My Spiritual Reflection during Holy Week, the Paschal Triduum, and the Celebration of the Joy of Easter Sunday. Timothy P. Dore, OFM Conv.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the two significant concepts that always seem to be at play, and often contemplated, in the Christian consciousness: that is, our experience of sin and its opposite reality that we call redemption.
We are all familiar with these realities, and we believe they have great importance as we attempt to understand how we relate to each other, and how God may intervene in order to give each one of us a sense of meaning, purpose, and perseverance as we try to make sense of our lives, and of our common human experience, and the fact that we fail at times and need to seek forgiveness and reconciliation for our faults when necessary, ̶̶̶ ̶ and on the “flip side,” of striving and having success in our quest to find purpose, meaning, and a desire always to better ourselves and the world around us.
During the courses of our lives, and unfortunately, we’ve all known some who have lost their way, perhaps have fallen into some great senses of sin, or have faced difficulties or problems that seemed to have had no solutions or resolutions. Sometimes it seems such people have lost all hope, and they have concluded “all is lost,” and maybe even in some extreme cases, such people have come to believe “life is not worth living.” No doubt, the worst possible result of such thinking might even lead some people to take their own lives. We all know how heartbreaking it is when a prematurely deceased persons’ friends and family members have to endure such tragedies. No words can ever really describe the depths of such sorrow and anguish.
On the Wednesday of Holy Week, the Scriptures for the Mass reminded us of people who had either been tempted-to, or had possibly arrived-at just such moments in their human journeys. The servant figure, presented the first reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah that day, found himself among a people who had lost faith in the promise of God’s salvation, particularly the promise to take them out captivity in Babylon and to return them to the joy and happiness of life in the Promised Land of their ancestors. Many in his audience, the people he desired to serve, refused to listen to his message and so he then reflects on his temptation to despair as he struggles to understand his purpose and effectiveness as a minister of God. Thankfully, these Scripture passages demonstrated to us that the servant came to a clear appreciation for his mission and purpose, and he recognized the salvific power of God to give him strength in the struggles he had to endure. He says: “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting BECAUSE the Lord GOD is my help, and therefore I am not disgraced . . . the Lord God is my help.” Perhaps we could say the servant’s temptation to despair had been abated! He did not lose hope!
In Wednesday’s Gospel we were once again reminded of the Apostle Judas’ plot to hand Jesus over to the Pharisees. This is why tradition calls the Wednesday of Holy Week “Spy Wednesday.” That day, we heard the prediction of the betrayal of Jesus as found in the 26th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. And just for good measure, we also heard about the betrayal on Palm Sunday’s narrative of the Passion, and again on Tuesday, when we heard a similar account read on that day. And then, once more we heard of the betrayal of Judas when we listened to the reading of the Passion Narrative on Good Friday. Judas certainly got a lot of coverage during Holy Week!
It seems to me Judas has universally been assigned to something like “a bum rap” because of his place in the events leading up to the arrest, the passion, the sufferings, and the death of Jesus. He was in fact culpable of the betrayal, but my question today, and something we might wish to ponder is the following: Even though he betrayed Jesus, and in the end took his own life because of guilt and shame, was Judas therefore beyond the possibility of redemption? According to “the Divine Comedy,” the great work of the 14th century Italian poet Dante, Judas was condemned in “the Inferno” to the “ninth circle of hell.” Dante described the ninth circle to be the LOWEST and most despicable part of hell; it is reserved for those who committed the sin of treachery, the betrayal and the rejection of human love. Located in the very center of hell, the ninth circle has the distinction and the “great dishonor” of being the place where Lucifer himself is trapped, locked and frozen up to his waist in ice. Does Judas really merit to be cast into such a place of eternal damnation?
It may seem extremely sad to us that someone who had been such a close follower of Jesus, in fact one of the Twelve Apostles, could have literally turned his back on Jesus. He did indeed fail to remain faithful to his calling as a bearer of the Good News and to the New Covenant of God’s Love. We may wonder why he wasn’t able to remain committed to those values about which he very often heard Jesus preach, and that he witnessed him putting into action by the way he served others.
We can imagine Judas was present for almost all of the miraculous events associated with Jesus’ ministry. He was there when Jesus cast out demons, when he cleansed those with leprosy, when he cured the crippled and disabled, when he gave sight to the blind, when he enabled the mute to speak, when he healed men and women of various other infirmities, when he fed the hungry, when he raised to life those who had died (like the widow’s son, the daughter of Jairus, and even his friend Lazarus), and when he otherwise forgave the sins of many (such as the woman at the well, the woman caught in adultery, Zacchaeus the tax-collector, and even quite a few of the Apostles themselves who had been living unrepentant lives prior to responding to the call to follow him as disciples). And it’s important to remember that Jesus’ healing and merciful acts always implied a corresponding forgiveness of sins and reconciliation to the Father’s love! Judas had witnessed all of this!
This year, I was reflecting a lot about Judas during the days of Holy Week as I anticipated the soon to be observed Paschal Triduum, and the joy of Easter. I thought about the fact that I like many other people have faced moments of great difficulty in my life. At times, I’ve even needed to seek counsel and support from professional therapists and spiritual directors who were able to help me along the way. It makes me wonder if Judas, if he hadn’t ultimately despaired and taken his own life, would have been the perfect type of candidate for such counsel, emotional and spiritual comfort. When we ourselves have failed or despaired, isn’t it likely we did so because we too may have somehow betrayed Jesus by our actions, or perhaps because we were unfaithful to the commitments we previously made as people of Christian faith? With this in mind, we might think that perhaps if given the chance, one like Judas may have benefitted well by receiving some intensive therapy, for some rigorous spiritual counsel, and by the life-giving grace offered by the sacrament of reconciliation! Perhaps if given the chance, Judas may have been able to reclaim his dignity as a faithful disciple of Jesus, and he would have been able to return to his rightful place as one who knew and who had proclaimed the Good News of forgiveness, redemption, and the salvation offered to all in the Kingdom of God. I think this is something worth pondering!
With all of this in mind, I’d now like to “switch gears” and share with you an event from my own life that has often given me much upon which to reflect. I’ll come back to Judas in a moment.
Many years ago, when I was a young seminarian and before I was ordained, I thought I would want to spend my Franciscan and priestly life as a missionary in some faraway place. In fact, when I was a bit older I did spend some time as a priest, now over twenty years ago, living and ministering in Central America, specifically in Honduras and Costa Rica. I’ll save the details of that part of my life for another reflection on another day!
While I was still a young seminarian I had my first “foreign missionary experience” as an “intern” for several months living and working with the friars from my community in a small village called Ankaful in Ghana, West Africa. There, I spent time living in a friary located right next to a leprosy camp (a place called “the Ankaful leprosy camp”). The friars had a well-established ministry to the people who lived there, and I was put to work with various outreach tasks done daily in order to serve those people who I soon and very poignantly came to realize were definitely “the poorest of the world’s poor.”
There were many children living in the Ankaful leprosy camp. Many of them had parents who had leprosy, and some of them even suffered with leprosy as well. Quite a few of them were orphans whose parents had unfortunately died as a result of suffering from that very terrible disease. I saw that the friars, the religious sisters, the lay-people who ministered with them, and the children’s family members took very good care of them! They were loved, respected, educated, and treated with great dignity by all, not the least of whom were the adult leprosy victims in the camp who were basically condemned to live in that most despicable place with those children.
One of those children, a small orphaned boy named Kofi Ben who was about ten-years-old, had taken a liking to me, and he seemed always to find me and then follow me around the camp as I went about the activities I did there. The wide-opened whites of his eyes were very pronounced against his very dark skin, and his never-ending smile highlighted by his beautifully white teeth, were very captivating! Like the other children in the camp, Kofi Ben was also filled with affection and playfulness.
One day my “intern supervisor” told me he wanted me to lead about fifteen of the children on an outing to the beach. The Ankaful village was located about a mile away from the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. We were to walk to the beach, but I had no idea how to get there from where we were. My supervisor told me I needed not to worry because the children were very accustomed to going there, and knew a good “shortcut” through “the bush” that would take us there without difficulty. He assured me they were “experts about the beach” and the path to get there. And so, I followed them through a rough trail cut between tall grasses and swampy-like wetlands all the way to the mighty Atlantic. Kofi Ben took my hand during much of the hike through “the bush;” he did so as if to assure me I needed not to be afraid of any dangers along the way (such as the famously poisonous snakes, scorpions, mosquitos, and the wild and very aggressive pig-like animal called ‘the giant forest hog’ that dwelled there). It was as if that little boy “gently and assuringly ministered to me” as we walked along what I fearfully perceived to be a danger-ridden trail. The fact was all those children were very excited and obviously very happy to be on such an adventure! When we first arrived along the coast, we at once encountered a very rocky cliff like area against which the waves of the ocean were crashing with magnificent power and beauty. It was a splendid sight to behold! I followed the children to edge of the cliffs and we all stood there for a while taking in the beauty of it all. My rather expensive camera was strapped around my neck (this was in the days before cell phones), and as I kept it safely dangling there, I snapped numerous photos of the waves and of the children as they gleefully gazed out to the sea! It seemed like a magical moment.
And then of the sudden, and much to my surprise, a huge and monstrous wave came out of nowhere and crashed abruptly against and upon the cliff on which we were standing. In the space of one second, Kofi Ben was swept up by the wave and pulled right into the angry surf. I saw the look of terror on his face, and the anguish projected by his wide-opened and frightened eyes, as he quickly disappeared under the raging water.
And without a half-a-second’s hesitation, and without giving any bit of thought to anything but Kofi Ben’s safety, as I’m sure as any one of us would have done in the same situation, I immediately jumped off the cliff and into the powerful waters in order to grab ahold of him so he wouldn’t be dragged out to sea, and most likely drowned by those merciless ocean waters. I didn’t have time to think about the possibility I might also drown with him at that horrific moment. And my poor camera certainly wasn’t given even the slightest consideration to any benefit of being spared from the destruction it was then forced to endure!
Once I was in the water, and then when I was able to reach Kofi Ben, clutch and wrap my arms around him, he literally clung to me for his life. Very fortunately, and holding onto him, I was then able to swim back toward the cliffs and grab ahold of the rocks and then work my way around its jagged edges in order to climb back out of the water and back to safety. My camera didn’t fare as well as Kofi Ben and I did!
Once out of the water, and even though I then was sure all would be well, Kofi Ben continued to cling to me and he cried like a baby! It took me quite some time as I attempted to calm him and to assure him he was safe and sound! In that moment, our servant roles to each other that day somehow became inverted; he who only a short time earlier had given me a sense of security as we walked along the bush path, now himself became a very needy recipient of my attention, care, and support. As I reassuringly held him, all of the other children gathered around us and with their words and gestures seemed very thankfully to celebrate our victory over the danger we had both endured. Even so, I too was an emotional mess! Talk about an adrenaline rush!
I share this story not to bring attention to myself nor to my actions that likely saved Kofi Ben from the worst of possibilities that could have happened on that day. But rather, I wish to contemplate through the optic of this event what I would call a “spiritual reality.”
Many of us, likely most of us, have experienced at least metaphorically what happened to Kofi Ben that day. He was going about his life, perhaps exposed to many dangers and issues that could have brought an end to him. He was living in a leprosy camp, he had been orphaned, he lived in abject poverty, and his prospects for a prosperous future where certainly limited. Yet, even so, he was a joyful, loving, and very compassionate child, and because he was loved and cared-for by many, there were surely positive hopes for a yet-to-come-life filled with happiness--and for triumph over all that might have otherwise made him hopeless. Then, in an instant he was swept from a relative place of stability and he was suddenly cast into an angry sea that literally threatened to destroy his life. In that moment of grave danger and possible devastation he was rescued and brought safely back to shore, to a state of wellbeing, and to the promise of a future full of possibilities.
In many ways, and because of our own difficulties in life, I think we might be able to identify with Kofi Ben, and to his experience of being saved. But because we are Christians as well, we may also identify with the human impulse, like I think I had in that moment, to come to the rescue of others who are facing trauma, difficulties, despair, and any number of problems that might lead to destruction, to the forfeiture of peace and happiness, and even to the loss of life itself.
In a way, and because our own experiences on both sides of this equation, we can understand, especially in light of our hope to be instruments of God’s love in this world, how difficult and painful it is to lose our own way. As people who share our faith with others, we may have had many opportunities to be instruments of God’s love, forgiveness and reconciliation. We may have been at the forefront of people’s lives as they experienced the salvific power of God in this very complicated world in which we live. And yet, we also fully understand how vulnerable and weak we ourselves might have become along the way. As faithful Christians, we are enthusiastic instruments of the Savior, but we must never forget that we too need “to be saved” as well!
If you are like me, you may have at times, and somehow along the way, lost your focus and now looking back know what it was like to be swept off a cliff and into some type of “an angry sea” that threatened to destroy the very holy and whole person you always desired to be. I would like to think the care and treatment we then hopefully received from our fellow believers was very much in line with God’s desire to save all those who have met such fates. I for one know what it’s like to have benefitted from the actions of others who’ve dedicated their lives to embracing others who have struggled with various demons. I know what it’s like to be one who has desired to be healed of his despair, his depression, the desperation of addictions, and then to be lifted out of any misfortunes that otherwise would have led to conditions of hopelessness. Isn’t this what the message of Jesus’ salvific power is all about?
At every Mass, but in a special way on Holy Thursday, we turned our attention to the celebration of the Eucharist. As Jesus offers himself to us in that great sacrament of the Father’s love, and as we recall the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, he tells us to take the bread of life, his very body given up for us; he tells us to drink from the chalice that contains the blood of the new and eternal covenant; he tells us it’s poured out for the forgiveness of sins! He tells us to do this in memory of him! And I always like to remember that at the same Last Supper, and very much connected to Jesus’ action of offering his body and blood to us, he also got down on his knees and humbly washed the feet of his disciples. And in memory of him he also proclaimed that as he had done in the washing of the feet (i.e., humble service to others), so we must also do! This means as Eucharistic people we MUST give our very lives in service to others, and especially to those who are most in need. This is what Jesus always did!
We may not have to jump into an angry ocean surf along a jagged cliff to put the mandate of Jesus into action, but we certainly must always place ourselves in service to others as he did. As those who have been the recipients of God’s great love and redemption, we too are all called to bring the same healing and forgiveness to others. This is what it means to be a Christian!
And so, coming back to Judas, can there be no doubt Jesus would want to reach out in love and with a very forgiving heart to this man who in many ways like so many of us have “lost our way?” I believe any thoughts to the contrary are simply not in line with the constant theme of the healing and the merciful acts of Jesus that so very parallel his desire to forgive sins and to reconcile all to the love of the Father! It’s all about REDEMPTION!
During Holy Week, the Paschal Triduum, and on Easter Sunday, as we have contemplated themes of betrayal of God’s love, the sufferings and Passion of Jesus, the terror of death and the tomb, and the triumph of life over sin and death in the Resurrection of Jesus, let’s never forget that our God always remains a loving God and he never ceases to call all of his children back into the fold of his grace—even those of us who in life must deal with many difficult and complex “issues!” Indeed, I believe Jesus will jump into any and all metaphorical “angry waters of the sea” in order to save us! We may all be sinners, but the reality of God’s love, grace, and the gift of redemption in our Christians lives are far more powerful than any weaknesses or sins to which we may have previously succumbed! Our God desires to intervene in our lives so that we may return to a sense of meaning, purpose, and perseverance as we try to make sense of the present moment, and all of our future possibilities!
In conclusion, I’m remembering the words to a Gospel song entitled “Love Lifted Me” that I believe captures this idea perfectly. The song was written over a hundred years ago, and it’s still sung by many hopeful Christian people. It’s based on the account in the 14th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew in which Jesus saves the doubting Apostle Peter from drowning as he pulls him out of the waters of the sea. We all know the story!
“I was sinking deep in sin, far from the peaceful shore, very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more, but the master of the sea heard my despairing cry, from the waters lifted me, now safe am I. Love lifted me! Love lifted me! When nothing else could help, love lifted me. Love lifted me! Love lifted me! When nothing else could help, love lifted me. Souls in danger look above, Jesus completely saves, he will lift you by his love, out of the angry waves, but the master of the sea, billows His will obey, he your savior wants to be, be saved today! Love lifted me . . . !”
Can there be no doubt that by his love, Jesus wants to lift each one of us out of any “raging waters” in which we might find ourselves? Can there be any doubt he would have done the same for our brother the Apostle Judas, and all who cry out to God for mercy from the depths of their despair and hopelessness? Can there be any doubt that we too must “do as Jesus has done” as we sacrificially give of ourselves, and extend the same hand of mercy and forgiveness, to those we also serve?
Happy Easter! Jesus is risen from the dead! He is Truly Risen, Alleluia!
Let’s encourage each other with this message of our faith!
