April 3, 2014

Sometimes when I read the Gospel, I try to imagine what it must have been like to be there, with Jesus, at the moment or event being recounted. In today’s Gospel we encounter Jesus and his disciples “on the road” to the villages of Caesarea Philippi.  Jesus asked them to report to him on people’s perception of him, and his disciples’ perception.  To paraphrase, while the public sees him as a prophet, the disciples clearly know him to be the Messiah. Jesus sternly orders them to keep his true identity a secret and “don’t tell anyone about me.”  Clearly he knows trouble lies ahead.

Jesus then breaks the bad news to his loyal followers: that soon he will be rejected by the religious leaders, undergo great suffering and be put to death.  He also informs them that three days later, he will rise again. 

The reading doesn’t go into detail about the disciples’ reaction, but can you imagine this scene?  They must have been “beside themselves” to say the least.  Many of us can certainly remember times where we have been on the receiving end of horrible news, and the helplessness that often accompanies these moments.  Is the part about rising again in three days going to even sink in with them?  I would guess they had all witnessed a death or dealt with losing a loved one - they could probably wrap their heads around that.  But a resurrection? This most likely did little to soften the blow of Jesus’ prediction. Being in that place at that very moment, I wonder if the “3 days” part of Jesus’ announcement even registered, never mind offer any consolation to this devastating news.  How do you come to terms with that?  Did they even believe him? Knowing this, Jesus tells the guys that it’s time to start thinking very differently about this life, and the next one.  He tells the disciples, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things, but on human things.”  Jesus then addresses a crowd and proclaims “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” 

In our faith, we are blessed with the belief in eternal life.  When we lose loved ones or witness tragedy on the nightly news, we turn to this faith as a way to guide and comfort us. The disciples didn’t have that luxury – they had to take Jesus at his word, and what a leap of faith for them.  “The keys to the kingdom are yours,” is a saying that people in my family love to proclaim when eulogizing a family member.  We focus on the “divine things” as a way to comfort us in times of loss.   At that moment, on the way to Caesarea Philippi, little did the disciples know that they would be among the first to witness the transformation of darkness to light; despair to joy.

Lent is a time for us to reflect on how fragile “this life” can be, and on the glory that awaits.   In closing, please allow me to share this Henry Van Dyke piece - another family favorite! And let us all thank God for the divine things… 

“I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad
shout;
"Here she comes!"

-          Phil King