely our task was to have been to love the earth, to dress and keep it like Eden’s garden. That would have been our dominion: to be those cells of earth’s body that could perceive and imagine, could bring the planet into the haven it is to be known, (as the eye blesses the hand, perceiving it form and the work it can do).”

—Denise Levertov, from The Evening Train

“Land of the Death Squads”

The vultures thrive, clustered in lofty blue above refuse-dumps where humans too search for food, dreading what else may be found. Noble their wingspread, hideous their descent to those who know what they may feast on: sons, daughters, and meanwhile, the quetzal, bird of life, gleaming green, glittering red, is driven always further, higher, into remote ever-dwindling forests.

—Denise Levertov, from a Door in the Hive

“We Are Saviors”

We have saved the world from political systems or economic systems or social systems of which we do not approve. We call it “our national honor”.

We have saved the world From oppression by people we do not like by giving our young people guns and allowing them to commit unspeakable atrocities on ordinary, everyday people in the name of liberation. We call it “collateral damage”.

We have saved the world From evil regimes in country after country, from Flanders fields to Vietnam, from Ancient Palestine to Iraq, and left each place worse than when we found it. We call it “the price of freedom”.

We have saved the world from sin and error from age to age, from the Spain of the Inquisition to the ovens of Auschwitz, and purified the world by taking people out of it. We call it “doing God’s work”.

At the end, we have saved nobody not this current generation not the children of the future not even ourselves, who have become what we have hated in others. We never learn.

Poetic Reflection:

Poet, environmentalist, farmer (and a former Stanford Stegner Fellow), Wendell Berry seeks nature as an antidote to his anxiety about his future and that of his family:

“The Peace of Wild Things”

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the woodrake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

—Wendell Berry from Collected Poems

Closing Prayer

From “Sacred Space”:

This is how you work with me, Lord. The Holy Spirit does not whisper new tidings in my ear, but rather reminds me of you, of your life and your words, so that gradually I put on Christ. We only learn what we already know. Help us to know your peace.

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Thomas Merton on War

“The church must lead the way on the road to nonviolent settlement of difficulties and toward the gradual abolition of war as the way of settling international or civil disputes. Christians must become active in every possible way, mobilizing all their resources for the fight against war…”

“The church must lead the way on the road to nonviolent settlement of difficulties and toward the gradual abolition of war as the way of settling international or civil disputes. Christians must become active in every possible way, mobilizing all their resources for the fight against war… Peace is to be preached, nonviolence is to be explained as a practical method, and not left to be mocked as an outlet for crackpots who want to make a show of themselves. Prayer and sacrifice must be used as the most effective spiritual weapons in the war against war, and like all weapons, they must be used with deliberate aim: not just with a vague aspiration for peace and security, but against violence and war. This implies that we are also willing to sacrifice and restrain our own instinct for violence and aggressiveness in our relations with other people. We may never succeed in this campaign, but whether we succeed or not, the duty is evident. It is the great Christian task of our time. Everything else is secondary, for the survival of the human race itself depends upon it.”

—Thomas Merton, quoted in Our God Is Nonviolent by John Dear, S.J., Pilgrim, 1990, p. 94.

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Commentary on the Farewell Discourses in John

What is most distinctive about these discourses [John 13:33 to 17:26], however, is the tone of them. There is none of the air of confrontation and challenge that marked the discourses of the Book of Signs (John, chapters 1:9 to 12:50). What accounts for the change in tone is that these discourses are addressed to the disciples—and thus to the Christian readers of the Gospel—to help them interpret the death and resurrection of Jesus.

This gospel selection is taken from John the Evangelist’s reflection on the last discourse of Jesus to his disciples at his last supper with them. They are called the “Farewell Discourses”.

This is what George W MacRae, S.J., in his discussion of John’s gospel, called Invitation to John (part of a series from Image Books) has to say about the farewell discourses of Jesus:

The farewell discourses (13:33 to 17:26) are not unified in form or in content, most probably because they consist of various originally distinct portions of discourses. Chapter 14 alerts us to this problem in that it is complete in itself, ending with what appears to be a final remark by Jess. Yet there are three more chapters of discourses to follow. The result of this collection is a very long section characterized by repetition, variations on. The same themes, sometimes even contradiction. But there is an overall unity of themes throughout the chapters, such as the departure and return of Jesus, the sending of the Holy Spirit, the mutual love of Father and Son, the new commandment of love, and others.

What is most distinctive about these discourses, however, is the tone of them. There is none of the air of confrontation and challenge that marked the discourses of the Book of Signs (John, chapters 1:9 to 12:50). What accounts for the change in tone is that these discourses are addressed to the disciples—and thus to the Christian readers of the Gospel—to help them interpret the death and resurrection of Jesus. It is hard to discover logical patterns which would enable us to divide the discourses into smaller units, and perhaps we are not meant to.

Because the discourses comment on events yet to happen, time is, as it were, collapsed in them. Present past and future are not logically distinct. Verse 25 is a good indication of this, for Jesus speaks as though he had already departed.

The emphasis of the discourse in chapter 14 and indeed of the others also is on the consequences for the disciples of the return of Jesus to the Father, But the discourses continue to be christologically oriented, particularly in terms of Jesus’ relationship to the Father. Such statements as “If you know me, you know my Father too”, and “To have seen me is to have seen the Father” are some of the strongest assertions in the Gospel that Jesus is the revelation of God himself. In Johannine thought it is this primary role of Jesus as revealer which undergirds the exclusive claim of Jesus to be not only the Way to the Father, but the only way to him. Despite the lofty claims of Jesus to be the Revelation of the Father, the Fourth Gospel does not simply equate Jesus with God. Jesus and Father are mutually in each other (verse 11) yet Jesus must go to the Father, “for the Father is greater than I” (verse 28)

One of Jesus’ main purposes in this discourse is to instruct the disciples to carry on his mission in the world after his departure to the Father. They are to “perform the same word” as he, even greater ones (verse 12). Our acquaintance with Johannine vocabulary enables us to translate this task as to confront the world with the revealing word of God and thus bring people to faith, but the disciples, who lack understanding, are bewildered, and are even about to desert Jesus in his passion, can hardly carry out this mission unaided. Hence Jesus promises them the Holy Spirit of trust who will be with them forever.

Verse 16-17 and 26 are the first two of several passages promising that the Father ( or Jesus) will send the Advocate, the Holy Spirit. This designation of the Holy Spirit is unique in the fourth Gospel (and the first Epistle of John) and obscure in its origin. It may be preferable to use the work “Paraclete”, which is merely taking over the Greek word used, since such translations as “Advocate” and “Counselor” indicate only limited aspects of what the Paraclete is to do for the Church. The most important is that this is another Paraclete (verse 16), implying that Jesus has fulfilled the same role while he was with the disciple. The Holy Spirit, therefore, in this capacity is the continued divine presence assisting the disciples to perform the mission of Jesus in the world. He will remain with them and within them. He will teach them everything and make them remember all that Jesus has said. The fourth Gospel itself is thus evidence of the work of the paraclete in the Johannine church.

Study Questions:

  • What do we learn about God if the ultimate revelation of him is in the human Jesus?

  • How does the Spirit function as a Paraclete (advocate, counselor, instructor) in the church of today?

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