Saturday, March 28, 2020

Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent


Lectionary: 249

I knew their plot because the LORD informed me; at that time you, O LORD, showed me their doings.


Saint John's Gospel describes enormous tension; a powerful drama is working itself out. The listening congregation knows from the outset what must happen. The gospel was written to be read aloud to an assembly of baptized, devout Christians. We know that Jesus will be crucified and raised up as we hear about the crowd, the guards, the Pharisees and Nicodemus. These characters will play their parts in the drama but none will change the outcome.
John has all the drama of a "Moscow trial;" everyone knows the end before it begins. If the Communists intended to prove the futility of opposition, the Crucifixion will reveal the mercy of God. That is the brilliant irony of the Gospel. At the heart of this relentless violence the faithful see the goodness of God. Today's citation from Jeremiah alludes to this certain knowledge, "I knew their plot because the Lord informed me."
Jesus is surrounded by a crowd of accusers who are absolutely convinced they are doing the right thing. They have the backing of civil, religious, and popular authorities. If their faces betray nothing but cruel intent, they nonetheless go about this savage business with joyous zeal. Heaven, it seems, has blessed their enterprize. They can treat this man with all of the anger and unrestrained vindictiveness they have ever felt against anyone. Were you ever angry with your child, brother, sister, mother, or father? Did you want to hurt them physically or verbally? You can release that violence on this Galilean. You have God's go-ahead.
Jesus does not try to appeal to their better natures. He is silent, "like a trusting lamb led to slaughter." During his long pilgrimage to Jerusalem he had predicted the outcome. He had contemplated the horror and surrendered to God's plan as it became manifest. 

Most patients who enter the VA hospital, recover at least some of their health and go home. Some die there. The chaplain visits with the dying patients and their families. Those in hospice have usually surrendered to their fate. But some in ICU don't see it coming. The patient, the family, or both may deny the inevitability of death. 
"Not now!" they say. "Not today, not yet!" 
Some are kept alive with "life support" until the family is ready. Sometimes individuals must arrive from a great distance to say their goodbyes. Some have a futile hope the dying person might finally say, "I love you!" or "I am sorry." In my experience, if they never said it in the good time, they'll never say in the bad. 
The Lord by his crucifixion has made death like everything else that is human, a blessing. When the time comes we learn to welcome it. We all have experience of losing precious things; even things like loved ones, home, and health. The dark experience, as painful as it was, proved itself to be a blessing. 
As Jesus did not expect to find kindness in the faces of his tormentors, we surrender to the life that leads to death. It is a gospel life of sacrifice, generosity, obedience, and courage. It is neither easy nor supposed to be easy. But it is good. God has made it so; it is a blessing in our eyes.

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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.