OLDER LECTIO DIVINA

“I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live.” Do we believe this? It’s hard to believe in an afterlife we cannot witness or experience for ourselves. Jesus knows this, and he knew how his followers could benefit from a literal manifestation of what he was talking about when he said “whoever believes in me might not perish but will have eternal life,” as we read in last week’s Gospel. It’s important to put the liturgical readings in context, and to at least try and remember what we read the week before, because it’s all part of a story. This week we are witnessing Jesus proving what he told us last week. He is a man of his word, because he is the word of God and whatever God says is true. Christ is not redefining the laws of nature as he sets about raising Lazarus from the dead. He is not defying the laws that govern the universe which his father has put in place. But his father is suspending those laws so that others may come to believe in the Son whom he sent. 

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”

This verse is so well-known for the way it shows the saving power of God, that people often ignore the criteria Christ mentions in order to have eternal life. The word “believe” is not just a mere formality. It is the condition. St. James said “Faith without works is dead.” Christ is giving a formula for success in the same way a parent would tell his or her child how to achieve success in anything. Once a gift is given, it needs to be used. A father may say to his son. “I love you so much that I am giving you my guitar, so that if you practice every day you will become a great guitar player.” Or, “I love you so much that I’m giving you the football my dad gave me, so if you practice throwing it every day you will become a great quarterback.” Parents could buy the most expensive equipment or tutoring in an attempt to get their child to learn something, but practice and willingness on their part is still necessary. For salvation though, believing in Christ is not the same as simply believing that one day you’ll be a great guitar player. Believing is doing, and one can argue it’s the same with all other aspirations as well. I can believe I am a writer all I want, but if that belief does not lead to me actually writing then my belief is pointless. What does it mean to believe in Christ? He said we know a tree by the fruit it bears. We can claim to have faith in Christ, but if that faith does not bear fruit in our life that’s a good indication that we are not putting our faith into action. 

"Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”

For centuries the Jews worshipped at the temple, but clearly Jesus saw the temple differently than the Jews. They saw it as a building while Christ understood it as the presence of God. Christ is moving the worship of God from the temporal realm to the eternal by referring to himself as a temple. With his resurrection, he also moves the Sabbath from the last day of the week to the first, indicating the start of a new creation in him and the new life he offers. This may all seem like a renunciation of the laws established in the Old Testament, but that’s far from true. Should God have kept his people perpetually in the sixth day, worshipping him in one place in the realm of time and space? By offering God’s presence to all of us through the Eucharist, Christ is ushering in eternal and infinite worship of God in heaven.

“This is my beloved son. Listen to him.”

At Jesus’ baptism, God the Father said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). This time the Father says, “Listen to him,” while calling him by the same title, “My beloved son”. It’s important to keep these two verses connected. The Father tells us to listen to his son not only because he is his son, but also because the Father is pleased with him. We ought to follow Christ because he does the will of the Father. Without this connection, one can claim that the Father is just ordaining Jesus by some divine rite, or divine right. But the Father’s words are all the more relevant when we consider that the son obeys the Father, and this pleases the Father. Similarly, if one were to read Matthew 3:17, while not reading on to the Transfiguration, one could assume that the Father’s words at Christ’s baptism are just sentimental or typical of a relationship between a father and a son. Rather, God is saying that he sent his only son, not only to die for our sins but also to show the way to him. Listening to Christ is the way to God not only because he is God’s son, but also because God is pleased with his son. This is why Christ expects the same of us, saying “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you,” (John 15:9) and “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15).

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert

Depend on the Lord. He will provide. When God led the Israelites out into the desert, they complained about the lack of water and food. God drove them out to the desert so that they could learn how to depend on him. He thus provided them with sweet water and manna. Jesus begins his ministry with a similar exodus. Like John the Baptist, he brings nothing with him but the clothes he wears. His dependence on God is absolute. Jesus would later call his disciples to a similar kind of abandonment and dependence when he tells them to go forth and preach the kingdom of God and heal: “And he said to them, ‘Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics’” (Luke 9:2-3). What is it that drives us to do ridiculous things like this: when we are so filled with passion and zeal for something, we are willing to do anything to make it realized by others so our lives could testify to the truth that has changed our lives? Missionaries abandon everything they know to evangelize in a foreign land. Priests and other religious enter orders or seminaries, leaving behind all the comforts of their past life. What is it that drives these people? Often it is not a question of what, but who. The Holy Spirit drove Jesus into the desert for 40 days. As we begin Lent, meditate on the reckless abandonment Christ exemplifies here, and what he is calling us to, a calling that is in direct contrast to the comforts popular culture expects us to obtain and hold onto. 

 “I do will it. Be made clean.”

The simple exchange between the leper and Jesus points to a profound truth. The leper knows that Jesus is not a genie. Despite the leper’s obvious need, he still knows that being healed is up to God, not him. We should take this wisdom to heart when considering our own suffering. After all, Jesus said the same thing to the Father in the Garden of Gethsemene at the beginning of his Passion, saying, “Father, if thou art willing, remove this cup from me; nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). So many times we think God has to cure us of suffering if he is good. The perpetual criticism of God from atheists is “How can an all-powerful, all-knowing, omnipresent, and omnibenevolent God allow suffering?” We can spend our entire lives unpacking the simple answer: Because he is God and we are not. If God is not our barometer for what is good, then what is? Our own judgment? We ought to be humble enough to admit that God knows better, and even our sense of goodness is flawed. We see things in bits and pieces, often putting our own perspective before any other; but God sees everything at once and completely with the perfect understanding of it all. So if Jesus says, “Be made clean” to the leper, then there must have been some divine purpose to the miracle. 

“he drove out many demons, not permitting them to speak because they knew him.”

There is a time and place for everything, we read in Ecclesiastes, “a time to keep silence, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7). Jesus knew that the moment his identity became known, the plotting and scheming to have him killed would begin. Here he is not simply trying to avoid his death, but delaying it so he may complete his earthly ministry as the Father willed for it to be completed, by proclaiming that the Kingdom of God is at hand, calling people to repentance, healing the sick, casting out demons, and--most importantly--preaching the good news. Some Bible critics argue that Jesus never claims to be God. There are many adequate answers that can quell that suspicion, but take into consideration how Jesus had to keep his identity hidden to avoid being sentenced to death before his time had come. Many truths fall into place much better when we read the Gospel story and the Bible as a whole, rather than taking them piece by piece.

“A new teaching with authority.”

Throughout his ministry, Jesus asserts his authority which is given to him by his father in heaven. He says to his disciples, “As the father sends me, so I send you.” Whenever we say “In the name of the Father …” and make the Sign of the Cross, we are also invoking that authority. It’s no small matter, and that’s why using the Lord’s name in vain is a sin. The power that comes with God’s name is not to be used lightly. Even when we are simply praying grace before meals, it’s important to truly center ourselves and bring to mind the power of the one we are thanking. Christ said to his apostles, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:18-19). Do we acknowledge the power of such authority when we call upon his name and spread the gospel ourselves? 

“Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

Why does Jesus use such strange phraseology here? We can explain the use of the word “men” in simple terms, acknowledging that that’s simply how Scripture refers to all people in generic terms. But “fishers of men”? So the disciples are supposed to snatch people out of their natural habitat and have them for supper? The analogy just doesn’t sit right at first, especially when we consider that early Christians were considered by Romans to be cannibals because they ate and drank the body and blood of Christ. In fact, even the ancient ixthus, the image of a fish that symbolizes Christ, seems to carry on this notion. Perhaps we should just avoid Christ’s word choices here, and look for a more clever way to allude to the evangelization to which disciples are called. Or perhaps not. No word is wasted in Scripture. No word is out of place. Christ calls us to himself. He wants us to become one body. He wants to abide in us, and for us to abide in him. He gave us physical bodies to better understand the spiritual reality. The one who eats his Flesh and drinks his Blood becomes what he consumes, becomes Christ. In the Christian life, we are called to die to ourselves and become part of Christ’s body. Jesus caught Simon, Andrew, James, and John and brought them into his body, the Church. Many people do fight being lured in by God’s fishermen, his disciples, just as a fish would fight on a hook and line. Being drawn in by God means letting go of our old life and making our lives about something other than ourselves. It requires being consumed by love. We see throughout nature how something has to die in order to become something greater. Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a seed, Christ says. Christ calls us to complete conversion so he can offer us a much fuller life. This conversion requires repentance, an abandonment of our old selves and acceptance of a new life in Christ. In our culture, we are conditioned to interpret things in tangible and physical terms. Don’t shy away from this ‘fishers of men” analogy, but look at it in spiritual terms, which is the way Christ means for us to see it.