Friday of the 4th Week of Lent
April 1, 2022
Knights of Columbus Board Meeting
St. Patrick Cathedral, New York City
Misjudging
Recently, I changed my mind about a fellow bishop I had known for many years. Over time, I saw him at meetings and events, sat next to him on a bus and across the table from him at dinner; I thought I knew him pretty well. Until, one day, I had a long conversation with him. I discovered in him a spiritual depth and a pastoral heart I had not suspected. I realized I knew him only superficially. I had underestimated him.
Various obstacles prevent us from knowing others and lead us to misjudge them. Sometimes our conversation is rushed or shallow; or we judge others by appearances; or we regard them as rivals; or we mistake their goodness for self-righteousness. When we close our hearts, we close our minds. We see this, don’t we, in our readings from the Book of Wisdom and John’s Gospel. Let’s take a second look.
Wisdom 2:1a, 12-22
The Book of Wisdom introduces us to someone identified only as “the just one”, a mysterious figure with an uncanny resemblance to Jesus. Just as Jesus would do, the just one called the people of his day to repentance. Like Jesus, he professed to have knowledge of God. As with Jesus, his mere presence stirred up anger and opposition among the wicked. So, they condemned the just one, confident he would crack under the strain. They taunted him, just as Jesus crucified would be taunted: “Let us see,” they said, “whether or not God comes to take care of him.”
They were wrong about the just one. Their wickedness blinded them. Their judgment of him reflected, not the truth, but their own corruption. As a result, they knew neither the just one nor the counsels of God. Nor did they could they imagine that how God would vindicate the just one. All unawares, they were laying the groundwork for the death and resurrection of Christ.
John 7:1-2, 10, 25-30
In the Gospel, Jesus slips into Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles. His secret arrival gives us some idea of how tense the atmosphere was. Jesus was controversial. People were talking. Opinion was divided. Then as now, ignorance was rampant. Was he the Messiah or not? Why were the authorities tolerating him? How could he be the Christ since we know him and know where he came from? When the Messiah comes, no one was supposed to know where he is from. Overhearing the chatter, Jesus cries out, “So you know me and you know where I am from!” As if to say, “you do not know me and you do not know where I am from!” Those who believed in him, believed only superficially. The rest thought they knew Jesus. In fact, they had hardened their hearts against him.
One thing is for sure. Jesus knew them. Jesus’ gaze penetrated through to their souls. He not only heard their words, he knew their thoughts and feelings. Their abject ignorance of the God and the ways of God aggrieved him. Soon they would “crucify the Lord of glory”.
Does Jesus Know Us? Do We Know Him
All of which leads us to deep examination of conscience in these final weeks of Lent. Just as I felt I knew that fellow bishop, when really I did not, so too we may feel that we know the Lord better than we actually do. Scholars have tried to find out who Jesus is apart from how he revealed himself. With his words of truth, his miracles, his sacrifice on the cross, and his resurrection all consigned to realm of politics and myth, Jesus becomes a shadow of himself – at best, some sort of prophetic teacher or an ethicist. What about us who are not inclined to see Jesus through the lens of myth or politics? If we are not careful, we can imprison Jesus in very dogmatic teachings we profess. It’s not that these solemn teachings are wrong or defective, but knowing and repeating them without a personal relationship with the Lord serves to keep the Christ at arm’s length and reduces him to an object, an object to be studied not a Person to be known and loved.
Not for nothing does Jesus begin his preaching with the words, “repent and believe.” Only when we know something of ourselves can we know something of Jesus, for the true beginning point of our knowledge of Jesus is our need for him. If we are wrapped up in our sophistication or self-righteousness, we will never truly know Jesus, let alone admit him to our inmost hearts. A humble, contrite heart is the place to start. But in our humility, let us not forget that every act of humble faith that yields true knowledge of Jesus Christ is itself God’s creation and gift to us.
When we approach Jesus with faithful hearts, aware of our need for him, we will know him because we will know that he came from God, that he is God’s Son in the flesh, that he really did preach the truth in love while curing the sick and raising the dead. And we will know that he did all of this in anticipation of that “hour”, that Kairos, that privileged moment in human history, when he would lay down his life for us. What we must know of Jesus is this: ‘He loved me and he gave his life for me.’ When we truly do know this, we will admit him into our heart of hearts. He will become the true center of our lives, the one who reveals us to ourselves, the one who is the answer to the question that each of us is. In a phrase, “we shall know as we are known”.
The Project of a Lifetime
While we may have flashes of inspiration and conversion experiences, truly knowing Jesus is a lifetime project, or better, the project of a lifetime. It takes patience, attention, silence – taking time characteristic of an act of love. It demands that we sit with Scriptures, read and listen to them attentively, allow them to resound in our hearts, all to prepare ourselves to receive the Eucharist. In his humility, Jesus has willed to enter the humble abode that is our souls.
I can’t think of anything we should desire more than truly to know Jesus. Yes, let us have done with our sins and bad habits and let us confess them. Let us fast and pray, and give alms. But let us do so, not as an exercise in self-improvement, but rather so as to open our hearts, that with St. Paul, we may truly know Christ and him crucified. Vivat Jesus!