What makes Jesus different.

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Gospel: Luke 7: 11-17

Jesus journeyed to a city called Nain,
and his disciples and a large crowd accompanied him.
As he drew near to the gate of the city,
a man who had died was being carried out,
the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.
A large crowd from the city was with her.
When the Lord saw her,
he was moved with pity for her and said to her,
“Do not weep.”
He stepped forward and touched the coffin;
at this the bearers halted,
and he said, “Young man, I tell you, arise!”
The dead man sat up and began to speak,
and Jesus gave him to his mother.
Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, exclaiming,
“A great prophet has arisen in our midst,”
and “God has visited his people.”
This report about him spread through the whole of Judea
and in all the surrounding region.

The Gospel of the Lord.

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Saint Luke was not an Apostle, nor did he ever meet Jesus. Luke was a Greek physician who heard about Jesus and investigated his life, two of his greatest sources being Saint Paul and Mary, whom Luke met in Jerusalem a few months after the crucifixion.

In many ways, being Greek and a physician defined Luke’s outlook on life. 

The Greeks believed that the gods were ultimately inconvincible or apathetic. If human pleas could sway the emotions of the gods, then, at least momentarily, we’d have power over them, making the gods as vulnerable as men.

Yet Luke was a man of compassion. If the gods were distant and deaf to our cries, then he would do what they would not; he would heal the sick, pushing back the inevitable clock of death.

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Thus, when he heard about Jesus, he was overcome. How could this itinerant preacher also perform miracles, even bring people – like the young man in today’s Gospel – back to life?

Jesus was either a prophet… or something greater. And, unlike the gods of Greece, Jesus was compassionate.

This is why the mercy of God is a signature theme in Luke’s Gospel. God is not only powerful; he also cares about his creation. In Christ, he suffers and dies for us.

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While today’s Gospel scene is truly miraculous, Luke encourages us to keep the bigger picture in mind.

Our hope is not grounded in the fact that a young man was brought back from death to physical life; rather, that Christ – who overcame death permanently – was moved with compassion at the sight of it.

May the same Christ who was raised from the dead have compassion on us, and bring us to life – not only in this world, but especially in the next, “where neither moth nor decay can destroy.”

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Image credits: (1) Learn Religions (2) Jan Verhas, The Raising of the Widow’s Son in Nain (3) Hope Lutheran Chapel

The place where Jesus died.

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Gospel: John 19:25 – 27

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother
and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas,
and Mary Magdalene.
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved
he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.”
Then he said to the disciple,
“Behold, your mother.”
And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

The Gospel of the Lord.

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When someone we love dies, we often return to their grave. On anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, or an otherwise ordinary day when the wave of grief suddenly sweeps over us, sending us back to that place where our beloved sleeps.

Graves allow us to mourn; to pray; even to hope.

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Today we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. 

We remember those three wrenching hours when Mary stood at the foot of her Son’s cross as he bled and died for us.

I wonder if Mary ever returned. 

In the early hours of the morning, while the residents of Jerusalem were sleeping, did Mary retrace her Son’s final steps? Did she ascend the slope of Golgotha, quietly closing her eyes to meditate as the memory of her Son’s crucifixion bled tears from her eyes?

Did she speak to him there? Did she whisper words of consolation? Did she pray for his return?

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As the sun rose and kissed the hills of Jerusalem, I wonder if Mary meditated on that first question God asked Adam and Eve shortly after the Fall, “Where are you?”

The same question Christ must’ve wondered as he gazed down that slope bedewed by his blood. With the exception of Mary, John, and a band of women, his disciples abandoned him, begging the question, “Where are you?”

The people he was dying to save – even his closest friends – were nowhere to be found. They remind us of the power of fear, and the fragility of human nature. 

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But they did return – not during the hour of our Lord’s Passion, but in time. Perhaps Peter and the others joined Mary on Golgotha months later in the wee hours of the morning, rewriting their stories, atoning for their sins.

Because this is what counts in the end – not whether or not we have failed. As Saint Paul says, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

What counts is whether or not we return.

May our Blessed Mother intercede for us, that we too would surrender our lives to the one who died on Golgotha, who has loved us and given himself for us. 

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.

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Image credits: (1) Aleteia (2) Crucifixion, Titian (3) Maritime Preacher, WordPress

God in Agony: The Relevance of the Cross Today.

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Gospel: John 3: 13-17

Jesus said to Nicodemus:
“No one has gone up to heaven
except the one who has come down from heaven, the Son of Man.
And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert,
so must the Son of Man be lifted up,
so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son,
so that everyone who believes in him might not perish
but might have eternal life.
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world,
but that the world might be saved through him.

The Gospel of the Lord.

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Anyone who enters our church is immediately confronted with the life-size crucifix suspended over the altar. 

What makes it unique is the fact that it’s been carved to scale; literally life-size, within a matter of pounds and inches of what Christ’s body would’ve been on the day he died on that horrible, sacred cross.

While seated in the pews, you can gaze upon him from the angle that John and Mary would’ve seen him. But if you come closer and stand near the altar where I celebrate Eucharist, then you can see Jesus in even greater detail.

His toenails; his teeth; the curl of his fingers; his dirt-stained knees; his lungs expanding as he breathes, praying, “Father, forgive them…. Why have you abandoned me?… Into your hands, I commend my spirit.” 

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Artists in every age have had to decide what to depict – and what not to depict – when sketching, painting, or carving a crucifix.

Should the Lord’s head be held high in defiance? Should it slope down to one side, burdened by the weight of the world? Are his eyes in agony? Do they portray confidence in his Father? Is he a victim? The victor? Is he both?

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Often the answer reflects the culture and experience of the local Church within a particular time and place.

The first known images of the crucifixion date back to the 5th century, when the Church was still young. Christians had endured several centuries of sporadic persecutions as earthly kings tried forcing them to bend the knee to civil power.

Many died refusing to do so. 

They proclaimed with their lives that Christ is their King. This is why Jesus was depicted on the cross wearing vestments – much like a priest at Mass – showing him to be their victorious high priest and king. 

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Centuries later, artists increasingly reflected upon on the humanity of Christ. Jesus was portrayed as the Suffering Servant. His body mangled in agony, crowned in thorns, serving as a reminder to Christians to serve the Lord in their neighbor, especially the poor.

In the Middle Ages, artists contemplated both the humanity and divinity of our Lord. Angels floated beneath his cross, collecting drops of his blood into precious chalices, as he hung higher than the thieves beside him.

In modern times, he has been depicted in nearly every color and ethnicity as people seek to connect him with their own lived experience.

In Asia, Jesus has been depicted as a sage with a drooping mustache; in Central America, a dark-skinned peasant farmer, hanging from a cross in his work clothes, abandoned in a field.

In Cameroon, artists have portrayed an ebony Christ crucified with just one leg – an ode to all of the children there who have either died or lost a limb after stepping on a landmine.

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Today we could imagine Jesus suspended over the 9/11 memorial in Manhattan.

Over a makeshift campus stage in Utah.

Over the altar of the Church of the Annunciation in Minneapolis.

Buried beneath the rubble of the only church in Gaza.

Or in an underground subway station turned temporary bomb shelter and school in Ukraine. 

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Throughout the centuries, artists have reflected on that question we sing every Good Friday: “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”

Were you there in the slums? Were you there in the trenches? Were you there in Manhattan, Utah, or at Mass in Minneapolis?

But all of us must wrestle with the mystery of human suffering – and God’s response to it; the Son of God came to live and die like one of us, only to rise from the depths, open the gates of paradise, and provide a way for all to live eternally. 

As John proclaims in today’s Gospel, “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son so that all who believe in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.”

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If you were to create your own crucifix, what would Jesus look like? Where would he be? Would he be in your home, watching over your family as you teach your children to adore him? Would he be in a cancer ward? A homeless shelter? A war-torn land? 

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Ultimately, every answer is just. 

As we celebrate this Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, we are reminded that we are the ongoing interpreters of what the Cross means.

We are the ones who must ponder, process, and share this mysterious truth of our faith – that God suffered for us; that in dying, we, too, will rise; that by suffering we are redeemed; that we only truly live when we give ourselves away.

Christ Crucified, have mercy us.

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Image credits: (1) Pieta, Baptist News Gospel (2) Cristo Crucificado, Goya (3) Adobe Stock