Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we stand beside Jesus in a tangled world of insults, violence, plots, and dirty money. How sickening and painful such an atmosphere must have been to him who is Love and Divine Innocence. The psalmist describes the pain like this:
Insult has broken my heart, and I am weak, I looked for sympathy, but there was none; for consolers, not one could I find. Rather they put gall in my food, and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.
Psalm 69: 21-22
Despite such trauma, we see Christ’s trust and holy determination to embrace the Father’s Will however it is revealed to him.
The Lord GOD is my help, therefore I am not disgraced; I have set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame.
Isaiah 50:7
As we look to Jesus’s fidelity to find courage in our own challenges, we must also be starkly aware of what opposing infidelity looks like. We see it in the face of Judas – the Pretender who reclines at the Lord’s table, still eats the sacred food, dissembles his innocence while the blood-coins jingle in his pocket.
Once again, as the Passion story unfolds before us, we can find ourselves somewhere – perhaps many places – in its lines. Wherever that is, let us pray there with Jesus to be open in trust and fidelity to its transformative grace.
Poetry: Slow through the Dark – Paul Lawrence Dunbar
Slow moves the pageant of a climbing race; Their footsteps drag far, far below the height, And, unprevailing by their utmost might, Seem faltering downward from each hard won place. No strange, swift-sprung exception we; we trace A devious way thro’ dim, uncertain light,— Our hope, through the long vistaed years, a sight Of that our Captain’s soul sees face to face.
Who, faithless, faltering that the road is steep, Now raiseth up his drear insistent cry? Who stoppeth here to spend a while in sleep Or curseth that the storm obscures the sky? Heed not the darkness round you, dull and deep; The clouds grow thickest when the summit’s nigh.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, the clouds thicken around Jesus.
Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled and testified, “Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant.
John 13:21
How painful for Jesus, and for these who have shared the glorious years of his ministry, to now sit with suspicion among yesterday’s friends. How lonely for each one as the dark force of doubt pushes them away from one another!
Only love can break through this kind of doubt, courageously exposing the truth in order that it might be reconciled and offered forgiveness:
One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus’ side. So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant. He leaned back against Jesus’ chest and said to him, “Master, who is it?”
Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it.” So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot.
John 13: 21-26
As the rest of the Passion story unfolds, both Judas and Peter will need the kind of forgiveness these readings describe. Both prove false to Jesus’s trust. But one has the humble contrition to seek forgiveness. The other cannot forget himself enough to do so.
This “doubtful Tuesday” can teach us much about expectations, courage, truth, love, trust, humility, and forgiveness. Let us sit beside Jesus at the Gospel table and ask him, like the Disciples, how we measure up to his hope for us.
Poetry: Christ Washed the Feet of Judas – George Marion McClellan
Christ washed the feet of Judas! The dark and evil passions of his soul, His secret plot, and sordidness complete, His hate, his purposing, Christ knew the whole. And still in love he stooped and washed his feet.
Christ washed the feet of Judas! Yet all his lurking sin was bare to him, His bargain with the priest, and more than this, In Olivet, beneath the moonlight dim, Aforehand knew and felt his treacherous kiss.
Christ washed the feet of Judas! And so ineffable his love ’twas meet, That pity fill his great forgiving heart, And tenderly to wash the traitor’s feet, Who in his Lord had basely sold his part.
Christ washed the feet of Judas! And thus a girded servant, self-abased, Taught that no wrong this side the gate of heaven Was ever too great to wholly be effaced, And though unasked, in spirit be forgiven.
And so if we have ever felt the wrong Of Trampled rights, of caste, it matters not, What e’er the soul has felt or suffered long, Oh, heart! this one thing should not be forgot: Christ washed the feet of Judas
Music: The Kiss – Joe Niemand
Meet me in the garden My love Meet me there at midnight
At the place only we know My love A kiss awaits tonight
In the darkness between the flowers My love In the shadows of the moon
Your lips will tear the pretense like the curtain tomorrow afternoon
And so the glow of approaching torches Makes the darkness dance like black flames Ever faster to the music of every heart that refuses to be saved
I prayed this could be different That my death could save you too But your choices are your own Now my friend, do what you came to do
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our Gospel tells the sad story of Jesus’s betrayal by his closest friends.
“Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant. One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus’ side. So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant. He leaned back against Jesus’ chest and said to him, “Master, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it.” So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot. After Judas took the morsel, Satan entered him.
The Last Supper (1630–1631) is an oil painting by Peter Paul Rubens. The painting depicts Jesus and the Apostles during the Last Supper, with Judas dressed in blue turning back towards the viewer and away from the table. Other than Jesus, the most prominent figure is Judas. Judas holds his right hand to his mouth with his eyes avoiding direct contact with the other figures in the painting creating a nervous expression. (Wikipedia)
Pope Francis, in his 2020 Palm Sunday homily, reflected on the depth of these betrayals:
Jesus suffered betrayal by the disciple who sold him and by the disciple who denied him. He was betrayed by the people who sang hosanna to him and then shouted: “Crucify him!” He was betrayed by the religious institution that unjustly condemned him and by the political institution that washed its hands of him.
We can think of all the small or great betrayals that we have suffered in life. It is terrible to discover that a firmly placed trust has been betrayed. From deep within our heart a disappointment surges up that can even make life seem meaningless. This happens because we were born to be loved and to love, and the most painful thing is to be betrayed by someone who promised to be loyal and close to us. We cannot even imagine how painful it was for God who is love.
These first three days of Holy Week are like the days in our lives when we know there is a wave of suffering coming but it hasn’t quite broken over us. Something just isn’t right in our bodies, minds, spirits, or in the world around us. In such times, the actual pain might be muted, but the fear, loneliness, anxiety and dark imaginations can be acute.
It’s hard to be with ourselves or with another in this kind of suffering. We see in our Gospel how hard it was for the disciples.
All one really has in such moments are the faith and trust that God ever abides with us. It is the kind of assurance Jesus had with the Father.
As we walk beside Jesus on this Fearful Tuesday, let us confide our sufferings, current or remembered, asking to be gracefully transformed by them. Let us listen to Jesus’s pain and heart-break, asking to be a source of comfort and love to Him.
With Jesus, may we carry in our prayer all those throughout the world suffering abandonment, fear, loss, or betrayal at this painful time.
Saint Judas – James Wright
When I went out to kill myself, I caught A pack of hoodlums beating up a man. Running to spare his suffering, I forgot My name, my number, how my day began, How soldiers milled around the garden stone And sang amusing songs; how all that day Their javelins measured crowds; how I alone Bargained the proper coins, and slipped away.
Banished from heaven, I found this victim beaten, Stripped, kneed, and left to cry. Dropping my rope Aside, I ran, ignored the uniforms: Then I remembered bread my flesh had eaten, The kiss that ate my flesh. Flayed without hope, I held the man for nothing in my arms.
Music: I Will Carry You – Sean Clive You might hear this song in many ways. Perhaps Jesus comforts you with it. Or you might comfort Jesus in his escalating suffering. Or together, Jesus and you may sing it over a suffering world. (Lyrics below)
I will carry you when you are weak. I will carry you when you can’t speak. I will carry you when you can’t pray. I will carry you each night and day.
I will carry you when times are hard. I will carry you both near & far. I’ll be there with you whenever you fall. I will carry you through it all.
My arms are wider than the sky, softer than a little child, stronger than the raging, calming like a gentle breeze. Trust in me to hold on tight because
I will carry you when you can’t stand. I’ll be there for you to hold your hand. And I will show you that you’re never alone. I will carry you and bring you back home.
Not pain, not fear, not death, no nothing at all can separate you from my love. My arms and hands will hold you close. Just reach out and take them in your own. Trust in me to hold on tight. I will carry you.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 71, a prayer of yielding and confident faith.
Often thought to be the prayer of an aging David, Psalm 71 recalls a long and steady relationship with God. Even as his youthful vigor wanes, the psalmist declares that his true strength rests in God’s faithfulness.
For you are my hope, O LORD; my trust, O God, from my youth. On you I depend from birth; from my mother’s womb you are my strength. My mouth shall declare your justice, day by day your salvation. O God, you have taught me from my youth, and till the present I proclaim your wondrous deeds.
Psalm 71: 15-17
King David as an Old Man – Rembrandt
David witnesses to a powerful faith, one that we all might cherish in our human diminishments. It is hard to lose things in our life – youth, health, relationships, reputation, enthusiasm, hope, direction, security. But all of us face at least some of these challenges at some time in our lives.
Judas Iscariot (right), retiring from the Last Supper, painting by Carl Bloch, late 19th century
In our Gospel today, Jesus acknowledges the loss of trust in a close disciple:
“Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant.
John 13:21-22
That betrayal is a sign to Jesus that the great dream of his earthly ministry is coming to an ignominious close when even those dearest to him slip into betrayal and denial.
What is it that holds Jesus together, heart and soul riveted on the Father’s Will, as he moves through these heart-wrenching days.
Jesus is the living sacrament of complete obedience and union with God. Every choice of his life has brought him to a readiness for this final and supreme act of trusting love. Like the psalmist today, Jesus’s whole life proclaims:
I will always hope in you and add to all your praise. My mouth shall proclaim your just deeds, day after day your acts of deliverance, though I cannot number them all.i I will speak of the mighty works of the Lord; O GOD, I will tell of your singular justice. God, you have taught me from my youth; to this day I proclaim your wondrous deeds.
Psalm 71: 14-17
As we accompany Jesus today, let us pray this psalm with him, asking for an ever-deepening faith, hope, and love.
Poetry: Jesus Weeps – Malcolm Guite
Jesus comes near and he beholds the city And looks on us with tears in his eyes, And wells of mercy, streams of love and pity Flow from the fountain whence all things arise. He loved us into life and longs to gather And meet with his beloved face to face How often has he called, a careful mother, And wept for our refusals of his grace, Wept for a world that, weary with its weeping, Benumbed and stumbling, turns the other way, Fatigued compassion is already sleeping Whilst her worst nightmares stalk the light of day. But we might waken yet, and face those fears, If we could see ourselves through Jesus’ tears.
Music: Long Ago – Michael Hoppé, Tom Wheater, Michael Tillman
Today, in Mercy, the shadows of “Spy Wednesday” threaten. In our Gospel, Judas asks the chief priests,
“What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?”
How terribly sad! This man whom Judas loved and admired! This man who loved and trusted Judas in return! Judas sells Divine Friendship for thirty pieces of silver … about a season’s wages. Hence, for all time, the name “Judas” has been tied to betrayed trust.
We give a great gift when we trust someone. We hope they will be honest and respectful of that gift. We hope they will be truthful in relationship with us. We hope that, if the relationship frays, they will try with us to re-knit it, or at least to lay it aside in reverence and gratitude. Judas proved unworthy of the trust Jesus had given him.
Trust is a precious and scant commodity in our modern culture. Our entertainment media presents us constantly with examples of cheating, treachery, greed, and a host of other deadly sins. It shows us relationships built on whim and appearances rather than long and tested fidelity and honor. Our culture has become confused, like Judas, about what is really important for our lives.
Perhaps some of our errant culture has seeped into our spiritual lives? Today is a good day to test the quality of our relationship with God. Do we trust him, speak with him, choose for him, stand by him? Will God find us faithful? Or are there some little pieces of silver in our lives for which we sometimes trade him?
Music: May the Lord Find Us Faithful – Mac and Beth Lynch
Today, in Mercy, as Holy Week deepens, so does confusion, fear, and even betrayal among Christ’s disciples.
In today’s Gospel, we see Judas turn from his own truth to a disastrous treachery.
We see John and Peter full of questions, confused by the turn of events. Jesus foretells the impending denial by Peter, his chosen successor.
The great trials of Christ’s Passion and Death emerge from the shadows of rumor and deception. Jesus makes it clear that the end is near.
As we read the passage, we can feel the fear mounting in everyone but Jesus. In him, we see see Isaiah’s description strengthening- the Lord’s Glorious Servant rising as the Light of Nations.
Fear destroys while trust and hope liberate.
Praying with this Gospel this morning, I remember the face of a woman I had seen on the evening news. At a contentious political rally, she was loudly shouting her preference to live under a dictator rather than live in a country “full of filthy immigrants”. She thought her raging made her strong. But I saw a person filled with ignorance and fear.
I can’t forget her face. It so saddened me to see the child of a beautiful God so distorted by weakness, prejudice and fear. She could no longer see the face of God in another human being. I think hers would have been the face I saw on Judas, had I met him as he left the Last Supper.
Fear is a disfiguring disease. It seeps into our heart and mind to blind and deafen us to God’s power in our life. It cripples our graced potential. It eventually kills the “glorious servant” we too have been called to become.
Paula D’Arcy says this:
Who would I be, and what power
would be expressed in my life, if I were not dominated by fear?
It’s a powerful question.
How does fear keep me:
from loving?
from hoping?
from believing?
from giving?
from receiving?
Today’s Responsorial Psalm, filled with beautiful phrases, offers us a heartfelt prayer as we place our fears in God’s hands:
R. I will sing of your salvation. In you, O LORD, I take refuge; let me never be put to shame. In your justice rescue me, and deliver me; incline your ear to me, and save me. R. I will sing of your salvation. Be my rock of refuge, a stronghold to give me safety, for you are my rock and my fortress. O my God, rescue me from the hand of the wicked. R. I will sing of your salvation. For you are my hope, O LORD; my trust, O God, from my youth. On you I depend from birth; from my mother’s womb you are my strength. R. I will sing of your salvation. My mouth shall declare your justice, day by day your salvation. O God, you have taught me from my youth, and till the present I proclaim your wondrous deeds. R. I will sing of your salvation.
Lavish Mercy 