Good Friday: We Must Do This Too

The word “disciple” means “learner.”  But what makes a disciple different than a student?   A disciple is completely devoted to the teacher.  A disciple walks along with the teacher, listening and changing because of him.  A disciple might say something like, “I want to think like my teacher.  I want to be like my teacher.”  A student departs at the end of the course.  But a disciple remains at the feet of the teacher.

We are not students of Jesus Christ.  We are disciples.  As we follow him today along the Way of Salvation, we should also say, “I want to think like my teacher.  I want to be like my teacher.”  Our teacher will not say much more to us; but he will act, and we will watch.  We will see the greatest love of all, the kind that lays down its life for a friend.  And so as disciples, we will see what we too must do. 

One thing that makes this day so holy and so good is not only what he did, but what he teaches us to do.  As is expected of disciples, we must continue the work of the Master: 

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another” (1 Jn. 3:16).

Stay With Me

As Holy Week approaches, it may be useful to focus on one Gospel verse that can serve as your guide through these holy days.  This time of year, there is so much going on personally and spiritually – having a theme or focus may help you “get it together” so you can walk with both serenity and purpose alongside Christ as he enters Jerusalem and embraces his fate on your behalf.

You may already have a favorite verse that can give you focus during these last weeks of Lent.  Write it on a card or sticky note and place it somewhere you will see it at least a few times a day – near your computer or in your prayer book.  Passages such as John 14-16, Philippians 2 or even Isaiah 53 offer a treasure-trove of possibilities. 

Another favorite of mine – and one I offer you here – is found within the very poignant depiction of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples as found in Luke’s Gospel (Lk. 22:14-38).  Here we witness an intimate scene between Jesus and his closest companions.  The disciples – who have failed Jesus in the past and will fail him again in the very near future – are the objects of Jesus’ love and affection.  Jesus tells them how eagerly he has desired to share this meal with them (22:15), how his blood is poured out for them (22:20), and – even when they begin to argue over which of them is the greatest (note that this conversation takes place immediately after receiving the bread and wine given and poured out for them!) – even when they again show their human frailty – Jesus patiently points them back toward humility (22:27) and then promises them the future bounty of his Kingdom (22:30).  One might see in this passage – punctuated by the betrayal of Judas and the impending denials of Peter – a portrait of Jesus’ undying love for sinners.

In the midst of this communion, Jesus says to his disciples:  “You have stayed with me through all my trials” (22:28).  It is bittersweet to know that these friends of Jesus will soon abandon him – first by sleeping and then by fleeing, leaving Jesus alone to face the brutality of his captors and a lonely death.  But we cannot judge them.  We also sleep and flee; we leave him alone on a regular basis. 

For these next few weeks, we can meditate on these gentle words of Jesus and the trusting expectation they hold:  “You have stayed with me through all my trials.”  We often talk of trusting Jesus – but it seems he also trusts us – to stay with him, to be faithful, not to scatter.  Perhaps our hearts must change if we wish to never betray this enormous, divine trust.  But isn’t that what Lent is all about? 

Lord Jesus Christ, give me the strength and serenity, the focus and purpose, to stay with you.  You believe in me and my love for you.  I do not want to fail you.  I do not want to sleep through this time.  I do not want to abandon you for the cares of the world.  Change my heart so I may love you more than I love myself.  Change my heart so I do not turn away from your Cross.  Change my heart Lord, and this time, I will stay with you through all your trials.

Lessons of the Trees #6: Under the Fig Tree

Nathanael said to him, "How do you know me?"  Jesus answered him, "I saw you under the fig tree"      (Jn. 1:48).

Have you ever been noticed across a crowded room?  Has anyone ever paid attention to you unexpectedly?  Has someone noticed something special about you – something small or something you didn’t think anyone knew, or something you didn’t even know yourself?  Has anyone ever looked at you in such a way that pages of words and thoughts were communicated in a moment?

And how did that make you feel?  How did being connected with that person make you feel?  Alive?  Like the best version of yourself?  Not alone?

We live in a constant state of tension between two extreme opinions of ourselves.  On the one hand we are utterly enamored with ourselves – this is the side of us that subconsciously thanks God that we are not like the rest of humanity (cf. Lk. 18:11).  On the other hand, we doubt and even despise ourselves to the point of believing ourselves unlovable (“If they really knew me, they would not love me”).

But what if there was someone whose gaze alone could penetrate us with such clarity that we moved away from this exaggerated tension into the peaceful middle, where we could see ourselves as we truly are – genuinely flawed but entirely lovable?  What if there was someone whose gaze expressed such love to us that we believed once and for all that we are the beloved?  What if there was someone who could simply say “I saw you” – and in those words communicate to us that he knows all the little things about us, all the special things, all the things no one else ever noticed before?  How would we respond to that remarkable person?

Nathanael responded:  “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel” (Jn. 1:49).  And then he followed him.

I suppose one who noticed us across a crowded room and loved us so would be irresistible. I suppose that is what Nathanael felt.  Jesus saw Nathanael – saw him, knew him, and loved him.  And as one of his disciples, he taught him, nurtured him, challenged him, called him friend, encouraged him, died for him.  He made promises to him and kept them.  Then he went and prepared a place for him.

Under the fig tree, you too have been seen.  Loved, taught, nurtured, befriended.  Everything about you.  Seen, known, and loved beneath the fig tree.

Nathanael Under the Fig Tree by James Tissot

“Standing before him with open hearts, letting him look at us, we see that gaze of love which Nathanael glimpsed on the day when Jesus said to him:  ‘I saw you under the fig tree’ (Jn. 1:48)” (Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium 264).

Guilt vs. Repentance

“Godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation and brings no regret, but worldly grief produces death” (2 Cor. 7:10).

This verse from the rich book of 2 Corinthians tells us all we need to know about the difference between guilt and repentance.  This is an important distinction to make – it has extreme consequences for our spiritual lives, for the way we relate to God and the way we believe he relates to us.  It is an especially important distinction to make during the penitential season of Lent, when we spend time pondering the mystery and the harmfulness of our sin, and recognizing our corresponding need for a Savior.

Paul coins the term “Godly grief,” and he contrasts it with what we would call good old-fashioned guilt.  There are several things to know about Godly grief:  1) It produces “repentance,” a term that in the Scriptures is associated with a change of mind and heart, a conversion or turning; 2) This repentance, or change of heart, leads to salvation.  Why?  Because when we recognize and turn away from sin, we turn back to God; and 3) It “brings no regret.”  This is my favorite part.  Godly grief leads to repentance, which turns us to our Savior, who frees us mind and body.  When we turn to him with contrite hearts, the slate is wiped clean.  Life with no regret?  That sounds awesome!

“Worldly grief” is less complicated.  It just produces death.  Worldly grief (guilt) is the kind of sorrow and fretting that focuses on ourselves – what I did wrong, how bad I am, why I can’t stop.  The reason this kind of grief gets us nowhere is because it has no point of reference beyond ourselves.  It turns inward and stagnates.

Feeling bad for doing something wrong is a natural human emotion.  It brings us to a fork in the road.  In one direction, we can choose an open and honest sorrow for sin that unites us with a merciful God and reconciles us with our brothers and sisters (who are also sinners!).  In this direction we move rather freely toward salvation, unfettered by regret and shame.  In the other direction lies the dead end of guilt.  If we follow this path, we get tripped up by our own road blocks until we finally just stumble into a pit.  In the pit we feel restricted.  Trapped within ourselves, it is dark, and we lose all sense of direction.  We experience the slow, numbing death of negativity and self-loathing.  From the bottom of the pit, how could we think of a Savior when we can’t stop thinking about ourselves?  How can we hear his voice when we are so focused on the voices in our own heads?

This Lent, let’s cultivate Godly grief – not to be sad, but to be honest, to articulate within ourselves a need for something beyond ourselves, our need for the one who saves us.  This is how we live a life without regret.  This is how we live in salvation instead of death.  This is how we move seamlessly from penitence to joy and from Cross to Resurrection.

If you’re in my area, here are a few things going on in the next few weeks:

Sat., 3/7:  Share your Lenten journey with me at a Day of Reflection at the Caritas Christi Center in Hamden, CT.  We will reflect on the Cross of Jesus and how it is a source of strength for us.  The day will include quiet time for personal prayer.  Registration is required.  For more information, please click here and see “Lenten Retreat:  Finding Strength in the Weakness of my Cross."

Sun., 3/8:  The Hartford Catholic Biblical School is hosting a Scripture Day open to the public on Sun., March 8 at St. Thomas Seminary in Bloomfield.  Dr. Thomas Groome of Boston College will present on connecting the Bible to our lives.  The event is free, but registration is required.  Please click here for the event flyer and registration.

Sat., 3/14:  The World Meeting of Families is coming to Philadelphia this fall and…you might have heard Pope Francis is coming?!?  Connecticut is getting ready!  On the afternoon of March 14th, you can attend a World Meeting of Families CT Workshop.  A keynote speaker and a panel of presenters will discuss various aspects of the Church’s understanding of family.  The event will be held at the Knights of Columbus Museum in New Haven.  A lot of hard work and planning has gone into this event, and I’m sure it will be a worthwhile day.  Click here for the event flyer.

Enough Said

“Perfect love casts out fear” (1 Jn. 4:18).