I Have Power to Lay It Down

Good Friday

No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.  I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again (Jn. 10:18).

Today, when you look upon your Savior on the cross – don’t feel guilty.  It isn’t enough.  Feel elated, feel loved, feel treasured and valuable.  No one takes my life, he said, I lay it down.  I lay it down because I love you, and I want to show you who I am; I will show you who you are; I am showing you who we are together.

Jesus is a victim, but a willing one.  The greatest love is this, he said, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends (Jn. 15:13).  Today, accept the friendship offered by the one on the Cross.  That is one thing that can make today very Good.


One Hour Retreat for Holy Week

Years ago in a course on the Synoptic Gospels, an assignment changed my life.  Fr. Frank Matera instructed us to read the Gospel of Mark – from beginning to end – in one sitting.  Before we began reading, we were to forget everything we thought we knew about Jesus – to set aside all of the deeply-engrained images, long-held presumptions and preconceived ideas we had accumulated over the course of our lives.  Reading Mark’s account, we were to meet Jesus for the first time – to encounter him with open minds in this fast-paced narrative – to be confronted by the radical life and urgent demands of this Jesus of Nazareth.  It was an assignment offered in an academic setting, but it had the potential to transform us at a far deeper level.

There is a general consensus among scholars that Mark’s Gospel was the first of the canonical Gospels to be written.  It is exciting to read a text so ancient and so raw, a text that was almost certainly used as the framework for the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.  I invite you to set aside one hour sometime this week, find a quiet place, and open your Bible to the Gospel of Mark (which is significantly shorter than the other Gospels).  Use your imagination and travel through the narrative with Jesus.  Listen to him, watch him, witness his death.  Be honest with yourself about what he is asking of you.  You are a disciple, and he is your Master.  You will never be the same!

Christ Healing a Leper, by Rembrandt

Christ Healing a Leper, by Rembrandt


Lessons of the Trees #2: Salvation

I’ve been thinking a lot about Zacchaeus lately.  I’ve always related to the story of his encounter with Jesus, knowing that I too would have had to climb a tree to have the slightest hope of seeing Jesus over a crowd!  It’s a great story for kids – that’s when I remember first hearing it.  I loved to climb trees, and I could just imagine climbing up a tree, and looking down to find Jesus looking up at me.

It’s a bit of an upside-down situation.  We usually look up into the skies to find Jesus.  Even though we know Heaven isn’t in the clouds, and the presence of Jesus is much more complex (or simple) than up or down, the orientation in our minds is Jesus above, ourselves below.  But Zacchaeus, in all of his shortness, and in all of his determination to see Jesus, to figure out who he was, did something that usually only children do.  He climbed a tree, to see over the crowds, to look down and see the face of Jesus for himself.

The real surprise in the story comes when Jesus – cutting through the crowd – hones in on Zacchaeus.  He calls him down from the tree.  He wants to be a guest at Zacchaeus’ house.  And Zacchaeus is utterly transformed by the attention, by Jesus’ desire, by the brief encounter with the man passing through Jericho.

You can bet Zacchaeus scrambled down from that tree.  I don’t know how tall Jesus was, but when they stood together under the sycamore tree, they looked at one another, eye to eye.  And salvation came to the house of Zacchaeus (Lk. 19:9). 


Lessons of the Trees #1: Bearing Fruit

There are almost 400 references to trees in Scripture, many of them producing great bunches of food for thought – from the Tree of Life in the middle of the Garden (Gen. 2:9) to the fertile Tree of the Cross (Gal. 3:13). 

One notable tree reference made by Jesus himself is found in the Parable of the Fig Tree.  It is a short and striking story that – in the tradition of the parables – is both arresting and comforting:

Then he told this parable: ‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, “See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?” He replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down” (Lk. 13:6-9).

The urgent message of Jesus found throughout the Gospels should kick us into gear – to realize that bearing fruit isn’t something to put off to another day, or another month, or another year.  He has expectations of us – really, really high ones – and the time to begin fulfilling them is right now.  Love my enemy?  Now.  Stop murdering in my heart?  Now.  Take care of someone forgotten by the world?  Now.  Willingly carry my cross?  Right now.

86954_fig-plant_lg.gif

But dare we hope that if we fall short, if our buds, flowers and fruits fail another year, that the Gardener may once more advocate on our behalf – and fertilize again – and that the Owner of the Orchard will again wait patiently?  From the heart of God, we learn the lesson of the fig tree.  The patience he requires us to have for one another, he requires of himself; the growth he demands is cultivated in the vineyard of his merciful love.


Praying Unadorned

One of my biblical school students, Patti Cacciabaudo, recently caught my attention with one of her homework answers.  She was reflecting on a powerful moment in the Book of Esther – a moment when Esther offers a heartfelt prayer for courage before going before the pagan king to plead for the lives of her people.  Esther is a faithful Jew – who also happens to be the queen! 

Before offering this prayer – which she knows may well be the last prayer of her life – Esther is feeling an anxiety that the text describes as “deadly.”  She flees to the Lord – but before opening her mouth, she very deliberately prepares herself for prayer.  Queen Esther exchanges her “splendid apparel” for the clothing of a mourner.  She foregoes perfume for ashes.  “She utterly humbled her body; every part that she loved to adorn she covered with her tangled hair” (14:2). 

Patti’s insight was this:  Isn’t this the attitude we should all take into prayer?  Esther was a queen, with every right to her finery and adornments.  But in God’s eyes, she knew what she was – she was simply his child, his faithful one, his little one in need of salvation.  Before the Lord, there are no kings and queens.  There are just little ones.  As Patti explained, “Without the ‘finery’ of fashion, of worldly goods, I simply present myself before him, unadorned, a child of the Father.” 

Francois-Leon Benouville

Francois-Leon Benouville

Note:  The prayer of Esther is found in the deuterocanonical additions to the book of Esther.  To read it, click here.