View as Webpage
Morning Devotion for the Season of Lent
March 24, 2023
Feast Day of Oscar Romero
Invitatory
Rend your hearts and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and repents of evil.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.
Reading: John 12:20-26
Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew, then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain, but if it dies it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.
Meditation – Peter Vanderveen
Jesus wasn’t big on elaboration. Or, at least, those who recorded some semblance of his wandering years in the gospels didn’t feel it was necessary to belabor many points. I would have liked it if they had. It might have prevented a lot of mischief and misguidance, especially around the use of a term like “following” Jesus. In what way? To where?
I don’t know anyone who would seriously debate whether “following” is an essential part of the Christian faith. But, that said, I also don’t know, within any kind of disciplined parameters, what is actually being asked of the faithful. “Following” is a word that’s rather loosely bandied about. And consequently, Jesus becomes a kind of Ken doll who we dress in various clothes and costumes according to how we think we ought to follow him: now he’s doing this, and then he’s doing that, and, in keeping with the charge he gave to follow, we feel obligated to do the same.
Pick almost any favorite episode in the gospels and you could apply this rule: e.g. feeding the hungry, relating openly with those in the underclass, challenging the hubris of the authorities. Following Jesus in these respects seems to fall right into the order of our own lives. And yet, there are many things that Jesus did that we wouldn’t presume to attempt ourselves. How about healing the sick with only a word? Or, even more audaciously, forgiving sins without demanding something in return? Or let’s get pragmatic: does following Jesus demand of us that we live as itinerants without giving any thought whatsoever to getting an education and pursuing a profession and buying a home and settling down within a family, perhaps having children? None of this fits the gospel patterns.
Or is Jesus in this passage from John specifically declaring that his disciples should be willing to follow him all the way to the tomb, “hating their lives?” Some would say yes. But we should be careful about the implications we might too blithely draw. I’m not at all convinced that Jesus himself hated his life in this world. There’s no evidence for this. And contrary to Jesus’ words here, he expressly forbade his disciples to fight for him when he was arrested in the garden of Gethsemane. Nor did he look for them to sacrifice themselves for his sake at his trial or crucifixion.
Following isn’t simply imitating; it requires continual discernment. I have come to think of the “following” we are asked to do as similar to the following that’s done in ballroom dancing. Someone leads. The other follows. It’s a beautiful exercise of being mutually attentive, not just to the proscribed steps but to everything one’s partner does with subtle intimacy – a sway, a lean, a twist, a pause, a pull, always moving not just to the music but to what the music evokes in the moment, from moment to moment. Dance is both intense and lively.
Several times in John’s gospel Jesus described the fullness of God’s promise in these words: “where I am, there you will be.” This is a succinct definition of dance – this proximity in action – where nothing is taken for granted and every nuance adds to the expression. Dancing at its best demands a kind of faithfulness; and, just so, faithfulness at its best is our willingness to dance.
Prayer
Where should we turn, if not to you, Lord Jesus Christ? Where might the sufferer find consolation, if not in you? And where the penitent, if not with you, Lord Jesus Christ?
Søren Kierkegaard
|