A Paramore teen recently walked
the 54 miles from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama to commemorate when hundreds
marched to fight for voting rights in 1965. Jones High School student Smith
Charles’ journey comes on the heels of a renewed push for stricter voting laws.
Charles and his mentor Brad Mason stopped at all four of the campsites visited
during that five-day journey in 1965 when the group finally made it through. Charles
said. “Walking
on that bridge felt scary because you watch the movie, and people talk about
the history. That’s the Bloody Sunday.” Charles continues, “It gives you a feeling of what a lot of people
risked their lives for, some even dying for the cause.” He said, “I’m not going to lie right
now, I feel like crying, it felt free, it felt good.”
The
1965 campaign in Alabama, progressed with mass arrests but little violence for
the first month. However, that wasn’t
the case in February, when police attacks against nonviolent demonstrators increased.
On the night of February 18, 1965
Alabama state troopers joined local police in breaking up an evening march in
Marion. In the ensuing melee, a state
trooper fatally shot a 26-year-old church deacon, as he attempted to protect
his mother from the trooper’s nightstick.
Alabama has its history, Florida has its history as do many other states across
the nation.
You’d
think, for all the progress we’ve made in race relations this world just does
not seem to be any simpler nor just.
Violence dominates the world, national, and local news: racial violence,
religious violence, domestic violence, youth violence! When
do we get to see Jesus?
Jesus’
response to the two Greek’s request to see him, is an interesting shift. Recall when Jesus’ mother requested his aid at
the wedding at Cana, his response was, “my hour has not yet come” (Jn 2:4). When the religious authorities wanted to
arrest him, they couldn’t, because His “hour had not yet come” (Jn 7:30). Today, the response is, “the hour has come for
the son of man to be glorified…”
(Jn
12:23). It is time to consummate the new
covenant. A covenant that will be written,
not on stone tablets, not on scrolls, or in new laws, but on our hearts. A covenant so intimate it will demand the
rigors of our total commitment, a sort of death to self and an offering of self
to the service of God and his people.
Throughout
Lent the scriptures have focused on the tools and outlook necessary to make
such a total commitment. Shared were the
tools of fasting and prayer; steps in seeking God’s wisdom, the need for
self-reflection, and the undertaking of cleansing this living tabernacle in
preparation to worthily receive communion.
Scholars commonly refer to Jeremiah’s new covenant oracle as “The Gospel before the Gospel” because it finds its fulfillment
in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. It is here, at this table, we most
often seek to satisfy our request
to see Jesus in
the Body and Blood we share. Each time we gather for Mass, the priest, standing
in the person of Christ, invites us into the paschal mystery. “For this is my body,
which will be given up for you.” “For this is the chalice of my blood … poured
out for you and for many.”
(GIRM,
Eucharistic Prayers)
So,
if we want to
see Jesus, we not
only have to pay attention but join into his life, death,
and resurrection. Let’s just center
our focus on the cup he had to drink. In
his book, Can You
Drink the Cup, Henri Nouwen poses the question
this way. “Can you drink the cup? Can
you empty it to the dregs? Can you taste
all the sorrows and joys? Can you live
your life to the full whatever it will bring?” He noted that he “realized these were our
questions. But why should we drink this
cup? There is so much pain, so much
anguish, so much violence. Why should we
drink the cup? Wouldn’t it be a lot
easier to live normal lives with a minimum of pain and a maximum of pleasure?”
Jesus
wrestled with this same question, “I am troubled now. Yet what
should I say? Father save me from this
hour?” (Jn 12:27) We know and celebrate, with each
Eucharistic feast, how Jesus held the cup, how he lifted the cup to his friends,
and drank the cup to its dregs from the cross for us. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for
one’s friends.” (Jn 15:13)
Do you want to see Jesus? Look to the persecuted
Christians around the world who courageously put their lives on the line for
their faith. They’ve drank the cup to its
dregs.
Do you want to see Jesus? Look to our all-volunteer
military, our community first responders, the healthcare professionals on the
frontline of the pandemic, who willingly hold and lift the cup with the courage,
often in harm’s way, yet they are willing to drink the cup to the dregs for our
safety.
Do you want to see Jesus?
Look to your parents, family members, and friends who know, all too
well, the four cups of the Passover. While we share in this Cup of Salvation, they
have often held, lifted and drank the Cup of Sorrow, the Cup of Joy, and the
Cup of Blessings, as they sacrificed their own desires and needs for us, for the
care of their children and grandchildren, for aging and sick family members, or
for other people in need.
Do you want to see Jesus?
Look to the Paramore teen, who walked to remember. Remember a nonviolent
protest for justice and equality, to remember the people who risked everything,
including their lives, for his rights and the freedoms he enjoys today.
The new covenant, written on our hearts, begs us to pay attention to, to be full participants in Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Our worship is an invitation to enter into this paschal mystery. It challenges us to “be” the living image of Christ in midst of our ordinary lives. It invites us to hold, lift, and drink from His chalice, so when others say, “we want to see Jesus” they need to look no further than any one of us, who have offered ourselves completely to God’s service and the service of all His children.
Scriptures,
New American Bible, Jeremiah 31:31-34; Hebrews 5:7-9; John 12:20-33
