Love at all costs

Here is the text of the meditation I prepared and shared with those who were here today to commemorate the Lord's Passion.

Love at all costs, part 2

Today, we continue the liturgy that was begun yesterday evening.  In the Upper Room, the disciples were confused by Jesus’ words: This is my body that is for you … and … this is the cup of the new covenant in my blood (cf 1 Cor 11:23-25), but the more profound understanding of these gestures and words was unveiled in the drama that unfolded the next day.  When the meal was complete, Jesus had given them an example of the extent to which they and we must be willing to go in order to serve our brothers and sisters: get up from the table, take off our outer robes and tie a towel around ourselves (cf Jn 13:4), but Jesus wanted his disciples to go further, so once again he showed them (and us) that there is no limit to love, even to the point of death.

Isaiah's prophecy of the Suffering Servant (cf Is 52:13-53:12) was fulfilled on that first Good Friday.  The opening scene of Saint John’s account of the Passion tells us that Jesus took the eleven disciples across the Kidron valley to a place where there was a garden (Jn 18:1).  It was important for him that they should be together, but can you imagine the pain that was in his heart, knowing that Judas had left them?  Betrayal was only part of the suffering he endured, yet he never stopped loving.

When the soldiers arrived, he came forward and spoke to them: Whom are you looking for? (Jn 18:4)  Once again, he wanted to protect the disciples from harm, even if it meant that he had to sacrifice himself: if you are looking for me, let these men go (Jn 18:8).  When he saw that they were threatening to arrest Jesus, Peter tried to come to the rescue (like any good friend would), but God’s ways are not our ways. The lesson that Jesus wanted to teach was that love can overcome even violence.  This is why he told Peter: Put your sword back into its sheath (Jn 18:11).  He knew that in order to teach the disciples that love knows no limits, he would have to die: Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?  These same words have been uttered throughout the centuries on the lips of countless others who have faced the certainty of knowing that they were about to be made martyrs, most recently in Egypt, Iraq and even in Kenya, and yet they, like Jesus, did not hesitate.

I think that at least some of the disciples understood what Jesus had been trying to teach them: that they needed to stick together, that they needed to support one another … but I can’t help thinking that the other disciples must have been angry when they discovered Judas’ betrayal.  Did they remember the words that Jesus had spoken: the greatest among you must be as if he were the youngest, the leader as if he were the one who serves (Lk 22:26).

These words were probably far from the minds of Simon Peter and the other disciple when they followed Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest.  In fact, all it took was a few questions, posed by the guard at the gate and by some of the others who were standing around to show Peter how weak his faith really was (cf Jn 18:17, 25-27).  We are here today because each of us has a sincere desire deep in our heart to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, but we also know that discipleship comes with a very high cost.  The question that we need to ponder today is: Am I willing to follow Jesus all the way to the cross? Mary did; some of the other women did.  At least one of his disciples did.  

Even in his final moments of his earthly life, Jesus was still teaching us that love has no bounds.  He knew that he would no longer be able to care for his mother, but she still needed someone to watch out for her, so he told her: Woman, here is your son (Jn 19:26), and he knew that John, the youngest of his disciples still needed someone to love and guide him, so he told him: Here is your mother (Jn 19:27).

Throughout his public life, Jesus taught others how to love.  In the example he gave us on Good Friday, he showed us how far we must be willing to go in order to love others.  Throughout the centuries that have come and gone, many men and women have managed to reflect a ray of such perfect, uncontaminated love through the example of their own lives, even now, we gather at the foot of the cross in hopes of finding the strength to continue offering our talents and efforts out of love for our God and for our brothers and sisters.  

Through his suffering, Jesus became the source of eternal salvation (Heb 5:9).  When he knew that the life was seeping from his body, Jesus' last words said it all: It is finished (Jn 19:30).  How beautiful it would be if all of us, at the end of our lives, even with all our failures, in spite of all our sins, taking account of all our good works and our love for others, could say to the Father like Jesus did: It is finished.  None of us can utter these words and mean them as perfectly as Jesus himself said them, but how wonderful it would be to be able to say: Lord, I did the best I could.  It is finished.

In a few moments, we will spend some time adoring the Cross.  As we do, let us look toward Jesus.  Let us think about love, about service, about our lives, about the example of the Christian martyrs … and it would also be good to think about the end of our lives.  None of us knows when our time will come, but we can ask for the grace to be able to say: Father, I have done what I could.  It is finished.