The intimacy of the Upper Room is one way to understand love. The sacrifice of Good Friday is another. The world we live in prefers to turn a blind eye to the presence of suffering in our world, instead of learning the valuable lesson it teaches. Here then is part two of the reflections for the Triduum:
Tender love enacted
Last night, as we began the celebration of the Easter Triduum, we reflected on the tender love expressed by Jesus for his disciples, gathered with him in the upper room. The Eucharistic meal which he instituted on that first Holy Thursday, and which we perpetuate in his memory has been referred to as the un-bloodied sacrifice (Fulton Sheen), but in order to fully understand and appreciate Jesus’ actions in the Upper Room they must be seen in light of the sacrifice he endured for us on Good Friday, because his acceptance of the cross was motivated by love.
We have listened today to the story of this sacrifice, but even having heard the words proclaimed, perhaps we still are tempted to sanitize the suffering. Crucifixion was messy business. It was painful. It was meant to be shameful. It was the torturous death reserved for criminals. We don’t often hear of crucifixions happening in our day, and yet sometimes I wonder whether they still go on right under our noses.
When Isaiah describes the suffering servant in today’s first reading, he speaks of one whose outward appearance is so marred as to be beyond human semblance. It might be difficult for us to envisage any person being willing to undergo the torture of being whipped, bruised and broken, but such torture still exists today, often inflicted at the hands of those who have grown accustomed to visible and tangible trappings of power and prestige.
If the apostles were bewildered by Jesus’ actions and words in the Upper Room, they were more astonished to witness the unfolding of the torture and death that took place on Good Friday, and even more by the silence with which he willingly accepted such suffering. Yet because of his willingness to surrender to the will of the Father, Jesus understood that this torture, this suffering was the means by which he would win for us the grace of heaven.
We live in a privileged society. With few exceptions, this part of the world is not usually prone to natural disasters. We will probably never see a tsunami hit this city. We will rarely experience tremors or earthquakes, so the suffering of the people of Japan is in some ways a world away and we can afford to ignore their plight if we choose, but we cannot ignore the challenges that fall right in our laps. How many of us, of our family members, of our close friends have been affected by serious diseases or medical conditions? How many of us, or our acquaintances have ever fallen victim to injustices? How many in this city suffer? At times there are no visible signs of the torture, but the suffering continues. How many of these accept their suffering and bear it silently, out of love for another?
Canada is in the midst of a federal election campaign. As we have seen the images of the party leaders flashed across television screens in these past weeks, I wonder how often we have even tried to see the face of Jesus in the faces of the candidates. Have we recognized him in the faces of the leaders and negotiators in foreign lands who are trying to bring about peace in places such as Egypt, Lybia and elsewhere? What of the countless aid workers present in Haiti, in Japan, in other torn and suffering parts of our world? Sometimes it’s easy to see Christ, and at other times it’s more challenging, as in the cases of those unjustly accused of wrongdoing? The suffering Jesus is all around us. His face is right before us if we have the eyes to see it.
Out of great love, he entrusted to us the gifts of his body and blood which we share in the Eucharistic banquet. Each time we do, we are reminded that the suffering of Good Friday was also undertaken out of great love so that we might come to believe that places of prestige in the Father’s kingdom are earned through compassion for others, through service to our neighbour and through constantly being on the lookout for the face of Christ who loved us to the end.
Tender love enactedLast night, as we began the celebration of the Easter Triduum, we reflected on the tender love expressed by Jesus for his disciples, gathered with him in the upper room. The Eucharistic meal which he instituted on that first Holy Thursday, and which we perpetuate in his memory has been referred to as the un-bloodied sacrifice (Fulton Sheen), but in order to fully understand and appreciate Jesus’ actions in the Upper Room they must be seen in light of the sacrifice he endured for us on Good Friday, because his acceptance of the cross was motivated by love.
We have listened today to the story of this sacrifice, but even having heard the words proclaimed, perhaps we still are tempted to sanitize the suffering. Crucifixion was messy business. It was painful. It was meant to be shameful. It was the torturous death reserved for criminals. We don’t often hear of crucifixions happening in our day, and yet sometimes I wonder whether they still go on right under our noses.
When Isaiah describes the suffering servant in today’s first reading, he speaks of one whose outward appearance is so marred as to be beyond human semblance. It might be difficult for us to envisage any person being willing to undergo the torture of being whipped, bruised and broken, but such torture still exists today, often inflicted at the hands of those who have grown accustomed to visible and tangible trappings of power and prestige.
If the apostles were bewildered by Jesus’ actions and words in the Upper Room, they were more astonished to witness the unfolding of the torture and death that took place on Good Friday, and even more by the silence with which he willingly accepted such suffering. Yet because of his willingness to surrender to the will of the Father, Jesus understood that this torture, this suffering was the means by which he would win for us the grace of heaven.
We live in a privileged society. With few exceptions, this part of the world is not usually prone to natural disasters. We will probably never see a tsunami hit this city. We will rarely experience tremors or earthquakes, so the suffering of the people of Japan is in some ways a world away and we can afford to ignore their plight if we choose, but we cannot ignore the challenges that fall right in our laps. How many of us, of our family members, of our close friends have been affected by serious diseases or medical conditions? How many of us, or our acquaintances have ever fallen victim to injustices? How many in this city suffer? At times there are no visible signs of the torture, but the suffering continues. How many of these accept their suffering and bear it silently, out of love for another?
Canada is in the midst of a federal election campaign. As we have seen the images of the party leaders flashed across television screens in these past weeks, I wonder how often we have even tried to see the face of Jesus in the faces of the candidates. Have we recognized him in the faces of the leaders and negotiators in foreign lands who are trying to bring about peace in places such as Egypt, Lybia and elsewhere? What of the countless aid workers present in Haiti, in Japan, in other torn and suffering parts of our world? Sometimes it’s easy to see Christ, and at other times it’s more challenging, as in the cases of those unjustly accused of wrongdoing? The suffering Jesus is all around us. His face is right before us if we have the eyes to see it.
Out of great love, he entrusted to us the gifts of his body and blood which we share in the Eucharistic banquet. Each time we do, we are reminded that the suffering of Good Friday was also undertaken out of great love so that we might come to believe that places of prestige in the Father’s kingdom are earned through compassion for others, through service to our neighbour and through constantly being on the lookout for the face of Christ who loved us to the end.
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