Is there any pain more wounding than that of one whose selfless, unconditional love is rejected? A son or daughter leaves home in anger. A spouse cuts himself off from years of marriage. A teacher tries desperately to reach an unreachable student, only to be lied about and thus losing her reputation. The Holy One selects a disciple named Judas and lavishes three years of comradeship and teaching upon him, to say nothing of His hopes for leadership in His kingdom. Then at one last meal with one last effort:

Go quickly, Judas, go quickly, for I cannot bear the pain of seeing you whom I love smothering in guilt. The crushing agony of empathy for you engulfs me as I offer you this dipped bit of food, the only food that I can offer since you refuse the banquet of my Body. Take this morsel, for I ache for your hunger. Go quickly. If we do not meet again, I want you to be with me this day in paradise.

On the night of the Last Supper after Jesus and the apostles sang, they went to the Garden of Gethsemani. I imagine that Jesus went to this garden for the comfort it would give him when humans slept in indifference. Perhaps Gethsemani was Jesus’ favorite garden, its olive trees supporting his back as he came there to prepare parables or rest after a hot afternoon of teaching. This was the last night that Jesus would come to this garden. Could he have been thinking:

Ah, Gethsemani! I will know the crush of the olive press as you have known it. I will know as you have often taught me what it is to be life poured out. I will miss you, your fragrance, your gnarled and twisted trunks, your sweet water, your rock on which I now pray. Prostrate, I cling to you. Oh, Gethsemani, support me as I pray, “Abba, Abba! I am afraid, afraid!”

We read with indignation that Judas stole from the common purse. How could he betray the trust of Jesus and the other apostles? We would never do such a thing–or would we?

The common purse of Earth’s resources is entrusted to us. How do we use the contents? Do we open the purse strings just a little, surreptitiously taking a small coin when we waste water, answer “plastic” to the grocery store’s ubiquitous “Paper or plastic?” or neglect to unplug appliances? As a developed country, do we just help ourselves to large amounts? Are we betraying our brothers and sisters through our gluttonous use of resources?

Are we remembering that God holds the purse? Earth belongs to God whose Son’s parables demand that we use what we receive and multiply the “talents.”

“He went away again across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing earlier, and he remained there.”  John 10:40 NRSV

Jesus was a marked man. He would have been arrested had he not “escaped from their hands.” Jesus went across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing. Perhaps he went to draw strength at the place where he was anointed by the Spirit and to hear in the water the echo of his Father’s words, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” In a sense, Jesus returned to his origins, the place where his ministry began. It was good to return after all the hassle of teaching, preaching, curing, and in the process upsetting the authorities. For whatever reason, Jesus returned to the water, and we imagine he was rejuvenated by the people who “came to believe in him.”

Sometimes we don’t think of Jesus as someone in need, but, fully human, he was needy. It was good to be believed; it was good for the Son of Man who had nowhere to lay his head to be “home.”

 When you need your spirit rejuvenated, what do you do? What is “home” for you? Lent is a baptismal season. Perhaps reflect on your baptismal promises. How have you lived your original commitment?

“How can you believe what I say?”

John 5:47

Leo Buscaglia claims that “you can’t learn anything without having to readjust everything that you are around the new things that you’ve learned.” The Jews to whom Jesus speaks in today’s gospel are unwilling to readjust. They accepted the testimony of Moses, but not that of Jesus and his Father. They could have searched the scriptures to determine Jesus’ authenticity, but their minds were closed. They accepted someone who comes in his own name but did not accept someone who came in his Father’s name. They relished praise from one another, “yet [did] not seek the glory that comes from the One God.”

 How willing are we to learn new things and readjust the old? Do we allow people to change? When we hear good things about someone we dislike, do we rearrange our resentments to let in the good news, or do we say “it can’t be true”? When we receive affirmation, do we accept it or deny our gifts? When new people or circumstances come into our lives, do we make room? Are we willing to change when change deepens our life of faith? If we’re unwilling to change, will we have the capacity to believe the new things God wishes to tell us?

Lord, help me to readjust.

Did you ever notice that when you’re fully engaged in an activity, you rarely lose energy; and if you do, it’s a good kind of tiredness? In your home, in your church, in your everyday activities, are you fully engaged? If so, you’ll find yourself becoming stronger, more energized—actually even more engaged.

Those who are fully engaged in their faith, allowing it to be involved in every aspect of their lives find satisfaction in life. Belief in religious truths does not automatically make a person spiritually committed. We need to incorporate our beliefs in our daily lives. Statistically only one in seven people are fully spiritually committed (Gallup Poll). Can we raise that percentage by helping people do what they do best? When people are permitted to do what they do best, they are nearly three times more likely to be engaged.

What are your talents and strengths? What are the talents and strengths of your family and friends? What do you and they love to do? Just do it.

Rejection is the deepest thorn, the longest nail, the heaviest cross. It pushes me toward self-doubt, uncertainty, and fear. I stand on the outside and look in.

I can empathize with Jesus who was rejected repeatedly. He invited a rich young man to follow him, but the call was rejected. His disciples betrayed him, abandoned him, and denied him. Crowds yelled “Crucify him!”  He was called a devil, and he was run out of town. Worst of all, he experienced becoming sin and feeling abandoned by his Father. The rejection that emptied him, that scraped his soul, that exhausted his spirit did not make him bitter or resentful. Rather his response ever was and ever will be unconditional love, unconditional acceptance.

Acceptance is cool water on a hot day, a warm blanket and fire on a winter night, festive food, a meaningful hug. Acceptance allows me to be who I am and want to be more. I feel secure, surrounded by love.

Demonstrate acceptance today. Someone will be glad you did.

An Inconvenient Truth by Al Gore and our unusual winter weather suggest that we need to apologize to God and Planet Earth for the misuse of land, water, and air. The dangers of climate change should be a call to prayer and action.

Let us pray:

Creator God, we praise and thank you for creation. Your infinite creativity abounds, and we know only a tiny portion of the numerous species of flowers, plants, insects and animals. Help us preserve every creature, even the tiniest, from extinction. Give us the wisdom to find alternative fuels and resources so as not to deplete the earth’s bounty. Deliver us from the tragic mistakes we’ve made through pollution and waiting too long to stop the ruin of ecology. Forgive us, and help us today to ensure a tomorrow.

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”      

Matthew 25:40 NRSV

How can you tell if you really love God? Is there any way of knowing whether you’re on the road to holiness? Today’s Gospel from Matthew, the story of the Last Judgment, gives us the answers by putting an equal sign between your love for God and your love for your neighbor.

Is your neighbor hungry? Feed him. Is your sibling thirsty? Give her a drink. Do you have relatives who are ill? Visit them. These simple common-sense acts of love toward others equal love of God. Your love for God is measured by the concrete love expressed to your neighbor. Do we take seriously the fact that what we do for one of the least, we do for God? Conversely, do we realize that what you do for God affects ourselves and the rest of the world?

Will someone know God’s compassion today because of me?  The Christian life is one of service; its reward is heaven. Someday we will hear “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink.”  (Mt. 25:35)

Remember Levi?  Yes, that one—the tax collector. I really like that guy. He had a profession, a lucrative position, the esteem of his colleagues. Yet when he heard “Follow me,” he left everything. Levi’s decision was a step down the socio-economic ladder, one that took away much of his security. Perhaps his family thought he had gone mad. Yet in the midst of Levi’s decision to let go of everything to follow Jesus, he threw a party. The “great reception” deadened the pain perhaps, or he just wanted to enjoy himself one more time before his money ran out.  For whatever reason, Levi celebrated.

Lord, when you call “Follow me,” help me to respond at least half-heartedly. Then throw a little party. Discipleship is something to celebrate.