Friday in the Octave of Easter
My husband and I were overjoyed to have our daughter Gabriella baptized at the Easter Vigil last Saturday. The Vigil is so jam-packed with evidence of the goodness of God's salvation in Jesus Christ that we wanted Gabriella to enter the church on this most holy day of the year. There is something amazing, too, about being baptized along with so many others. Jesus once said that the Kingdom of God is like yeast that is mixed in with flour and then set to rise (Luke 13:20-21). The Church rises like that yeast, becomes bubbly and frothy and full of life, and that reality is so present when we witness something like all those baptisms and confirmations. At one point I was struck by the fact that these children and adults who were baptized that night too will, thank God, be helping to raise this baby in the faith. We help each other stumble toward the grace of God.
I have learned to expect a letdown, or maybe just plain old tiredness and exhaustion, after such a big event. So I was surprised, instead, to find myself in shock. "What just happened here?" I've been asking myself. What does it mean - not only that this baby has been baptized into the life, death, resurrection and glorification of Jesus - but that Jesus himself rose from the dead? So often, we Christians forget the reality and cost of baptism because we're used to thinking of it as a cute event in a baby's life: a little water sprinkled, a baby's cry, an adorable white outfit, the oohs and aahs of the adults. So being baptized with adults and children has other benefits too, especially by remembering that in baptism, we are all called to life with Jesus. Discipleship is not cute - it is not an easy road but it is a wonderful road.
"What just happened here?" Because I've been asking that question all week, that's the way I've been reading this week's scriptures and I feel like I get to experience the some of the same astonishment the disciples must have encountered too.
I'm just tickled by the fact that Peter, who remember, just last week denied Jesus three times - is here (Acts 4:1-12) speaking confidently about Jesus of Nazareth. He utterly affirms that this Jesus - the same one who was crucified - is the one who is ultimately responsible for their ability to heal people - and even more than that, Jesus is responsible for the salvation of the whole world. He is a totally changed man: a joyful man, a man with purpose, a man willing to face adversity even in the face of others' accusations.
"The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone." Peter quotes from the same psalm that we hear at today's mass. THAT is what has happened: the things we thought were torn up,thrown away, useless, come to have utmost importance. God is the ultimate packrat and recycler - we humans should be prepared to be surprised and astonished by the ways God will use us - even those of us who have tried to forget that God exists (like Peter).
"What just happened here?" The disciples in today's Gospel (John 21:1-14) don't dare ask this question. That's not because they're afraid to ask this question but because they already see with their own eyes that things have changed, that something HAS happened. Jesus' death and resurrection change things. Note that the changes are small: there are no earthquakes, no lightning strikes, no big events here. Rather, there are suddenly lots of fish in their nets and then they go and do the very ordinary thing of eating breakfast. And yet, they know. Things have changed.
If we're looking for evidence of the resurrected Jesus in big, broad events, I suspect we'll be disappointed. The resurrected Jesus is rather to be found in the changed ways people respond to their family, friends, and enemies and in the new sense of purpose they have, much like Peter did. Jesus will be in everyday things like breakfasts and lakes and gardens. And it will only be when we train our eyes to what God is asking us to see in those ordinary events we would rather reject, that we'll be able to answer the question, "What just happened here?"
- Jana M. Bennett