Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

The spillway at MSF after a heavy rain

Lectionary: 292

...because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts.
But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go.
For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you.
But if I go, I will send him to you.

When the Lord rose from the dead, his intent was not to prove there is an afterlife, or even that his goodness has triumphed over sin and death. His mission was to send his disciples on a mission to the farthest corners of the world. They should announce the Good News of God's kingdom, of his sovereignty over sin and death. They should demonstrate the freedom and joy of the gospel: a freedom which cannot be chained or imprisoned, and a joy which knows no fear. 

They should not grieve over his absence. And, remarkably, we find in the New Testament no nostalgia for the good old days when Jesus walked on water and fed the five thousand. Neither the eye witnesses of the gospel nor the second generation missionaries like Saint Paul expressed any regret about a missed opportunity. They had the testimony of the Spirit, and the Word of God, and that was proof enough for them. 

The Sacraments, especially the Eucharist, restore daily that newness and freshness. As we break the bread and drink the cup we know the Lord is present. Our conviction is sure and our mission is clear. Any Christian who hears the old spiritual question, "Were you there when they crucified my Lord," answers with complete confidence and utter simplicity of heart, "I was there; we were there. I remember; we have not forgotten." 

We know grief. We know its weight and depth and solid reality. But our faith enables us to engage and express our grief, for we know that we shall rise again after we have been enfeebled and prostrate. Without that hope-filled expectation, we might not let ourselves fall low enough to know real grief. That sadness never goes away. Whether we're grieving the loss of a loved one, the crucifixion of Jesus, or the harm our sins have done, we don't expect it to disappear. Rather, we learn to live with it and rejoice above it. Sad and dark memories are illuminated by hope, especially as we find comfort in the company of loved ones. Regret becomes wisdom when we share our stories and others find inspiration in them. 

Jesus describes that wisdom as an advocate who witnesses on our behalf before the Eternal Judge. Although God knows our sins and his judgments are severe, the Advocate speaks for us. He testifies to our innocence restored, and the merit of our good deeds. They have not only atoned for the past; they have integrated the horror of our sins into the gladness of a Gospel story. Just as no gospel is true without a crucifixion, so our lives have no meaning until our sins have been acknowledged, confessed, and atoned. As the ancient Fathers of the Church testify, there is no shadow in the cross. 

The Church ponders the Acts of the Apostles throughout the fifty days from Easter to Pentecost. We remember the courage, joy, and wisdom of the Apostolic Church, and pray that our faithful witness will be as radiant as theirs.