On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread,
the disciples approached Jesus and said,
"Where do you want us to preparefor you to eat the Passover?"
The gospel readings of this Tuesday and Wednesday recall Judas Iscariot's betrayal, a scandalous and very painful memory for the early church -- and for us to this day. How is it possible that someone who stayed with the Lord so long and so closely would betray him? Was he a traitor from the start, a "mole" imbedded by Jesus enemies? Did he believe in the Messiah at first and become disenchanted? Did something happen in his family or personal life that overwhelmed his faith? Did Jesus ask too much of him?
But, of course, the harrowing question is, "Will I become a Judas and betray the Lord?" That is why the Church places the readings during Holy Week. We must consider our fidelity and frailty.
As we often find in the Gospels, Matthew uses a "sandwich" to highlight an important teaching. In today's gospel Jesus's instruction about preparing the Passover meal is placed between two passages about Judas. We can understand this Passover, this "Last Supper," only within an awareness of infidelity and betrayal.
Like so many revelations in Jesus' life -- his royal birth in poverty, his entourage of illiterates, his crown of thorns -- the "First Mass" is set against the foil of betrayal and apostasy. The light shines brightest in deep darkness. We would not know the Messiah if he appeared to us in the tinselled glitter of this world's splendor.
As the director of retreats in Minnesota, on many Saturday evenings, I conducted a Eucharistic Devotion service. After a song, readings and brief homily, I asked the congregation to sit with me for 30 minutes in complete silence. Then I took my position in front of the chapel, sitting on my prayer bench, with eyes closed and hands resting. To all appearances I was praying.
Was I praying? Or was I just ruminating idly? Did I consecrate each breath and each thought to the Lord? Or did I want only to impress the retreatants with my fervor?
I don't know. God knows. It's not for me to judge. I know only that my mind often drifted, that sometimes it reviewed movies I had seen and books I had read, that sometimes it stewed about disappointments and resentments, and sometimes it found its way back into prayer. I hope that I was preparing then, as I should be today, for That Day when I am tested as Judas was tested.
And I hope that I do no worse than Peter and the other disciples who, seeing Jesus arrested, fled into the night.
Outward appearances can be deceiving. Actions speak louder than words. God knows what goes on inside the mind and heart. Jesus is present there.
ReplyDeleteI remember as a child on the farm, in spring time Dad would plow and harrow the ground for planting. This Lent certainly has been a turning over and refining of my soul. How much of me is like Judas? How much of me will be faithful follower like his mother, Mary? In that defining moment, I hope I am together enough to stand my ground and follow the Lord.
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