paschal mystery

The Paschal Mystery And Divine Failure

 Failure.  Suffering.  Defeat.  Loss.

We work so hard to avoid these things.  We’re pushed to achieve and succeed in a world that seems divided between winners and losers.  We internalize these messages when we do not measure up to society’s expectations, or worse, our own expectations for ourselves.

Defeat and failure is where we find the prophet Jeremiah in today’s first reading.  Jeremiah is having an interior crisis.  We often think of the prophets as those who have the fixed vison of God before them always.  Sometimes they are granted this vision, such as Isaiah’s mystical revelation of God’s glorious throne. (Is 6)  But often, their vision is obscured and they are plunged down into the discouragement and despondency of failure.  Read Jeremiah’s entire prayer in chapter 20, where his suffering has reached the point that he rues the day of his birth and wishes that he had been aborted in his mother’s womb.  His is deep spiritual anguish.

Failure. Over and Over.

We see this pattern often in scripture.  John the Baptist is given vision, “Behold the Lamb of God . . . I saw the Spirit come down.” (Jn 1:29-34)  Later, jailed facing death, he is denied this vision and sends his disciples to Jesus to ask if he is indeed the One or should they look for another. (Mt 11:2-6)  At Caesarea Philippi, Peter proclaims Jesus, “The Christ, the Son of the living God.”   He immediately followed this divinely-given insight by tempting Jesus to turn away from the road of suffering and death. (Mt 16:13-23)  Many of the same people who chanted “Hosanna to the Son of David!” on Palm Sunday roared “Crucify him!” only days later.  Even Christ himself, the quintessential Prophet was not spared.  On the road to Jerusalem to face his destiny, Jesus is transfigured and hears the words every son longs to hear, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”  In Gethsemane and on the Cross, he feels the full weight of divine abandonment: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Hearts of Stone

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is confronted by his ministry’s failure to penetrate the hearts of his own people.  Their hearts have become as hardened stone, and now they physically pick up rocks to violently stone him.  It seems strange to call Jesus’ ministry a failure, but what else could we call it from a worldly perspective?

After a promising beginning, full of signs and wonders, Jesus loses followers, from the rich young man through those who could not accept his Eucharistic teaching.  One of his inner circle betrays him, and his chosen leader and Rock, Peter, denies him.  Only a handful had the devotion to stand at the foot of his cross.  In the eyes of the world, Jesus and his ministry are a failure.

But this is our entrance into the heart of Christ’s Paschal Mystery.  Why do we call it a mystery?  God is Life. He is the Source and Ground of all Being.  God cannot die.  Yet God does die on Calvary’s Cross.  God is All-Powerful.  He has no weakness. Yet he is delivered up, defenseless, to the politically and religiously powerful to be scourged, mocked, abused, killed.  The ultimate sin, human beings murdering their God, becomes the act of ultimate love and redemption.  Defeat and death become the triumph of eternal life. We cannot intellectually reconcile these things.  We can only enter into the Paschal Mystery sacramentally.  Theologian Romano Guardini: “There are profound questions that return after every proposed solution, mysteries whose intrinsic meanings, not solved but lived, increasingly clarify the faith of those who live them.”

Success Is Not a Gospel Category

Perhaps your Lent has been like mine.  A failure.  Scuttled, intermittent prayers.  Lost opportunities to generously give, serve, and stand in solidarity with the poor and vulnerable.  Self-indulgent in food and drink.  Broken promises to God and those close to me.  Still struggling and committing the same sins that I repented of on Ash Wednesday.

Fortunately, success is not a Gospel category.  In light of Christ Crucified, failure may be more beneficial to our spiritual growth than success. We can see ourselves as we truly are, wounded and in need of a Redeemer.  As C.S. Lewis wrote, “How can we meet (the divine) face to face till we have faces?”  All false fronts must drop before God if we are to enter into a real, holy, intimate relationship.  He desires hearts to become fruitful, not paragons of individual achievement, even spiritual achievement, not “self-made” women and men.

We approach God through the liturgies Holy Week as St. Therese of Lisieux did, “with hands emptied for your love . . . more and more emptied that they may be filled with You.”  Our own successes and achievements (which we owe to God anyway,) our own failures and defeats, mean little standing within the Paschal Mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection.

God’s forgiveness, grace, peace, and love are abundantly available to be received this blessed week, if we only die to our obsessions with success and failure, winning and losing, and enter the divine mystery of our redemption.  If we open ourselves up to filled with the love flowing from the heart of God, he will accomplish his saving work through us, making us fruitful beyond our imagining.

 

John Graveline, MTS, is a husband and father of three small children.  He has worked for almost twenty-five years as a catechist and ministry coordinator specializing in the evangelization of young adults, adults, and families.  He is currently on the pastoral staff of St. Luke University Parish at Grand Valley State University as the Faith Formation Director.  

 

Calling of Saints Peter and Andrew

St. Andrew: A Saint For Advent

Today’s Advent reflection for the 2nd Tuesday of Advent, 2016

[Throughout the 2016 Advent season, we will be bringing you guest posts from a variety of writers. Our hope is that each of these will be a meaningful way for you to slow down, pray well, and prepare for the coming of our Lord. Today’s guest blogger is Fr. Colin Mulhall, reflecting on the Mass readings for November 30, the feast of St. Andrew the Apostle.]

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Apostle St. Andrew, the “first-called” of the Apostles.  He is so named because in the Gospel of John, he is the first of the Apostles to follow Jesus.  Andrew is the one who introduces Peter to Jesus in the Gospel of John.

It might be said that it’s because of a bit of fraternal nagging that Peter met Jesus and eventually became the Prince of the Apostles.  It is fitting that we celebrate his feast during Advent, a time of preparation for the coming of Christ.  Here was a man who was eagerly awaiting the coming of the Messiah, and was most likely a follower of John the Baptist.  When John pointed out Christ, the Lamb of God, Andrew was probably filled with curiosity, and followed Jesus, eventually being invited to “come and see” where He was staying.

The attitude of Andrew, that hopeful expectation of the coming of Christ, is the attitude we are all called to emulate this Advent season.  We are invited to commemorate the coming of the Christ Child, and to prepare ourselves for the triumphant return of Christ in glory.  St. Andrew reminds us Christians that our fundamental attitude is one of preparation and eager anticipation.  We are in a constant of state of tension, an eschatological tension, awaiting the definitive victory of Christ, which has been accomplished in the Paschal Mystery of His suffering, death, Resurrection and Ascension, but has yet to be fully realized.  St. Andrew teaches us what it looks like to wait with the certainty of a hope based in the sure promises of God in Christ Jesus.

Take the opportunity this Advent season to welcome Christ into your life in a new way, letting St. Andrew and all the Saints lead us all into deeper relationship with the Lord.

Fr. Colin Mulhall is associate pastor at St. Robert of Newminster Parish in Ada, MI.

 

tomb

Heading Into The Tomb

During the season of Lent, we are acutely aware of death, it seems. The readings seem to have a sense of foreboding to them; we know we are getting closer and closer to Good Friday. In some of our churches, the holy water fonts are empty. The decor changes: instead of fresh flowers, there are cacti or simple, empty pots or even stones. We limit our feasting; we are on watch for death. We are, in a sense, headed for the tomb.

Catholic writer Heather King, in her book Redeemed: Stumbling Towards God, said this,

… I remember a homily that Father Jarlath at St. Thomas the Apostle once gave about the time Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead: he said we all have things in us that are from the tomb – old rotting resentments, griefs, sorrows – and when it is time to look at them, it’s a good idea to bring Jesus in with us.

Lent is about heading into the tomb. It is certainly about Christ’s Passion, Death and Resurrection (the Paschal Mystery, the Church calls it) but it’s also about acknowledging our own tomb. As King puts it, we all have that place in us where things are left to die. Maybe it’s a relationship that should have been mended a long time ago. Perhaps what is dying in us is our faith; life has worn us down and we wonder if God has forgotten us. Our tomb may be a place where we struggle with an addiction; we’ve buried our true self behind the rocks of alcohol or drugs or pornography.

Many people choose to remain in their tombs. They become embittered, they lose faith, they “die,” in a way. Some of us want to get out, but we don’t know how. After all, who can roll that huge stone out of the way so that light can stream in?

The only way out of the tomb is through Christ. He alone has conquered death and sin. He alone can raise us – as He did for Lazarus – from the grave. For some of us, it may be a matter of simply recognizing this and falling to our knees in thanksgiving. The vast majority of us need the Sacrament of Reconciliation to acknowledge our own sinful part of the tomb. And some of us will need professional help (a psychologist, a spiritual director) in order to sort out how we ended up in the tomb and how we can live our lives outside that tomb.

In John 11, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. When Lazarus’ sister Martha expresses some doubt about Jesus command to remove the stone from the tomb’s entrance, He says, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?”

A tomb can be a frightening place. But if we bring Christ with us, we will see the glory of God. Jesus promised us, and so it will be.