Month: March 2016

4th Week of Lent, Friday

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As we draw clearer to Holy Week the readings take a more menacing tone. Today’s First Reading echoes perfectly the mentality of the scribes and Pharisees who seek to kill him (the wicked), and their reasons why, even though they probably don’t consider themselves wicked. Their description of the just man who is detestable to them can fit Our Lord perfectly, and so will the outcome.

In today’s Gospel we see Our Lord starting to be more careful when entering Judea, knowing his life is in danger. The crowds aren’t sure what to make of the lack of action on the part of the authorities. Some think the authorities also believe he is the Christ, but the main point of confusion is the interpretation of prophecies regarding the Messiah. The Messiah will come from Bethlehem, although not everyone knew that, and Jesus was known to be from Nazareth in Galilee. Interpretations of Isaiah also said that the Messiah would have a mysterious, unknown origin, so even Jesus being from Bethlehem would be problematic.

The dilemma is resolved in faith and a deeper understanding. If the crowds had done a little more legwork they would have discovered that Our Lord was born in Bethlehem. That wouldn’t have been enough, and it would have been the harder way. The easier way, which Our Lord encourages them to take, is to believe in him and by whom he has been sent. That is the mysterious and unknown origin attributed to Isaiah’s prophecy: not only that he comes from God, but that he is God. The only way to arrive at that conclusion is to believe in the signs Jesus has performed as testifying to his divine, mysterious origin.

Christ is always veiled in mystery; the only way to part the veil and gain a deeper understanding of him is to have faith in him and ask him to help you understand the mysteries of God. Ask, and you will receive.

Readings: Wisdom 2:1a, 12–22; Psalm 34:17–21, 23; John 7:1–2, 10, 25–30.

4th Week of Lent, Thursday

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The scribes and Pharisees sat on the seat of Moses, inheritors of his authority over the People of God, but didn’t give the example that they should (cf. Matthew 23:1–3). What a great contrast between Moses and the Lord, in today’s First Reading, and Our Lord and those who succeeded Moses in authority in today’s Gospel. Moses interceded when the Lord wished to wipe out the People of God for their obstinacy. In today’s Gospel, Our Lord tries to show Moses’ successors their obstinacy, not to condemn them as they’re trying to condemn him, but, in his own words, “I say this so that you may be saved.”

What’s the diagnosis? That John the Baptist testified to Our Lord’s mission, but the scribes and Pharisees didn’t accept everything John preached and taught; they feared going against him due to public opinion, even though they admired it when he laid down the Law. They questioned John, but only accepted what suited them. Therefore it’s no surprise that when Our Lord gave greater testimony and backed it up with signs they wouldn’t believe either. Furthermore, the Father himself has given testimony to sending his Son; if they had had a loving relationship with the Father they would have recognized the Lord and believed in him, but they don’t, therefore not even searching Scripture do they manage to find testimony to Our Lord. Lastly, and worst of all, Moses himself, whom they revere as the keeper of the Law and consider as their guide and exemplar, will condemn them for not believing in Jesus, showing them how shaky their “legal” case is against him.

Our Lord may have been harsh with them, but he had their salvation in mind and knew, as the First Reading reminds us, how stubborn they could be. Maybe these words didn’t convert them en masse, but we can hope a few in the back of their crowd opened their hearts, just as Nicodemus did. Lent will be over soon. Let’s examine whether there’s any spiritual obstinacy in our hearts that blinds us and separates us from God. Have we made some legal case against him? Have we read Scripture with a myopia that blinds us to his love for us? It’s not too late for the Lord to give us a diagnosis too.

Readings: Exodus 32:7–14; Psalm 106:19–23; John 5:31–47. 

4th Week of Lent, Wednesday

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Today’s Gospel continues the aftermath of Our Lord healing an infirm man at Bethesda, which we considered yesterday. Since Jesus had healed on a Sabbath, the “Jews” (the scribes and Pharisees) began to persecute him. Today’s Gospel begins with his response to their criticism: God the Father works on the Sabbath, and, therefore, so does he, since he’s been sent by the Father. Despite their lack of faith they intuit from this declaration that Jesus considers himself equal to God in this affirmation, which is why they think he deserves death. So we see events slowly turning toward Holy Week and Our Lord’s Passion.

John’s Gospel often communicates at multiple levels. In this case, Our Lord is not shying away from the fact of being God the Son, although that would be a terrifying realization to his listeners if they grasped it fully, since the Lord for them was someone tremendous, transcendent, and awesome, but Our Lord is also explaining today how every believer, in imitation of him, should imagine and live his relationship with God. God wants to be Our Father, so we should treat him as a good son or daughter would, in imitation of Jesus. Today’s First Reading encourages Israel to realize that the Lord loves us as a parent and beyond: even if by some tragedy a mother should forget her child, the Lord would not forget.

Lent is the perfect time to revisit our relationship with Our Father and see whether we’re being good sons and daughters. No matter what we do, he’ll never forget us or stop loving us. Seek his will, because his only desire is our love and happiness.

Readings: Isaiah 49:8–15; Psalm 145:8–9, 13c–14, 17–18; John 5:17–30.

4th Week of Lent, Tuesday

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The infirm man by the pool of Bethesda in today’s Gospel had taken a great step forward after thirty-eight years, despite the fact that he was unable to move. He acknowledged that he needed help to be freed of his predicament. As Our Lord would later reveal, his illness was just a symptom of a deeper problem: sin. He’d been sick for thirty-eight years, but it’s not clear how long he’d waited near the pool. Somehow he got there, and that desire to be there showed something was dawning in his soul, something good: he wasn’t just lamenting his health. Now he was seeking a spiritual solution. It was believed that when the waters moved in the pool of Bethesda you could bathe in them and be healed: some ancient biblical manuscripts added here that an angel brushed its wings on the water, showing with the ripples that an opportunity was at hand for healing. As the number of people around the pool demonstrated, many people hoped for this miracle.

It doesn’t seem the infirm man was completely paralytic, but he couldn’t move easily. Who knows whether he’d spent the last of the little strength he had to just get nearer to the pool, but now there was no one to help him go further. Or wasn’t there? The infirm man in his mind had a plan, and it involved God: he was taking a step forward in faith and trust going to Bethesda despite his limitations. He believed healing was possible there. Our Lord comes onto the scene, knowing his plight and his desire, and the man expresses his faith in a miracle and that all he needs is a little help to receive it. The miracle arrived: Our Lord healed him and then disappeared into the crowd. When the healed man picks up his mat and walks off, he doesn’t understand much of what happened; all he knew was that a stranger healed him. Once he had a little time to process what had happened, Our Lord sought him out and warned him against falling back into the true source of his woes: sin.

Some sins are only conquered after a prolonged battle. This should not discourage us. The important thing is to keep our eyes fixed on where we need to go spiritually in order to overcome them. Our Lord works through our faith, our trust, and our effort. Lent is a time to progress in conquering sin. Let’s keep moving forward as the Lord reveals the path to us and not get discouraged when it seems we hit a roadblock. The moment will often come when you least expect it.

Readings: Ezekiel 47:1–9, 12; Psalm 46:2–3, 5–6, 8–9; John 5:1–16.

4th Week of Lent, Monday

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The Gospel of John is a Gospel of signs. John recalls the signs that Our Lord performed in order to encourage people to believe in him. The first sign was the wedding feast at Cana where Jesus changed water to wine. This sign was already starting to bear fruit: as today’s Gospel recalls, when Our Lord passes through Cana again, a royal official already knows his reputation and seeks him out to heal his terminally ill child.

Today’s First Reading reminds us that one of the signs to which we can look forward is the end of sorrow and the blessing of longevity; it is a freedom from illness and the sorrow that ensues from it. The royal official today is seeking a healing, but still expects a process to be followed when he approaches Jesus. Perhaps he was rationalizing what Our Lord could do and how, which is why he asked him to come down to Capernaum and heal his son; he thought he was on a time table, based on his son’s worsening condition. So Our Lord, in a sense, asked him for a sign of faith and trust by chiding him and then telling him his son would live. The royal official knew that if it wasn’t true his boy could very well be dead by the time he returned home. So John recalls that the man believed and headed back home; he really had no sign to go on other than the first sign and Jesus’s word. It was a long journey (around 25 miles), and servants met him along the way to tell him his son had recovered. It was at the exact hour Jesus said his son would live. This was the second sign in John’s Gospel: with a few words Our Lord healed a dying boy who wasn’t even present.

We pray for miracles, and we should, but even in praying for them we have an opportunity to practice faith and trust by not insisting on the ways and means. Our Lord knows what we need before we ask, but we should ask. He may stretch our faith and trust a little, but if we trust in him, everything will work out. We also know miracles don’t always happen in this lifetime, but today’s First Reading reminds us that it is not a matter of “if,” but, rather of “when.” If the miracle doesn’t happen here, it will happen in eternity, thanks to Our Lord.

Readings: Isaiah 65:17–21; Psalm 30:2, 4–6, 11–12a, 13b; John 4:43–54.