Easter

Betrayal, Prayer, Grace: The Way To Easter

Today is the last day of Lent; tomorrow, we begin the Triduum – Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday. These are the holiest days of the year for Catholics, as we enter into Christ’s last days, the institution of the Eucharist, His example of washing the feet of the Apostles, His Passion and Death. They are somber days, quiet, contemplative. They are days of mystery and wonder, prayer and longing, peace and unrest.

Those themes (mystery, wonder, prayer, longing, peace, unrest) are outlined for us in the Mass readings for today.  In the first reading, Isaiah seems to be celebrating the gifts he’s been given in his prophetic office: a well-trained tongue, ears to hear God. But this passage is also about betrayal: those who oppose his words beat him,  spit on him, pull hairs out of this head. Yet, in spite of this, Isaiah remains faithful and grateful.

The psalmist cries out, “Lord, in your great love, answer me!” He is assured that God loves him and will answer him. He praises God in song, glorifies Him in thanksgiving. Yet again, we see betrayal: his own brothers have cast him out. They make his food inedible and give him vinegar to drink. Like Isaiah, the psalmist remains stalwart in his faith: “You who see God, may your hearts revive!:

Finally, and saddest of all, is the Gospel. Judas has put into motion his betrayal of Jesus. Jesus is well-aware of this, yet He includes his betrayer to dine with the group that night. He blesses the bread and wine – pronouncing them now His own Body and Blood – and Judas partakes. The most stunning sinner in history still has a place at the table.

It is hard to imagine the magnitude of pain Jesus felt by this betrayal. Here was a man in whom Jesus had seen great potential, a man fit for building the Kingdom of God. Jesus walked and talked with this man, ate with him, laughed with him, taught him. Judas was a brother in faith, until … he wasn’t.

Have you ever been betrayed? Most of us can relate, in at least a small way. Some of us have known the pain of infidelity in marriage, or learning that a beloved child has been stealing from us to feed a drug habit. Maybe a dear friend destroyed a confidence and hurt our reputation. Some of us remember being befriended by someone in school, but the only intention of that person was to get close enough so as to make us look foolish with their friends standing by, laughing at our expense.

Being human means you’ll get hurt. Our emotions are a gift from God, just like everything else about us, save sin. We say and do hurtful things. We get drawn into gossip. We harbor resentments and lash out. But for all our experience, we still do not know the depth of Christ’s pain.

It was not just the betrayal of Judas, however great a sin that was. It was the denial of Peter. It was the fact that all of His Apostles (except for John) fled when He needed them the most. It was the humiliation of being stripped, and His Father mocked. It was the weight of the Cross – a burden so large no man could lift it. The appalling weight of the Cross: made oppressive by our sins.

It is easy, sitting in our clean churches, our tidy homes, our coffee shop, to judge Judas. Yet, do we not betray Christ every day? We sin. We reject the life God has given us, in essence saying, “I know this is wrong, but I want it. I choose this action over the life God offers.” It is why, on Palm Sunday, it is so easy for us to cry out both “Hosanna!” and “Crucify Him!” Theologian Romano Guardini:

And yet, aren’t there many days in our lives on which we sell him, against our best knowledge, against our most sacred feeling, in spite of duty and love, for some vanity, or sensuality, or profit, or security, or some private hatred or vengeance? Are these more than thirty pieces of silver? We have little cause to speak of “the traitor” with indignation or as someone far away and long ago. Judas himself unmasks us. We understand his Christian significance in the measure that we understand him from our own negative possibilities, and we should beg God not to let the treachery into which we constantly fall become fixed within us.

We cannot save ourselves from betrayal. Our only hope is Christ. Over the next few days, our most fervent prayer should be one of contrition for our sins and for the whole world.

Today’s Mass begins with the priest praying on our behalf: “O God, who willed your Son to submit for our sake to the yoke of the Cross, so that you might drive from us the power of the enemy, grant us, your servants, to attain the grace of the resurrection.” May our Holy Week begin and end with this prayer, so that we may know the mystery, wonder, prayer, longing, peace, unrest of today’s readings, and thus enter fully into the joy of Easter morning!

 

EH headshotElise Hilton is an author, blogger and speaker. Her role at Diocesan Publications is Editor & Writer with the Marketing Team. She has worked in parish faith formation and Catholic education for over 30 years. A passionate student of theology, Elise enjoys sharing her thoughts on parish communication, the role of social media in the Church, Franciscan spirituality and Catholic parenting. To enquire about booking her as a speaker, please contact her at ehilton@diocesan.com.

 

betrayal

The Denial of Peter And Judas

How often do we take advantage of God’s merciful nature to say one thing and do another? We intend to say that Rosary each morning, but, well, God will understand if I just stop at a Hail Mary. At least I did that! We promise that we will not gossip, but then let a tidbit out and rationalize that we are only venting to a friend. We race through our day and fail to appreciate a blue sky, a field of flowers, or a healthy child, only to complain if something inconveniences us. We tell little “white” lies, cheat when “no one” will get hurt, and give only out of our surplus.

Every time we choose not to follow His commands, we betray His love for us, and we deny His authority.

Sometimes we like to use the examples of Judas and Peter to justify our own sinfulness. “Well, if he did that, and Jesus still forgave Him, then I’m not that bad.” Judas, unfortunately, relied upon his own understanding, and turned completely away from God. Peter, on the other hand, repented and found His new life in Christ.

So you have a choice: Do you continue to justify your own understanding of how you should live your life and betray what Jesus has asked of you, or do you deny your pride and your “old” self to find your new life in Him? Are you a Judas or a Peter?

And in the end, would you rather die because you ran away from Christ, or die because you followed Him?

Make a list. How do you betray or deny God, even in the smallest way, by your words, actions, or omissions?

Lord, please grant me the grace to be morally courageous in every way, never denying You in my thoughts, words, actions or omissions.

 

After marrying her husband, Jim Roberts, in 1980, Cynthia Millen graduated from law school and practiced in Ohio for a short while. Excited about having a large family, Jim and Cindy were blessed more quickly than expected with the birth of five children in four years (two set of twins). Her love for reading and writing grew into the publication of several children’s books (under the name C. M. Millen), poems and short stories (including a 2014 Tuscany Prize winner). Millen earned her Masters in Literature from Trinity College, Dublin, and relishes the teaching (and learning) of reading, writing, and grammar with middle school students at Christ the King School in Toledo, Ohio. Most of all, she treasures attending Mass there with wonderful parishioners and truly marvelous priests. [This reflection is used by permission of CatholicMom.com.]

forgiveness

“Forgiveness Is A Rough Thing”

Forgiveness is a rough thing. God forgives perfectly; His children do not. We hold grudges, mouth the right words, withhold our trust, and seek revenge. Of course, when we are wronged, we expect immediate forgiveness, but it’s still a rough thing.

Zookie McGee knows. He was sent to prison for nine years for a crime he did not do. And he was sent there be a dirty cop, Drew Collins. Yet, Zookie found it in himself to forgive Drew and the two are now friends. But it was a rough road.

The Detroit News told the story of “forgiveness and redemption” this week. Collins was a cop in Benton Harbor who found himself (along with his partner Bernard Hall) lured by the power, the money and he says, the attention.

The end came in 2008, when Collins’ supervisors, acting on a tip from Hall, found a cache of marijuana, cocaine and heroin in a lockbox under Collins’ desk, according to court records.

Collins confessed everything and worked with federal prosecutors to separate his good arrests from the bad ones.

When the FBI gave him a list of 200 drug-related cases and asked him to highlight the bad ones, he said it would be easier to mark the good ones because they were fewer.

“It just eroded into an all-out free-for-all,” said Collins. “I did some really stupid things.”

In a plea deal, Collins was sentenced to 37 months in a federal prison after pleading guilty to the same charge McGee had been convicted of — possession of cocaine with intent to distribute.

But what of McGee? He still sat in prison, knowing he should be free. And he was released after serving four years of his sentence, nine days after Collins was incarcerated in the same prison.

Friends said that McGee, before his arrest, was a kind and soft-spoken man. But the false arrest and his imprisonment hardened him. His anger, by his own admission, was out of control and he swore revenge on Collins.

About two years after his release, he took  his young son to a festival in a Benton Harbor park. Collins was there as a volunteer.

McGee walked up to Collins and asked if he remembered him. Collins did and the two men shook hands.

McGee gripped Collins’ hand tightly and wouldn’t let go. All the anger he felt in prison came flooding back.

“His whole countenance changed,” said Collins. “I thought, this is about to get bad.”

McGee told Collins to tell his son why McGee had been missing from his life for four years.

Collins apologized profusely but McGee didn’t want to hear it. He grabbed his son and walked away.

Yet, McGee kept seeing Collins in town. Over and over again. Both men were involved in local churches by this time, and McGee had enrolled in a job training program sponsored by the churches. He was assigned a mentor.

It was Collins. The program director was unaware of the two men’s past.

Collins, who didn’t recognize McGee, explained he had been a police officer and that, if he had ever had any dealings with McGee and mistreated him, he was sorry.

McGee said they’ve already had this talk, referring to the meeting at the park.

When McGee said who he was, Collins began apologizing, but the smiling McGee cut him off.

“That’s already forgiven,” he said. “God has that.”

When joining the program, McGee had resolved to make changes in his life.

The two men now work together and travel, sharing their story of forgiveness and redemption. Clearly, they have figured their way through the rough thing that is forgiveness.

Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. (Luke 6:36-37)

(Photo of Collins and McGee courtesy of Katy Batdorff/The Detroit News.)

betrayal

Betrayal, Despair And Salvation

Surely, it is not I, Lord?

Christ begins the Passover celebration with the Apostles by telling them that one of them will betray Him, their Lord and Master. There is denial and consternation among them: Surely, it is not I, Lord?

The Gospels clearly record Judas’ betrayal – selling out Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. We know, too, that Peter betrays Christ by denying he even knows Him, three times. Because the other ten Apostles were human, we know they betrayed Christ in some way. We betray Christ.

Sin is an ugly thing. It always damages relationships. Sometimes the slights are small: we are brusque with a co-worker or raise our voice to a small child. Other times, the sins are quite damaging: an abortion, an affair, theft from an employer. We betray God, each other and we betray the person God created us to be.

Despite his betrayal, Peter was chosen by Christ to lead the Apostles and the first Christians. How can that be? It is the mystery of salvation: Christ took those sins, and ours, with Him to the Cross and won for us our salvation. Peter knew He needed Christ and the salvation He offered.

What of Judas? Was his sin of betrayal so much greater? Some believe Judas’ fault lies elsewhere:

Perhaps Judas’ greatest sin was not in betraying Jesus; rather, it was in allowing himself to be consumed by a prideful despair after the betrayal. Unlike Peter and the rest of the apostles, Judas failed to repent; he failed to find hope. Like us at times, Judas could not see past his owns sins and his feelings of unworthiness. Instead of turning outward toward the Lord with a repentant heart that could have been filled with hope, Judas regrettably looked inward and saw only his own despair. Lacking the courage to begin his life anew, Judas ends his life by hanging himself.

Poor Judas despaired. He thought his sin was far too great to be forgiven. He lost hope; he failed to accept the salvation Christ offered.

There is not one of us who can stand and say, “I have no sin.” And no one of us can judge another. We even stumble when we judge ourselves, as Judas did. The Church has wisely given us the Sacrament of Reconciliation, so that a priest (acting in persona Christi) can counsel us and give us absolution. Otherwise, we could despair as well. Pope Benedict, speaking of this, said, “Let us remember two things. The first: Jesus respects our freedom. The second: Jesus waits for us to have the disposition to repent and to be converted; he is rich in mercy and forgiveness.”

This Tuesday of Holy Week, as we prepare to celebrate the Triduum, let us ponder our own need to repent, and the abundance of God’s mercy and forgiveness.