Fasting for Life

Isaiah 58: 7-10; ICor 2: 1-5; Matthew 5: 13-16

I feel blessed because I’ve had the opportunity to travel to several Third World countries over the years, often with high school students. I still remember the first time I had left the country and had done one of these trips to Honduras. Needless to say, it’s a culture shock when you step off the plane in another country like this and see men standing around in many locations with machine guns. You quickly realize that you’re no longer in the States and are going to be pushed to look at life and people very differently than what we’re used to here. You know, I’m from small town Pennsylvania and I never had an experience of someone of a different color in my life until I had gone to college. My only experience was judgment, stereotype, and fear. That was it; but quickly learned that none of it was true when I began to enter into relationships with others. It didn’t seem to matter color, lifestyle, religion or anything else that is used to separate and put ourselves in a place of superiority.

The one striking thing we’d often push each other on in these different cultures and surroundings was to catch ourselves when we were being over-American. As Americans, we love to fix and we want to help to the point where we want to, in many ways, create “mini-me’s” around the globe. We think we’re the greatest and somehow know how to do this life thing better than anyone else. However, when we want to fix and we want to help, it also puts us in a place of superiority because we know better than “those” people. It automatically puts up a barrier between and prevents relationship. If there’s anything I learned, none of these experiences were about changing anyone else. More often than not, they were about changing me as a person and to let go of my fears and judgements, sometimes even about myself.

At the heart of the first reading today from the prophet Isaiah is about that, about fasting, but not int the way we use that word. Like most things, we water it down to make these things more palatable, like giving up food or something. That’s not the message of Isaiah though. Isaiah’s challenge is a much more radical fasting. He challenges Israel to fast from malicious thought, oppression, false accusation, and as I said, would include, fear and judgment. Israel also has lived with this complex of greatness, but that’s a hard standard to live up to forever. Eventually it begins to crack and Isaiah is inviting them into that place. Like us at times, they want to enter into these relationships thinking their somehow superior and above and thought everyone should be like them. Isaiah says and challenges today, to give it up. To give up that kind of thinking that stands in the way of relationship. He says to go and serve the poor, the hungry, the homeless. In our own day, we’d add refugees which is not a new phenomenon. It’s gone on for some time and we are left wondering what to do with a humanity that is not in need of fixing and helping but of healing and reconciliation. It’s not just about serving for our own need. It’s about a service that challenges us to go to the vulnerable places in our own lives that are in need of healing. It is so often in these relationships that we are pushed to that place.

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. But not always. We haven’t as a country and we aren’t always in our daily lives. We can’t ignore our own darkness and the moments when we allow fear to control our lives. The light is the only thing that can help to illumine the darkness of our lives. It is so often that fear and judgement that we hold onto and often define ourselves by that prevents us from stepping out of the dark and entering into relationship with the other. Maybe it’s fear of us being moved to change that prevents us the most. When you think you’re the greatest there’s really no need for change. However, here’s the thing about greatness. You can never be it until you give up and surrender all interest in it. There’s no humility in that type of greatness, only pride that cuts our lives short from where it is that God invites us to grow in these relationships with one another.

Relationships are hard, not only others but with God. They require a great deal of effort on our part and an openness to change, me changing! It is much easier to crawl up into my fear and judgement and lock myself into my own little corner of the world but there’s nothing freeing about that. It is so often in the relationships that we have avoided because of our fear and judgment that have prevented us from an experience of the unknown, of another part of God which is then opened up to us. That’s the real desire of Isaiah and also the desire of Paul in proclaiming the mystery of God. The invitation today is to step beyond our own comfort. Maybe it is in service to someone different than myself that I have feared. The challenge is to not go into it with the intention to fix or someone change to your image and likeness, but low and behold, to maybe, just maybe, allow yourself to be changed. The more we fast from this fear and judgment and even malicious thoughts that Isaiah tells us about today, the more we are opened to hearts that are healed and vulnerable to a greater experience of love. In that we continue to grow into our call in being salt of the earth and light of the world.

#holyresistance

Zephaniah 2: 3; 3: 12-13;  I Cor 1: 26-31; Matthew 5: 1-12

I’m a Star Wars fan. I’ve seen them all and still believe that the originals from back in the 70’s and 80’s were some of the best. It is mythology at its best and transcends time. But we also often want to reduce it to a battle of good and evil or light and darkness. However, the main characters of the originals were not choosing sides. As a matter of fact, they were the resistant movement, including Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker. Now it’s not resistant in the way we want to use it today, in our politics. That’s more oppositional energy being exerted and often spending most of its time fighting rather than resisting, trying to seek another way.

The resistance movement were in many ways the wisdom figures. They tried to find truth in all things while what appears to be good and evil continues to fight. The archetypal character becomes Luke Skywalker in his training with Yoda. He wants to fight. He loves to fight! But Yoda keeps pushing him to a different place, to a place within himself and to see that the war he’s fighting the most lies within him, not just beyond him. This is the path to resistance, when he comes to a place where it’s no longer about choosing sides and winning and losing, but a path towards humility when he recognizes his own participation not only in bringing about good but also towards what he’s been fighting. It is the true path of resistance, a holy resistance.

It’s what this great Gospel is about today as we reflect upon the Beatitudes. There is a sense of humiliation in the current times, where there is poverty, there is mourning, war, violence, hunger, and persecution. They are the lived reality of the disciples and the people of Jesus’ time and of course of today. The resistance that Jesus proposes and the tension that lies within, is not to react to all of it and allow ourselves to enter into war after war. Certainly there is a place for opposition in the face of injustice, but the resistance movement of Star Wars is about finding another way. That’s what Christianity was about; it was about following the Way, not about choosing sides and fighting battle after battle. The opposition is typically only what I’m fighting within myself anyway. It will take the Cross before the disciples could begin to make sense of what these beatitudes were really about. The resistance we face is accepting this lived reality as it is but feeling that pull to a more just society, a more just life, an unfolding of the Kingdom.

Paul speaks of that oppositional energy today as he speaks of boasting and how that opposition often comes from our own pride. We want to prove ourselves to be right and the other wrong. Paul knows it because that was Paul. For him the cross becomes the point of resistance and the point when that begins to break down in his own life. He says the weak will shame the strong and the foolish will shame the wise. There is this breaking down and this entering into this interior journey for Paul that awakens him to this reality and to recognize that this battle is first fought within himself. He must face his own humiliation and the fact of how he persecuted, and even despite the good, Paul was still capable of unspeakable darkness towards humanity and to face that head on becomes his cross, becomes his place of transformation. For Paul it was no longer about winning and losing. That’s not the gospel anyway. It becomes about sitting with that resistance in these collision of opposites and finding another way.

It is also the roll of the prophetic voices that we hear throughout the year as it is with Zephaniah in today’s first reading. There is a great deal of opposition towards the new King Josiah at that time. They don’t like him. They don’t like what he’s doing and the reform he is bringing about, but the risk is always to fight and to become just like him. It is the warning of the prophets throughout Scripture. For him he too tries to lead them to this path of humility, by seeking justice and peace. Oppositional energy will eventually begin to fizzle and often cannot be sustained. What we seek is that resistance within ourselves as it was for our ancestors. This holy resistance is an invitation to ask ourselves the questions of our own lives and what it is God is trying to move us to letting go of and opening the door for the breaking in of the Kingdom. If anyone knows the reality of opposition it’s Israel. It’s part of their storied history and the invitation, as it is with Luke Skywalker, is to go within ourselves and look at our own injustice. Look at where we want to oppose and fight rather than seek a more just life, the common good. That is what our faith teaches us.

These are trying times for us individually and as country. Like Paul, our own pride often stands in the way, including our pride of who we think we are supposed to be as a country. It’s not the path of resistance and it certainly isn’t the path of humility that all the readings touch upon today. Whether we can admit it about ourselves or not, we all partake in the humiliation of our present age, we fight, we stand opposed, but we so often want it to end there. It leads to war and violence. It leads to division. It leads to winners and losers. I can’t say it enough; that’s not the gospel. The Gospel, especially the one we hear today, points us to another way. It points us to this holy resistance in our own lives, where it’s not about winning and losing, but a path to justice and peace. When I allow myself to go to that place within and learn to be patient with it, it will transform us. We will tap into that humility and become a more just person so, in turn, can move society to a more just place for all peoples.

Navigating Darkness

Matthew 2: 1-12

One of the movies I caught over the holidays was A Monster Calls. The story is about a young boy, Conor, who finds himself just overwhelmed by life and not able to take much more of it. His parents are divorced, he’s bullied at school because he’s become so isolated, and now the one consistency in his life, his mother, is dying of cancer. He has this ongoing nightmare where he feels as if life is slipping through his hands. There’s so much uncertainly that he lives in this constant state of fear, let along the anxiety and anger he’s experiencing because of this deep grief.

But he encounters this “monster” which is the tree outside in the cemetery that comes to life. Even that distracts him from the nightmare he’s used to. He begins to call upon it. He begins to realize that the “monster” isn’t out there in the cemetery, it’s deep within him. The monster keeps assuring him that he’s leading him to healing, to this deeper truth that gets lost in the darkness of despair and this ongoing lie that he’s holding onto that everything will be alright and his mother will somehow survive. He begins to learn how to navigate through the darkness that has so often consumed his life and learns to let go. It’s not easy for us adults let along a young boy trying to navigate.

This whole season has been allowing ourselves to wander and navigate that same darkness in our lives. Christmas does not expel the darkness nor does it somehow destroy it. We seem to operate in the world that we can get rid of it which only leads to greater darkness. These Magi we encounter today are learning to do the same in their lives. Even their navigation is a bit off, leaning on their own expectations of a king being born. They find themselves a few miles outside Bethlehem in Jerusalem, in what seems to be their final challenge in learning how to navigate this great darkness, the Herod that lies within.

Fear rules Herod and the land and it’s what the Magi now must face within themselves. He was a tyrant and often believed to have been paranoid in the end of his days. He too finds himself in a position where life seems to be slipping through his fingers and losing control. However, he doesn’t let it go. Rather, he takes it out on the most vulnerable, on the children and has them killed. It’s fear, darkness, and despair when it comes to Herod but a valuable lesson for the Magi seeking life, the newborn King. it’s a struggle for many of us, the darkness within ourselves that is so often easier to cast upon the other rather than learning how to navigate it all. Jerusalem will become that same place for the disciples as the story goes on. They too won’t understand the Christ until they first encounter that same darkness. It won’t come in the form of Herod but in the form of a crucifixion by others who are plagued by darkness. Jerusalem becomes the doorway to Bethlehem.

And so they find their way to the Christ. They offer their own gifts, in someways symbolic of their own journey and the darkness that they too had to confront. The journey to the Christ took them where they’d rather not go, where we would rather not go, but like God, we are often led without even knowing, into the great unknown, into this deeper reality of mystery. For young Conor and for the disciples, it was about seeking truth and truth leads to darkness and to life. He had to let go of what he knew. It was no longer about the head knowledge that we want to cling to and how it’s supposed to be or how we want it to be, but rather a deeper knowledge. It’s deeper knowing and truth that so often is beyond words but lies deep within, ever so gently navigating us through that very darkness that we have feared.

As this season of Christmas draws to a close, the journey really just begins. We’ll hear the call of the disciples to go deeper. We’ll hear the call to enter into this journey and to begin to learn to trust something deeper within themselves as they too are led to uncharted territory, where all that they have known begins to slip through their fingers. They will be left with the same choice as the Magi as the encounter the Christ. Do they leave it all at that crib, with great humility, life and death, or do they cling to what they can see, what they know, what they are comfortable with in life? It is what is asked of us as well. With God’s grace, we can learn to navigate the darkest of times, but we can’t deal with the darkness of the country or the world until we first begin to master it within ourselves. When we do, like the Magi, we can no longer go home the same way. The seeking of and finding of the Christ changes the course of our lives where we too go home by another way. It’s no longer about going home to what we know but into the unknown, into this deeper mystery. No, and not that physical place we call home, but deep in the recesses of our hearts and souls, ever so gently teaching and guiding us, while casting light, to navigate the darkness of our lives.

Humbling Connectedness

Sirach 3: 17-18, 20, 28-29; Hebrews 12: 18-19, 22-24; Luke 14: 1, 7-14

I don’t need to tell you that Jesus has this tendency to create tension wherever he goes. It’s as if conflict follows him into all these different situations. Today is no different. He stands, as the writer of Hebrews tells us today, the Mediator, between these two opposing realities.

There’s first the reality of the Pharisees. They are the center of religious power and a power that often went far beyond religion. They saw themselves in many ways as gods and the keeper of the law. Here he is in the leading Pharisees house on the Sabbath so naturally there’s going to be tension. He heals a guy which already counts as a strike against him and then begins to observe the actions of the Pharisees, who, on many levels, are oblivious to what’s going on and how their actions appear and speak to others.

Then there’s this other reality that he presents to them through the telling of parables and who should be invited to dinner. It’s the poor, the crippled, the lame, and every other outcast of society. It’s the people that have been ostracized by the pharisees for one reason or another. Yet, they are the ones that Mediator raises up in humility. So what makes their reality so unique? I’m not saying everyone because they too are human but the difference often comes in this deep connectedness that they have that goes beyond the community that they’ve been ostracized from, a deeper connection with what is bigger than themselves. They’ve had to learn because of their lives to have faith and put trust in the One that is bigger than themselves, as opposed to the pharisees whom often saw themselves as the ones that are bigger than the other.

All of this is the realities that Jesus steps into as Mediator and tries to find another way, a third way as it is often called, to bring together these opposing opposites. But we know not only from the time of Jesus but our own time as well that it just doesn’t seem to happen. When the people in authority and who hold the power are put into such a position they don’t want to budge. The buckle down and try to hold onto their power, which isn’t even real in the first place. Jesus brings up fear and uncomfortableness in their lives and of course becomes the scapegoat for their fear and uncomfortableness. He is a threat not only to them but to the system, the institution that they represent, and they become self-serving. It’s no longer about the people who are in touch with this deeper reality, it’s about holding on and trying to save something that isn’t real in the first place.

Now we know how it turns out. Eventually these systems even today must die. They know longer have the purpose they once had but that requires all of us to change. The pharisees isn’t just these guys back in the time of Jesus but they are me and they are you. We don’t like things to change but when the system no longer serves the most vulnerable and becomes self-serving, it’s lost it’s purpose. Like them, there is that part of us that wants to hold onto it. It’s the critic in ourselves that will do everything to prevent change and to try to sabotage anything new. When we don’t, we have what we have today, this sense of disconnectedness that exists between the ruling class, as it is with the pharisees, and become blinded by their own behavior, and what’s most importation, this deeper connection that we hold, this inherent dignity that comes from the Eternal Mediator that tries to reconcile these parts of ourselves to makes us whole, as individuals, community, city, and even country.

None of us can deny that the systems are broken in our Church and government. They may have had their place in a time but not anymore. Heck, even a few weeks ago Jesus threw the family institution into the mix as well. All of it is a voice crying out to be heard that is being ignored. Those in power want to continue to keep others at bay, to keep that disconnectedness, creating the violence we see in our own lives and beyond. The readings, though, today speak of humility. Humility is when we become aware of how we have allowed the pharisee in ourselves to lead us and disconnect us from our own humanity and the One bigger than ourselves. It’s is a dying to self and giving up that self for a greater good for the people, especially the most vulnerable. If we don’t take care of those that have been ostracized we have truly lost our way. We pray today for that humility in our lives, in our city, and certainly in this nation.

Pride has quite the way of taking hold of our lives and not wanting to let go, blinding us to those being called to the banquet as Jesus speaks of today. We have become so blinded by that in our own country and our hold to nationalism and other pharisaical ways that we become attached to in our lives. We pray for that humility to be able to sit with the tension in our own lives and to meet the Eternal Mediator in the heart of it all, calling us to let go and to connect with our deeper identity, our inherent dignity in Christ.

Parade of Heroes

Hebrews 11: 1-2, 8-19; Luke 12: 32-48

If you watched any of the Opening Ceremony at the Rio Olympics this week, you know one of the most impressive parts is the parade of athletes from all around the world. It’s the one time where the best of the best gather every four years. Although we’ve made it so much into winning and losing, as we do life, the ideal remains the same that the greatest honor is just having been chosen to participate. I was struck by one young man walking in who was just trying to hold back tears. He may never win anything, but he was chosen to participate and accepted that invitation.

I thought of that image when I read this second reading we hear today from the writer of Hebrews. Actually, it is probably worth a second or third reading for all of us it is so well crafted. This chapter in the Letter is often referred to as the Roll Call of the Heroes of Faith. In many ways, it’s the writers own version of the parade of athletes at the Olympics. It’s the best of the best of these iconic figures that have done something great by accepting their own invitation to something bigger than themselves, like those participating in the Olympics. However, one stark difference is that it isn’t only about participating in something bigger than themselves, it’s also a humility that this comes from some great depths within them and yet beyond them that is beyond explanation. It has nothing to do with athletic ability or anything like that. It has to do, as the writer tells us, about faith and a trust in that which we cannot see.

So we hear of two of the ancients today, Abraham and Sarah, whom we just heard about a few weeks ago with their own struggle to give birth to a child. Today the writer of Hebrews reflects on their lives and their uncanny ability to trust and deepen their faith in something they can’t see, this great mystery that keeps leading them to places that are beyond their imagination. You see, we probably spend to much of our lives trying to trust everything we can see and hear, holding onto so many things that are tangible or make us feel secure but fear allowing ourselves to go to a deeper place, below the surface and learn to trust the power of the Spirit already present within us. It’s the only thing that can explain their lives and why they are our ancestors in faith and stand as witnesses not only to something bigger than themselves, but also deeper than they could ever imagine.

How else do you explain their sojourn in the promised land as in a foreign country, or at times hopelessly wandering, or this idea that somehow God should give them what they want in the birth of a child. None of it seems to happen in their lives. Yet, they never give up. There is always this desire for more within them that keeps them going, trusting that this God will provide. Maybe their prayers won’t be answered the way they want them to be or think they should be, but in the face of such adversity, they don’t turn away only continue to fall deeper into this mystery and trust in this love that is beyond explanation.

But the disciples aren’t there yet. They still are seeing with their eyes and hearing with their ears and have not moved below the surface. That’s really why Peter even asks the question about whether what he is saying is meant for them. They can’t see a deeper meaning, or as Jesus says, where your heart is will be where you find your treasure. Until they can move to a place of trusting in what they can’t see it’s going to be hard to understand. Remember what it is that they are experiencing with political and religious authorities at that time where there was so much abuse of that power that so many feared them. They, of course, in turn feared Jesus because there was something different about him. Jesus, in some ways, in what seems to be a rather negative message, is trying to lead them to that deeper place. That’s not who they are to model their lives. It’s no different today. There remains corruption and mistrust in these authority figures because they so often don’t live from that interior place of faith and trust, in what we cannot see. It’s so often about the immediate and my own gratification that we don’t even allow ourselves to live into the adversities of our lives to learn to trust in something deeper and bigger.

At the same time, we learn from our own ancestors. We have a responsibility to the next generation and the generation after that, just as Abraham and Sarah did for their own. All of that impacts the way we live our lives. It doesn’t mean that it will look and sound the way it did for us. If it’s a living faith it can’t. But the heart of it remains eternal, our trust in this great mystery that is constantly calling us into the role call of heroes of faith. We mustn’t tell ourselves that it’s only for someone else. It’s the culture of blame and victimhood that we embrace all too often. This call is for all of us and all of us must model, as best we can, this faith into something bigger and yet deeper within ourselves. What do we do when we face such adversities in our own lives?

Maybe we can’t always understand Jesus and this call especially to take up the cross, but there are so many others in the roll call of heroes that show us the way. We understand unanswered prayers. We understand hurt, loneliness, and abandonment. We understand it all but when it comes our way, as it did for Abraham and Sarah, what are we going to do with it. They too show us the way on this pilgrim journey. When we allow ourselves to fall into it all, we find ourselves being suspended in mystery and learning to trust and deepen our faith so that like them we can be taken to the places that even seem unimaginable in our own lives.

The Outsiders’ View

Acts 13: 14, 43-52; Rev 7: 9, 14b-17; John 10: 27-30

There’s no denying that the early community in Acts goes through some serious growing pains in their time. I think it’s a good reason that we hear from Acts every Easter because it can assure us we’re no different but also remind us that change is real and the challenge that accompanies it is hard. Paul finds himself in that place today. I do think it’s also good to keep in mind that until the day of his own martyrdom, Paul considered himself part of the Jewish faith. Of course it eventually all splinters and Jews and Christians go their separate ways, but for Paul and the early disciples, that wasn’t the reality.

We hear that tension in the community today. How do we grow and how do we move forward is not only the question of Acts but it’s a question we must always ask ourselves today. There are always obstacles to those questions as there was for Paul. He saw no reason why this message should not be spread to the Gentiles. Again, keep some of our biblical knowledge at the forefront of our minds, there’s no denying that there was also a mutual mistrust and dislike between the Jews and Gentiles. Quite honestly, that still exists to this day. Paul, though, now finds himself part of this religion, as we would eventually call it, with people that considered themselves the chosen people, in some ways in a privileged place before God. That’s a tough place to be and even tougher for Paul to break through if there’s going to be change, considering he, himself, would be considered an outsider. He comes later to the faith.

With all that said, the stage is set for today’s first reading. There is this continued tension between insiders and outsiders and who, for whatever it’s worth, is worthy of this message that Paul speaks. The insiders feel it’s exclusively for them and everyone else is shut out. However, Paul feels otherwise. Now he eventually isn’t going to stand for it. He simply wipes the dust from his feet and goes on his way. But he faces the jealousy of the people and threaten his life in the process. They have no regards for him. He’s not one of them if he thinks that way. But if you know anything about Paul, it’s taken him time to get to this place when he has his own conversion experience. He encounters Christ crucified on the way to Damascus. He’s blinded and then begins to see life in a new way. He no longer looks at life from this place of privilege or better than, he now begins to look at life from the place of suffering and his own encounter with the cross.

Although we really don’t hear it in today’s gospel, Jesus is under much scrutiny himself at this point. The very next lines in the gospel the people are picking up stones to throw at him. He too, of course, is an insider to some extent but not from the place of privilege. He comes from Nazareth, born in Bethlehem, son of a carpenter, and not from Jerusalem. He already has that going against him, along with the fact that he was just with the Samaritan woman and eats and gathers with tax collectors, prostitutes, and sinners. Everything about this guy makes him an outsider. And now here he is in John’s gospel referring to them as sheep. The people who consider themselves in the place of privilege before God are now referred to in a way that links them to the the Gentiles, the Samaritans, and all other outsiders isn’t really going to go over all that well.

So here they are, the outsiders, trying to turn things on their heads and change the vision of the people of themselves and God. Both of them had this uncanny ability to be self-critical. Paul, certainly of himself, but also about the followers and the early communities. He had a way of turning it back on them which only infuriated them all the more and will lead to these splits. It’s hard to change those who consider themselves insiders and in a place of privilege because they don’t think they’re the ones that need to change. It’s so often not about an encounter with Christ but their own agenda. That’s a hard place to be. But Paul models it so well for us in our own lives. It comes down to fear and it comes down to our judgments. We all know that it typically doesn’t hurt the other. Our fear and judgment hurts us much more because it holds us back and makes us stuck. It becomes our sin. No one knows that better than Paul. He murdered. He persecuted. But in his moment of conversion, he begins to realize it’s not about the others that have been excluded, it’s about himself and what he had hated about himself that needed to change. That’s where Christ crucified meets him. That becomes one of his greatest gifts. The one who was on the outside becomes an insider with a critical eye but never forgets what it’s like as an outsider. It’s why Pope Francis often says about going out to the fringes. That’s where we’re changed, otherwise we turn in on ourselves and get stuck.

Change is the reality of our lives even if we don’t like it while it’s happening. It’s especially hard on those who come as insiders and consider themselves in a place of privilege. Quite honestly, all of us here are prey to that kind of thinking. We are the people Paul is critical of in those early communities. However, if we only look through that one lens we don’t grow. Paul, and certainly the Good Shepherd who too was Lamb, invites us to change the way we view our lives and the world, not from the place of privilege, but from the Cross. Today we pray for that awareness in our own lives, to have that self-critical eye of our own blind side and were we exclude in our own lives, either in community or individually. It will reveal our own fear and judgment. But like Paul, it’s where Christ crucified meets us to open our blinded eyes to a new way of seeing, from the place of the Cross. They are the ones that have survived the time of great distress that we hear of in Revelation today, who persevere in the face of adversity, surrendering their place of status and privilege, to become a new creation in Christ.

Running Naked

Philippians 2; The Passion According the Mark

Like most artists, Mark finds a way to leave his own mark on his work of art in this gospel we hear from this year, and in particular, this passion narrative. There’s one thing unique if you picked up on it in this account and it happens in the garden. Out of nowhere, a man who has followed, appears in a linen cloth and runs away naked. It is believed that that young man represents not only the gospel writer Mark but each of us. From the beginning the command of Jesus is to “follow me”. Yet, when the going gets tough for the disciples, they scatter in different directions. They can’t handle the pressure. They can’t handle what is being asked of them and rather than passing through the narrow path which we call the Cross, they turn back and run, hide for their lives.

But this man shows us a different way. He has continued to follow but now leaves the garden naked. Seems rather odd that it would even be included in the gospel, other than it being Mark’s own “signature”. What Mark shows us is that if we are to accept the challenge to follow, and to follow through the narrow path, we must do so naked. We must be stripped of all that holds us back, all that’s weighing us down, all our fears and anxieties, anything that stands in the way for it is only Love that sees us through.

Paul tells the same in the second reading from Philippians. There is a transition that takes place from acts of humiliation done upon Jesus to the great act of humility of being hung naked on the cross. So what do we do when we stand before it? Sure, we stand in awe and we worship. On Good Friday we will venerate. But isn’t some of that doing just as the disciples did and even what our culture expects of us; to stop short of falling into the narrow path to life, of facing the great suffering of the Cross? Jesus is asking more of each of us, to not simply stop and gaze but also step into that narrow path, leading to the life that is promised.

As we enter into this Holy Week, we pray for the courage and strength to allow ourselves to enter into it fully. It takes a great deal of our time, a great deal of self-examination, and a great deal of trust to enter into these days. Mark reminds us how to come and approach this Cross. We stand before the Lord naked, in all of our own insecurities and in all our brokenness, grasping all that we have held onto and inviting us to let it go, surrender it into the Great Mystery, and allow ourselves to fall into, with great courage and strength, Love, so that we may be led down and through the narrow path to the fullness of life, a life filled with meaning, that the Lord has promised. Naked we have come forth and naked we will return, but now filled with the hope of Easter Sunday.