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Makes me wonder
If you spend anytime on your computer doing anyone of a variety of what today are mundane tasks, the internet (the amorphous “they” or sometimes, “them”) begins to know you, develop an algorithm about you and send you advertisements, promotions, and the like. Perhaps these things reflect you browser history and interests. Perhaps smart home devices like Alexa and Siri have been listening. Or maybe the random flotsam and jetsam of digital lives have finally been stitched together to reveal our deep identity, hidden desires, or better yet – our secret identities: mild mannered photojournalist novice Peter Parker by day and your friendly neighborhood Spider Man by night. Hard to say, difficult to know.
Why such musings? Well…. I have no idea why this morning I received this promotional email:
Unless there was some part of being a Franciscan and a parish priest about which I was not informed, I am not sure why I would be a prospective customer. Clearly I can not afford to purchase or lease such an aircraft – or pay the insurance, the fuel cost, the pilot or hanger fees. But just maybe I could “flexjet” off to my next meeting. Of course, my next meeting is at the parish approximately 0.25 miles through the woods… and I rather enjoy the walk.
I have to go to St. Louis in July for a gather of friars. I wonder if I could “flexjet” and hopscotch regional airports between here and St. Louis picking up friars to ride-share. There are a good number of friars here in the broader Washington DC area, Cincinnati (original settlement named Losantiville, in case you were wondering – now named after a dictator of the early Roman Empire – but that is besides the point… lots of friars live nearby)… I wonder if the Chicago area friars want in on the ride. Of course I would have to actually click the “Learn more” button to find out pricing… and that would add to “them” knowing more about me.
I have a good friend who works for an organization that has more than one private jet in their hangers. In chatting I have mentioned that it would be nice if they could “pick me up” on their way and drop me off. I don’t think I am being taken seriously. But it raises the possibility that “they” are monitoring my cell phone and have picked up the chatter that “flexjet” might be just the thing I need. I know that federal agencies can monitor “metadata” on calls, but I am not sure they could extract my “flexjet” needs or desires…perhaps a wiretap? That would explain a lot of things…but then that would also assume I am actually interesting enough to wiretap. I am sure that if I gave it a go I could weave any number of conspiracy plots that include private, next-level, jet service to some exotic destination. Sorry, St. Louis. A great American city I am sure… gateway to the west and all that, but Montevideo sounds more exotic. And I have been to St. Louis; never been to Montevideo. I would love to revisit New Zealand…
Of course it could all be random…like radioactive decay at the quantum level. You know true randomness is simply because we lack the right tools or information. It is fundamentally uncaused and unpredictable. Like the “flexjet” promotion in the inbox of a Franciscan friar.
By this point, you might be thinking, “where is all this going?” Most likely answer: nowhere. But then again you are reading a blog with “musings” in the title…just saying..
What They Don’t Tell You About Getting Old
Today is my birthday and someone sent me this in anticipation of the years a decade ahead. I don’t know the source and online research did not reveal any clues, so credit to Roger Rosenblatt, the author.
I recently turned 83, and while there are many joys to getting older, getting out of taxis is not one of them.
What you don’t want to do is get your left foot caught under the front right seat before you try to swing your right foot toward the door; otherwise, you’ll topple over while attempting to pay the fare, possibly injuring your ankle, and causing the maneuver to go even more slowly. If you make it past the taxi door, there is still the one-foot jump to the street. You’re old. You could fall. Happens all the time.
And that’s when it’s just you in the taxi. If some other old person is with you — a friend, a spouse — there’s a real possibility of never getting out of the vehicle. You might live out the rest of your days in the back seat, watching Dick Cavett do real estate ads on a loop.
“Old People Getting Out of Taxis.” I was thinking of making a film with that title, if I knew how to make a film. Figure it would run four hours. I asked an actor friend, also old, if he’d star in it. His response: “If I can get out of my chair.”
It’s no joke, old age. It just looks funny. Mel Brooks latched on to this in his 1977 film “High Anxiety” with Professor Lilloman (pronounced “little old man”), a stock character who moves at a turtle’s pace, mumbles and whines as he goes, equally irritated and irritating.
I used to find the professor a lot funnier than I do now. Slow? Merely to rise to my feet in a restaurant takes so much angling and fulcrum searching, the waitstaff takes bets on whether I will do it at all.
Old age isn’t what the books promised it would be. Literature is littered with old people for whom the years have brought some combination of wisdom, serenity, authority and power — King Lear, the ageless priest in Shangri-La, Miss Marple, Mr. Chips, Mrs. Chips (I made that up), Dickens’s Aged P, crazy Mrs. Danvers. In fiction, old folks are usually impressive and in control. In life, something less.
I can’t think of anyone who has come to me for wisdom, serenity, authority or power. People do come to sell me life insurance for $9 a month and medicines such as Prevagen, which is advertised on TV as making one sharper and improving one’s memory. Of course, that is beneficial only to those who have more things they wish to remember than to forget.
One thing I need to remember is which day for which doctor. Two years ago, my wife and I moved back to New York City after 24 years of living by the sea. The city is safer, we thought — just in case we may ever need to be near medical facilities. Since our move, not a day has passed without one of us seeing a doctor, arranging to see one or thinking or talking about seeing one.
One day last week, I had a vascular sonogram in the morning, consulted my ophthalmologist in the afternoon, made an appointment with a retina specialist, spoke to my primary care physician about test results and put off my dentist. As a result of such activities, my vocabulary has increased. I now can say “occlusion” — and mean it. Has anyone seen my oximeter?
Activities such as getting out of a taxi are not only degrading and humiliating; they take so much effort, they simply make you tired. You may reasonably say, “Why not take the subway?” I would, except for the two hours needed to get up and down the stairs. Still, it’s all a matter of adjustment. It took me three or four years of taxi rides to finally admit to myself that I’m old.
Old. Even the word sounds like a sigh of surrender.
I wrote a book called “Rules for Aging” 25 years ago, when I used to leap in and out of taxis like a deer, if you can picture such a thing. The rules were less about aging than about living generally, one of the first being “Nobody’s thinking about you.”
In old age that’s true in spades. And that’s another of aging’s unnerving surprises. You disappear from the culture, or rather, it disappears from you. Young women and men shown on TV as world famous, you’ve never heard of. New idioms leave you baffled. You are Rip Van Winkle without having fallen asleep.
To be sure, old age has compensations. Grandchildren. Their company is delightful, partly because they think you have something useful to impart, if you could remember to impart it. Waitresses tend to treat you sweetly. Doormen and maintenance crews show respect. And there are positive or harmless activities for the over the hill. Women take up watercolors and form book clubs. Men find loud if pointless camaraderie in diners and on village benches all over the country. Hey, old-timer.
While here in the city, we hail taxis. And cringe to see whether the one we have hailed is a normal car, for normal people, or one of those sliding, clanging door jobs that require a forklift for entry. I’m not exaggerating — much.
My point is: Who ever expected to spend time wondering if Madison Beer is a beverage honoring a founding father? Who ever expected that one’s social circle would consist of Marie, who does blood work, and an M.R.I. technician named Lou? Who ever expected that getting out of a taxi would be so momentous an issue that one is a bundle of nerves planning exit strategies halfway through the ride? Who ever expected old age?
Image credit: Jelena Stanojkovic. | iStock photo ID:1716794244 | Standard iStock license | downloaded May 4, 2026
Whose sins you forgive
This coming Sunday is Pentecost with the gospel reading taken from the Gospel of John. Many scholars see a parallel between John 20:23 and Matthew 18:18: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” The parallel becomes clearer when we know that the words “forgive” in John 20:23 are the Greek words aphiēmi and krateō which mean “send away” and “hold” respectively [EDNT 2:314]. But even with the parallels aside, the meaning, extent and exercise of the Matthean and Johannine powers has been a source of division with the post-Reformation Christian community.
The Council of Trent rejected the proposal that this power to forgive sins was offered to each of Christ’s faithful – something one often sees in commentaries from a Reformed perspective. The Catholic Church has always held that the power to forgive sin was to be understood as that ministry to which the ordained minister was called; something it had maintained as the teaching of the church and only formally declared at Trent when it was challenged by the Reformers. As Fr. Brown notes [1041] this is not a debate that can be settled solely on exegetical grounds – nor does the Catholic Church propose such a solution. The Church looks to Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition.
The Church has also looked at Jesus’ own action toward sin as expressed in John. In 9:39-41 Jesus says that he came into the world for judgment; to enable some to see and to cause blindness for others. Deliberate blindness means remaining in sin; and, implicitly, willingness to see results in being delivered from sin.” [Brown, 1042] So as Jesus was sent into the world, so too the apostles and their successors to exercise discriminating judgment between good and evil. This idea of the apostles as agents of discriminating judgment is reinforced by the idea that the Advocate/paraclete is working through the apostles as an avenue of the outpouring of the Spirit that cleanses people and begets within them new life. All-in-all this passage is a declaratory statement that the core of Jesus’ ministry, forgiveness of sin and the restoration of right relationship, continues within the community generally, but in specific sacramental ministries in the particular sense.
This gospel passage makes clear that there is a strong relationship between the Resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit – and Jesus’ gift of the Holy Spirit points to the Resurrection as the start, the source and the reason for mission. As Jesus has been sent, so too are we sent on mission. Those are the final words of the celebration of the Mass: Ita misa est – Go! [the church] is mission!
Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobash, pravolavie.ru, CC BY-SA
Papal Encyclical and Memorial Day
On Monday, May 25th, our Nation celebrates Memorial Day. On that same day the Vatican will release Pope Leo’s first encyclical.
Lots of people confuse Memorial Day or conflate it with Veteran’s Day. It is the latter which honors all the men and women who have served our nation in the military. It is the former that remembers and honors all those who have died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. It is a difference of which I receive weekly reminders as I am honored to serve veteran families during the internment of their loved ones at Quantico National Cemetery.
Lots of people are confused about papal encyclicals. While primarily addressed to the Church’s bishops, modern encyclicals are published globally to guide the faithful and address societal issues. They are a powerful expression of the pope’s “ordinary magisterium” (everyday teaching authority). While highly authoritative and significant, they do not inherently constitute “infallible” (ex-cathedra) statements.
The title of the Encyclical is Magnifica Humanitas (“Magnificent Humanity”). A major theme of the document will be to reaffirm values, to ensure that we don’t lose values and sight of the fundamental dignity of people in the face of technology. I understand that some part of the encyclical will address Artificial Intelligence. It will be interesting to see his teaching on how this technology impact the dignity of people.
Receive the Holy Spirit
This coming Sunday is Pentecost with the gospel reading taken from the Gospel of John. John 20:21–22 form a key passage in Johannine theology. The disciples receive the Holy Spirit at this second coming of Jesus: the eschaton, the final era, is now; future is present. In 7:39, the Spirit had not yet been given, since Jesus was not yet glorified. On the cross, Jesus, manifesting the nature of God, which is love, delivers over the Spirit (19:30), symbolized immediately afterward by the flow of the sacramental symbols of blood and water. And now, at his first encounter with the believing community, he breathes the Spirit again as he celebrates the re-creation of God’s people.
Simultaneously, he sends out these disciples just as the Father had sent him (v. 21). His mission becomes theirs; his work is placed in their hands. And that mission, that work, is to manifest God who is love in their words and deeds. Through them now, enlivened by the Spirit, will the presence of God become known and seen and felt in the world.
Although the text does not use parakletos, there is unanimity among commentators that the Holy Spirit is the Advocate promised in the Farewell Discourse of the Fourth Gospel. That discourse had outlined the role the Advocate/Holy Spirit would play in relation to the disciples. The Holy Spirit will:
- be recognized by the disciples (14:17)
- teach the disciples everything (14:26)
- guide the disciples along the way of all truth (16:13)
- take what belongs to the Jesus and declare it to the disciples (16:14)
- glorify Jesus (16:14)
- bear witness to Jesus in order that the disciples will also bear witness to Jesus (15:26-27)
- remind the disciples of all that Jesus told them (14:26)
Fr. Raymond Brown nuances these promises in that the parakletos describes that aspect of the Holy Spirit which is specifically concerned with witness so that a believer is assured of all the power needed to be witness. Brown [1139-43] makes a case that the full power of the Holy Spirit manifests in other ways not connected to the witness of the person/community – e.g. baptismal regeneration, sacramental forgiveness of sins, and gifts that build up the community.
Thus Jesus’ words about sending his disciples as the Father sent him applied immediately to the apostles both with respect to Christian mission and to them in their specific roles/gifts within the church. It is in Baptism that all believers are privileged to share in this Mission in so far as they all are recipients of the Spirit whom he bequeathed to his disciples (see 20:22). With the particular enabling that Spirit provides, each plays a part in continuing the work and witness of Jesus. What is clear in text such as 1 Cor 12:3-12 (the second reading on Pentecost Sunday, Year A) – to one a particular gift is given, to another, another gift – all from the same spirit.
Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobash, pravolavie.ru, CC BY-SA
Why do you call me good?
The New Testament is a collection of texts written by various authors over decades, and it naturally contains diverse portrayals of Jesus. Several passages show Jesus expressing human limitations, ignorance, or subservience to God, prompting questions about his precise identity and nature. For example, “Jesus answered him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” (Mark 10:18) When a young man addresses him as “Good Teacher,” Jesus appears to distance himself from the title, suggesting an absolute separation between himself and the pure, unmatched goodness of God.
The verse from Gospel of Mark 10:18 has long attracted attention because, at first glance, Jesus Christ seems to reject being called “good”. Some have wondered whether Jesus is denying his divinity or distancing himself from the goodness that belongs uniquely to God. But the Early Church Fathers overwhelmingly understood the passage differently. Rather than denying his divinity, they saw Jesus drawing the young man deeper into recognizing who Jesus truly is.
The verse from Gospel of Mark 10:18 has long attracted attention because, at first glance, Jesus Christ seems to reject being called “good”. Some readers have wondered whether Jesus is denying his divinity or distancing himself from the goodness that belongs uniquely to God. But the Early Church Fathers overwhelmingly understood the passage differently. Rather than denying his divinity, they saw Jesus drawing the young man deeper into recognizing who Jesus truly is. Their interpretations generally moved along several connected lines.
An Instruction on Recognition of Divinity.
Many of the Early Church Fathers contended that Jesus was not issuing a disclaimer regarding his goodness, but was instead posing a transformative question: “If you call me good, do you understand what that means?” The challenge lies not in the terminology, but in whether the young man grasped the profound reality that calling Jesus “good” necessitated a recognition of his divine nature.
St. Augustine posited that Christ was examining the depth of the man’s perception: If absolute goodness is the exclusive domain of God, and if Jesus is indeed truly good, it follows that the man must acknowledge Jesus as more than a mere human instructor. In this view, Christ does not relinquish his claim to goodness; rather, he redirects the man from a superficial courtesy toward a substantive confession of faith. For Augustine, the verse functions as an invitation to see the divine excellence present in the person of Christ.
Distinguishing Flattery from Truth. Other Patristic authors suggested that Jesus was correcting a casual or shallow use of language. John Chrysostom noted that the young ruler approached Jesus as a respected rabbi rather than the Son of God. Consequently, Jesus questions his use of language: Why use divine language without understanding its depth? Rather than denying his own goodness, Jesus exposes the superficiality of the young man’s faith, critiquing praise that is divorced from true discipleship.
Absolute Goodness vs. Participating in Goodness. The Fathers frequently employed a distinction regarding the nature of goodness: God exists as goodness itself in its absolute form, while all created beings possess goodness only by participation. Origen clarified that only God is good in an uncreated sense. While humans share in this goodness, the statement “No one is good but God alone” identifies the ultimate source. Because the Fathers held Christ to be divine, they did not see this as an exclusion. Instead, as the eternal Son, Christ shares fully in the Father’s essential goodness.
The Defense of Christological Doctrine
Passages that critics used to question Christ’s status were often reclaimed by the Fathers as evidence of his divinity. During the fourth-century Arian controversies, Athanasius of Alexandria argued that if Christ were merely a creature, he could not possess the fullness of divine goodness. Since the New Testament portrays Christ as sinless and holy, the Fathers interpreted Mark 10:18 as a pedagogical tool meant to elicit theological insight rather than a denial of his nature.
The Role of Humility
Another strand of interpretation emphasized the humility inherent in Christ’s human manifestation. Gregory the Great observed that Jesus often spoke in a manner appropriate to his humanity, modeling humility by directing ultimate glory toward the Father while refusing superficial honors.
Conclusion: A Socratic Challenge
The Fathers viewed this verse through the lens of the entire Gospel narrative rather than in isolation. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus performs acts reserved for God: forgiving sins, accepting worship, and claiming unity with the Father. The Fathers thus concluded that Jesus was not disavowing his goodness, but asking a nearly Socratic question: “Do you understand what you are saying when you call me good?”
This passage remains vital as it challenges believers to move beyond a purely sentimental or moralistic admiration of Jesus. While it is simple to regard him as a moral instructor, an inspiring figure, or a “good person,” the Gospels continually press the deeper question of his identity. For the Church Fathers, Mark 10:18 is not a withdrawal from divinity, but a gentle leading of the hearer toward it.
As the Father has sent me, so I send you
This coming Sunday is Pentecost with the gospel reading taken from the Gospel of John. The Fourth Gospel speaks often of Jesus being sent into the world by the Father: to do his will (6:38–39; 8:29), to speak his words (3:34; 8:28; 12:49; 14:24; 17:8), to perform his works (4:34; 5:36; 9:4) and win salvation for all who believe (3:16–17). That the disciples were sent to continue the words and works of Jesus is foreshadowed at various places in the Gospel.
Jesus urged them to lift up their eyes and see fields ripe for harvest, and told them he had sent them to reap where others had labored (4:35–38), he said those who believed in him would do the works he had done and greater works than these because he was returning to the Father (14:12); he told them, “I … chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you” (15:16), saying that when the Paraclete comes “he will testify to me. And you also testify, because you have been with me from the beginning” (15:26–27), and when he prayed for his disciples he said to the Father, “As you sent me into the world, so I sent them into the world” (17:18). This last text, which parallels 20:21, confirms that the sending of the disciples was ‘into the world’, i.e. with a mission to the world. The other texts reveal the essential content of their mission was to ‘harvest’ men and women for the kingdom by their witness to Jesus by word and deed, alongside the ongoing witness of the Spirit.
We are sent just as Jesus was sent – How and in what manner was Jesus, the Word of God, sent into the world? A great deal of our understanding of the Jewish theological interpretation of the Old Testament comes from original writings of the Hebrew scholars. The Old Testament was originally recorded in Hebrew and then translated (with interpretative embellishment) in Aramaic – known as the Targumin. For example:
- Isaiah 52:13 (Hebrew) “See, my servant shall prosper..”
- Isaiah 52:13 (Targumin) “See, my servant the Messiah shall prosper..”
In fact many of the OT citations in John are taken from the Targumins.
In Jewish understanding, the memra – Aramaic for the Word (dabar in Hebrew) -had several characteristics. It means more than “spoken word”; it also means “thing”, “affair”, “event”, and “action”. Because it covers both word and deed, in Hebrew thought, dabar had a certain dynamic energy and power of its own. When connected to Yahweh it took on the divine. Its energy and power were from God. The Targuminic reflections on memra (Targum Onkelos) offers some insight into the meaning of the Word in Jewish thinking:
The memra was highly personified (e.g., Isaiah 9:8, 45:23, 55:10; Psalm 147:15)
When the word of God came to a particular prophet (Hos 1:1; Joel 1:1) it challenged the prophet to accept the word; when he accepted it it impelled him to go forth and give it to others and it became the word that judged men.
The memra was a means of making a covenant (e.g., Genesis 15:1; Exodus 34:10).
The word was is described in the OT as a light for men (Ps 154:105, 103)
The memra was life-giving (e.g., Dt 32:46-47)
For the Psalmist the memra has the power to heal people (e.g., Ps 107:20)
Salvation was by means of the memra (e.g., Wis 16:26)
The revelation of God to his people came through the memra as His agent (e.g., Genesis 15:1; Ezekiel 1:3)
The memra was an agent of creation (e.g, Psalm 33:6; Is 55:10-11; Ws 9:1). In Is 40:11 God says, “So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty. Rather it shall accomplish what I want and prosper in the things for which I sent it.”
The memra was bearer of the judgment of God (Wis 18:15; Hab 3:5)
The memra was the agent of the theophany, or visible manifestations of God’s presence (Gen 3:2). John uses this thought (Jn 1:14) in the use of the term “dwelling”, which loses something in the translation. The Greek literally reads “pitched his tent/tabernacle”, describing the place of God’s presence among His chosen people. The Greek word for dwelling uses the same/near equivalent consonance sounds as the Aramaic work, Shekinah, meaning theophany.
From the opening Prologue of John we see the portrait of Jesus as the fulfillment of all of these Targuminic themes. Jesus is personified (vv. 1-2), the agent of God and creation (v.3), the life-giver (v.4), the source of life and knowledge (vv.4-5), the maker of covenants (v.12), the means of salvation (v.16), the same as God and different (God and human natures), and the visible presence of God on earth.
The short answer to the question “How was Jesus sent in order that we be sent?” Is to be “memra” for others in your life.
Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobash, pravolavie.ru, CC BY-SA
Wolves, the Flock and Hope
Many Catholics today look at the Church with a mixture of love, concern, frustration, and hope. We see division, confusion, declining participation in some places, scandals that continue to wound trust, and a culture that often seems increasingly distant from faith. In such a moment, the words proclaimed in the daily Mass from Acts of the Apostles and Gospel of John speak with surprising force and relevance.
Saint Paul the Apostle warns the leaders of the early Church: “I know that after my departure savage wolves will come among you, and they will not spare the flock. And from your own group, men will come forward perverting the truth…” At first hearing, these words can sound discouraging. But Paul is not describing a failure unique to our own time. He is reminding us that from the very beginning the Church would face dangers both from outside and within. The early Christian community was never idealized as perfect or free from struggle. Even in the apostolic age there were conflicts, false teachings, betrayals, fear, ambition, and weakness. That realization can actually steady us. The Church’s present struggles, painful as they are, do not mean Christ has abandoned his people.
In the Gospel, Jesus Christ prays: “Holy Father, keep them in your name… that they may be one.” Before his Passion begins, Jesus already sees the fragility of his disciples. He knows they will scatter, misunderstand, and struggle. Yet he does not reject them. He entrusts them to the Father’s care. That prayer still echoes through the life of the Church today.
We live in an age of immense noise and confusion. Catholics can easily become drawn into ideological camps, online outrage, suspicion, or discouragement. Sometimes we begin to speak and act more from political identity or cultural fear than from the Gospel itself. Paul’s warning about those who distort truth remains relevant because every age faces temptations to reshape Christianity according to the spirit of the times or according to anger and division.
Jesus’ prayer reminds us that the Church is not sustained merely by human strength, strategy, or institutional success. The Church endures because Christ continues to pray for his people and the Holy Spirit continues to work within them. This does not mean ignoring the Church’s failures or pretending problems do not exist. The wounds are real. The need for reform, repentance, and accountability is real. But despair is not a Christian response. The answer to the Church’s crises has always been holiness.
Every age has had its “wolves”: falsehood, pride, corruption, fear, division, or compromise. And every age has also produced saints.Ordinary believers who remained faithful, prayerful, charitable, and courageous in difficult times. The challenge for Catholics today is not simply to complain about the darkness, but to become more deeply rooted in Christ through prayer, sacraments, truth spoken with charity, unity rather than factionalism, and through lives that quietly witness to hope.
The Church has always been both fragile and protected. Fragile because it is made up of human beings protected because it ultimately belongs to Christ. And that is why, even in uncertain times, Christians are called to move forward not with naïve optimism, but with hope.
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna – Appearance on the Mountain in Galilee | ca. 1310 | Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
Peace be with you
This coming Sunday is Pentecost with the gospel reading taken from the Gospel of John. While the first reading (Acts 2:1-11) describes the events we associate with Pentecost Sunday, the Gospel of John account tells of the appearance of Jesus following of the events that took place at the tomb in the early morning of the first day of the week (John 20:1–18). There near the empty tomb of Jesus, the risen Savior first appeared to Mary Magdalene. Our gospel contains the second and third appearances of the risen Jesus. These three appearances take place in Jerusalem. There is a fourth and final appearance of Jesus later in a section referred to as the “Epilogue” of John. This appearance is at the “Sea of Tiberias” in Galilee (John 21).
The people involved in the Johannine scene in the garden, despite the testimony of Mary Magdalene, are locked in a room for fear of the Jews (20:19). The proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection has not dispelled the fear. The “we” and “they” of v.2 are still active forces in the account. The disciples (we) have not overcome the fear that the Jewish leadership (they) have created throughout the Passion.
The Johannine account of the first post-resurrection appearance to the gathered disciples is linked to the events of the Resurrection by the simple expression “that first day.” As the startling and disturbing events of the last three days had unfolded the community’s overriding response was fear. They had gathered, but had locked themselves away out of fear of what persecutions the religious authorities might bring against them. It is into this complex of uncertainty, perhaps doubt and hesitation, that Jesus appears
“Peace be with you” is in some way a conventional greeting (cf. Rom 1:7; 1 Cor 1:3; 2 Cor 1:3; Gal 1:3) used by St Paul in his letters as a reflection of a standard option for the opening of a Greek letter. But here the greeting has an additional purpose – Jesus is fulfilling a promise from his Farewell Discourse: his gift of peace (John 14:27). The peace is given to a community who will experience the world’s opposition always and its persecution often. The gift of peace is an explicit reminder that their way in the world will be graced with the enduring promise of Christ.
The biblical idea of “peace” is complex, but peace is not simply the absence of war or hostilities. Peace is a positive notion in the biblical sense and has meaning of its own. At its root, the biblical idea of “peace” stems from the Hebrew šālôm which means to be hale, whole and complete [AYBD 5:2-6]. The Greek word eirene (peace) appears in almost every writing of the NT. It describes a relationship of goodwill between God and humans.
The Fourth Gospel affirms that peace is intimately related to Jesus himself. It is a gift related to the commission to forgive sins (20:19, 21, 26) and go forth in the power of the Holy Spirit, but also before his death he promises them: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” (14:27). The difference between the world’s peace and that of Jesus is not explained, but it has to do with John’s notion of the world (kosmos). “In the world you will have trouble. But take courage! I have conquered the world” (16:33). In Christ peace is available to them. The difference must not be drawn along philosophical lines, as if the peace of Christ “has nothing to do with the absence of warfare nor … with an end to psychological tension, nor with a sentimental feeling of well-being” (Brown, 653). Caesar’s peace enforced by violence is not the same as the peace of Christ which derives from his victory over evil through the absorption of suffering. The two are dramatically different ways of bringing peace.
Prior to his death, Jesus told his disciples they would all be scattered and abandon him (16:32). Jesus was alone before the high priest and eventually before Pilate as he was condemned to death. The disciples, and especially Peter who had denied him three times (18:17–18, 25–27), would have felt deeply ashamed that they had abandoned Jesus in his hour. Thus when Jesus appeared to them behind locked doors, his greeting of ‘Peace be with you!’ showed he was not holding their failures against them; rather, he was offering a restored relationship – that they remained in the goodwill of God.
“When he had said this, he showed them his hands and side.” By showing them the nail prints in his hands and the spear wound in his side Jesus removed any doubt they had that the one who stood before them in that locked room was Jesus crucified but now risen from the dead. He predicted that the disciples’ sorrow at his death would be turned to joy following his resurrection (16:20–22), and now “the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.”
Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobash, pravolavie.ru, CC BY-SA
The High Priestly Prayer
Over that last two weeks and more we have heard passages from the Gospel of John that together are known as the “Farewell Discourse.” The discourse covers four chapters and often seems to be repetitively redundant. Today’s gospel is known as the beginning of the “High Priestly Prayer” and our passage is worth considering in some detail. So perhaps this is more bible study than homily.
The prayer takes place at the end of the Last Supper discourse, just before Jesus goes to the Garden of Gethsemane and begins his Passion. In this prayer, Jesus speaks directly to the Father, allowing the disciples and the reader to hear the intimate relationship between the Son and the Father. It is theologically rich, but it is also deeply personal and pastoral. It is almost as if Jesus could have begun “Let us pray.” It is like the Collect of the Mass coming before the Sacrifice and the Eucharistic Prayer.
Jesus prays concerning his own glorification (vv. 1–5) “Father, the hour has come” (v. 1) The “hour” in John’s Gospel refers to the moment of Jesus’ Passion, Death, Resurrection, and glorification. Throughout this Gospel, Jesus repeatedly says his hour “has not yet come.” Now, at last, it has arrived. The striking thing is that Jesus speaks of the Cross not primarily as defeat, but as glory. The glory of God is revealed in Jesus’ obedience, his self-giving love, and the revelation of the Father’s mercy. In John’s Gospel, the Cross and glory are inseparable.
One of the most important verses in the Gospel appears here: “This is eternal life…” How would you finish the verse? What would be your answer to someone who asks “what is eternal life?” The verse continues: “…that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.”
Eternal life in John is not simply endless existence after death. To “know” in biblical language means far more than intellectual knowledge. During the Mass there is a wonderful prayer said by the priest as he prepares the Cup. As he pours the water into the wine, he prays: Through the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who came to share our humanity.” It is that prayer that through the grace of the Eucharist we may come to know God and ultimately somehow share in the divine life of the Trinity. To “know God” implies intimacy, trust, covenant, and communion. Eternal life is participation in the life of God through Christ – and it begins in the Eucharist.
The disciples and the Father (vv. 6–10) Jesus says: “I revealed your name to those whom you gave me.” In biblical thought, a person’s “name” represents the person’s identity and character. Jesus reveals who the Father truly is. Throughout the Gospel the Father is shown as loving, merciful, life-giving, faithful, and wants to save the world. The disciples have come to believe that Jesus was sent by the Father. Even though their understanding is incomplete, faith has begun.
Jesus also says: “They do not belong to the world”. In John, “the world” can mean humanity loved by God, but it can also refer to the system of unbelief and resistance to God. The disciples still live in the world physically, but their identity is now rooted in Christ. Their values and loyalties are changing. This becomes an important theme for Christian discipleship: being present in the world but not shaped entirely by its spirit.
Jesus prays for the protection and unity of the disciples (v. 11) Jesus prays: “Holy Father, keep them in your name… so that they may be one just as we are one.” Unity is one of the central themes of John 17. Jesus desires that his followers share in the communion that exists between the Father and the Son. This unity is not merely organizational or social. It is spiritual and rooted in divine love, truth, and shared mission. Jesus also prays for protection because the disciples are about to face fear, persecution, confusion, and the scandal of the Cross.
“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way, yet without sin. So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help” (Hebrew 4:14-16)
Here in this passage you see the Great High Priest begin his eternal work. Remain in communion with Him and offer up your prayers and petitions who knows us and prays for us.
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna – Appearance on the Mountain in Galilee | ca. 1310 | Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
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