Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 120

I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!
There is a baptism with which I must be baptized,
and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished!

The Synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke – agree that, as they approached Jerusalem, Jesus three times prophesied his arrest, trial, torture, and crucifixion upon their arrival in the Holy City. Saint John’s Gospel uses a different expression, but like the Synoptics, the grim prophecy was made three times: he would be lifted up on a cross. 

He made these predictions without regret or sadness; he was not afraid; and showed no fear. If anything, he was eager; and on this occasion he complained of the anguish he felt until it was accomplished. But his disciples could not understand what he was talking about. It sounded like nonsense.Why would any free, healthy man with power to heal thousands of people and supported by tens of thousands go willingly and directly to his own suffering and death? It must be poetry, or something. 

But, despite his strange talk, they did not abandon the Lord. He had called them for a purpose, and if he talked crazy and they could not make sense of it, they trusted him anyway, and went with him to the Holy City of Jerusalem. 

In today’s gospel he speaks of the baptism he will endure; and we understand that he is speaking of his death. He says he is in anguish until it is accomplished. He can hardly wait! Saint Luke also tells us that, on the evening before he died, “When the hour came, he took his place at table with the apostles. He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer, for, I tell you, I shall not eat it [again] until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”

We Catholics understand better than anyone that Jesus’ Last Supper and the Mass are intensely, intimately connected. They mean nothing without each. They are one and the same thing. There can be no crucifixion, death, and resurrection without that Passover meal, the Last Supper. Nor can we “Do this in memory” of Him unless he was martyred on the cross and raised up on Easter Sunday. 

In fact, if he must die on the cross, we must celebrate this mass. If we don’t; if we fail; his cross has failed; and his life means nothing. 

Jesus knew that so long as we did this in memory of him, we would not forget him, what he did, or that he had come from the Father. We would never forget that he was a human being and the Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary; and that he had died and been raised from the dead, and now sits at the right hand of the Father.  

We know this because we are doing as he insisted; we are eating his flesh and drinking his blood. We are sacrificing Jesus as he sacrificed himself by our eating and drinking with him. This cannot be bread; it must be his flesh. This cannot be wine; it is his blood. 

And we too are being sacrificed with him because his body is ours and we are his body. Our lives with all of our resources – our strength, our health, our families and loved ones, our work, careers, and professions, our flesh and blood, our faith, hope, and love, even our pride, envy, anger, and all our sins – we surrender everything to the Lord when we celebrate this Mass. 

Is it any wonder so many Christians prefer a harmless prayer service, with exciting music and lively entertainment? Those ceremonies make you feel good, and they don’t cost nearly so much. You don’t have to admit you have sinned; you don’t have to say I am sorry; you don’t have to say I forgive my enemies and everyone who ever hurt me. You can go home saying, “That was fun!” instead of, “Wow, what just happened?” or “What have I got myself into?”  

But this Mass is a baptism and we feel his anguish – and ours – until it is over. 

And we also have seriously mixed feelings about its coming. We pray every day and many times a day, “...thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” We have seen Satan and all his demons, along with all the wicked people of this world, from corrupt politicians to adulterers and murderers, evicted from heaven, and cast down to the Earth. The world is polluted by Satan’s kingdom of corruption and we wish it would end soon. 

But we also pray, “Lead us not into temptation!” We’re not yet ready for the trials which Baptism and the Mass signify. We are not eager for wars; and rumors of war only frighten us. Like Jeremiah in the bottom of a flooded pit, we pray, “Lord, come to my aid.” 

The Lord called us; we are the elect. And he has warned us that when the trial comes, even the elect will be tested and sorely tried, and many will turn away from the Lord. There will always be traitors and anti-Christs among us; they will be lost. They will refuse to eat his flesh, drink his blood, and do this in memory of him. 

Like His apostles, we’re going to Jerusalem. We hear his predictions of the coming tribulation, but we cannot leave him. He has called us; he is our God; and we are his people, the sheep of his flock. Where else can we go? He has the words of everlasting life.