Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent
Our Gospel passage always cuts me to the quick. I find myself shocked and outraged at the audacity of James’ and John’s mother and her disregard for Christ’s revelation of his Passion. And yet I recognize myself in her. Sorrowfully I must admit my own selfishness, self-centeredness, and propensity to seek to elevate myself. As we meditate upon and contemplate today’s Gospel, let us insert ourselves into this story. And may I invite you to identify with this mother and her sons. Consider the ways in which their tendencies are your own. Then, let us gather at the foot of the Cross to not only find forgiveness for our preoccupation with self but also to allow Christ to raise us up in authentic elevation.
Jesus reveals his pending Passion in specific detail. Picture yourself as the mother in this scene.
Jesus: “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.”
Mother: “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.”
Doesn’t that hit you hard in your gut?! It does mine. Apparently, all the mother heard was the “raised on the third day.” Do we not take Jesus for granted at times, too? We want resurrection without suffering, new life without sacrifice, divine favor without seeking to do God’s will. Imagine standing in front of Jesus as the mother did, after hearing him reveal the extent of his sacrificial love and making such a selfish demand. And yet we do it all the time . . .
We make ourselves the centers of our own universe. We want our own way, in our own timing, according to our plan. Forgetting that all our needs are met in God through Christ, we grasp at things constantly – we grasp, trying to find fulfillment, desperate to meet our perceived needs and satisfy our desires and appetites. We have a need for acceptance, a need for status, a need for recognition, a need to be right, a need to be admired . . . We refuse to forgive,we criticize, judge, and condemn, we exclude others, we harbor grudges . . . We set ourselves up in order to be seen as superior, even at times in our spiritual lives.
Jesus predicted his Passion to those gathered that day in Matthew’s account. Let us go to the Cross today. Stand at the foot of the Cross and gaze up at the One who suffered, bled, and died for us. If you have a Crucifix in your home, perhaps you can contemplate it for a while in prayer. At the Cross, let us surrender our self-serving and selfish tendencies. Let us confess any sin of pride or self-aggrandizement. Let us lay down the list of demands that we might ordinarily be tempted to make. Let us surrender our wills to the perfect will of the Father. Then, let us pray for the grace to receive the new life that Christ offers us, the divine life that his resurrection and ascension make possible for us. Let us bask in and be washed in the unending flow of sacrificial, unconditional love. Let us take Christ’s hand and allow him to raise us up to abundant life in him. May we know that our every need is met in Christ. At the foot of the Cross, let us
cease our striving and grasping for earthly things that can never truly satisfy. May all our selfish needs and tendencies be washed away in the flow of love.
St Thomas Aquinas said, “humility is truth.” A fundamental truth is God is God and we are creatures. We have no claim to self-elevation, no right to demand things of God. Paradoxically, humility is the pathway to elevation. In yesterday’s Gospel, we heard Jesus say, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
When God lifts us up, shows us our true selves, and sets us on the path of authentic discipleship, it’s a greater, joyful, and more liberating journey than we could ever manufacture for ourselves by being self-seeking and self-serving.
The hymn, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, comes to mind. Perhaps it can form our closing prayer.
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it Lord that I should boast
Save in the death of Christ my Lord
All the vain things that charm me most
I sacrifice them to His blood.
See from His head His hands His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did ever such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were an offering far too small
Love so amazing so divine
Demands my soul my life my all.
-Elizabeth Wells