Pontifical North American College
Monday of Holy Week
Rev. Kurt Belsole, OSB
April 15, 2019
Yesterday, with Palm Sunday, we entered into what has been called the kairós par excellence—the true time of the Lord’s intervention in history.
And yesterday, in the gospel, we encountered the city of Jerusalem in a sort of uproar—greeting the Lord who enters into his own city astride a colt—people spreading their cloaks on his path—and then the whole of the Lord’s passion and death taking place in the Holy City.
Today is much different—and much calmer. The gospel places us in the intimate and friendly atmosphere of the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus in Bethany.
But before we get there, it might be good to reflect on the reading that precedes it:
- In the first reading, we hear the voice of the Father
supporting and sustaining his Son—not
saving him from his Hour, but confirming him in his mission:
- From the Prophet Isaiah we heard: Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one with whom I am pleased, upon whom I have put my Spirit . . . I, the Lord, have called you for the victory of justice . . . To bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.
- And then, as in a dialogue, the Son responds in the
Responsorial Psalm—in a sense he repeats his fiat—not my will, but your
will be done—as Christ conquers the fear that is due to the fragility of
the human nature that he has taken upon himself:
- From Psalm 27: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear?. . . Though war be waged against me, even then will I trust . . . I believe that I shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the Lord.
- The fear of the enemy and the anxiety of the imminent Passion—are actually ours not his—they are a result of the Incarnation—and he asks for help and comfort—because that is what we need in the many challenges of our human condition.
Finally, in the gospel, we enter into the warmth of friendship—and Jesus takes part in the final supper offered by his friends, Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. Beyond the supper, however, is the exquisite finesse of true hospitality. Mary anoints and perfumes the Lord’s feet—and the fragrance fills the house. That is certainly nice. But between friends, something was more important than the perfumed oil that filled the house. Much more precious than the genuine aromatic nard was the presence of the Lord—their close friend—and his presence filled the house. What seemed to the traitor Judas to be too much—between friends was really too little.
Sadly, in the midst of this gathering of intimate friendship was the presence of that disciple who was a thief and a traitor. For Christ, his passion has, in a certain sense, already begun, in what should have been the warmest of gatherings, and one might call this his First Station on his Way of the Cross.
For us, we all are poor in our love of Christ—and we may have even betrayed him. Nonetheless, he comes to us constantly, even now, in order to find a Bethany where he can rest among friends –even though he accepts the risk of being refused or betrayed.
He always wants to be more intimate to us than we are to ourselves—and his motive is always to fulfill the mission that comes to him from the Father—even if it means betrayal and the cross. It is that mission that we commemorate this week—with gratitude beyond all measure.
All glory be to him now and forever. Amen.