Daniel 12:1-3 + Psalm 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11 + Hebrews 10:11-14, 18 + Mark 13:24-32
Delivered at Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Mustang, OklahomaWhen listening to Mark’s Gospel, you must always remember the people to whom this life-giving Word of God was first addressed. Mark writes for the Christian community in Rome in the 1st Century during a time of great persecution, during a reign of terror. Because of the violent persecution of the Christians in Rome, they feel like the world as they know it is coming to an end. The day seems to be as dark as night. The stars no longer seem to shine in the sky. The Emperor Nero and his soldiers make sport of the Christians in the Coliseum. They become food for the lions to the blood-thirsty cries of the crowd.
During this darkest of times for Christians in and around
Rome, Mark shares the Good News of Jesus Christ, reminding them of the
centrality of the Cross. For those who would question, “Why is this happening?”
the Evangelist, through the words of Christ, would remind his community: They
are asking the wrong question. The real question goes much deeper — “What does
it mean? What does it mean?” And the suffering and dying of Jesus, the Son of
God, sheds light, gives an answer that brings meaning to a time of seeming
meaninglessness.
Because in His love for the world the Son of God gives His
life completely on the Cross so that the Cross no longer becomes an instrument
of terror, but a sign of hope; because death does not have the last word, life
does, as the darkness of the Cross gives way to the never-ending day of the
Resurrection. And so Jesus teaches His followers: Only in losing one’s life
does one find it, only in giving it away does one receive it back more full
than ever before.
The question also those first Christians had to answer, and
every Christian community since that time who walked through dark days: “Who are we going to become? Who are we going
to become because of this suffering, this trial, this terror, this seeming
darkness?”, which again is why the Cross
is at the very center of Mark’s Gospel. We’ve heard it during this year of Mark:
Chapter 8, Chapter 9, and Chapter 10—three predictions of the Passion, the
dying of Christ and His Resurrection. Three times those very first disciples,
Peter, James, John, the rest—they struggle to understand, they wrestle to comprehend
what this means, what the mystery of the Cross means. And Jesus continues to
patiently teach them and us that it’s only in following Him along the Way of
the Cross, this suffering, self-giving love, that we become something more,
that our lives become something more. For the temptation whenever the world
seems to be crumbling around us, whenever we think what was certain as sunlight
or starlight has vanished from sight, the temptation is to become a people
swallowed up by fear and in this darkness to go even deeper into a more
profound darkness of violence and despair.
The words of Jesus, spoken first to Peter, James, John,
Andrew and the rest, and to those first Christians in Rome suffering and dying,
and to all Christians since, the words of Jesus give us strength today to
become something more than we ever thought we could be, so that we do not give
up this Pearl of Great Price—hope itself—and give in to despair. So that we do
not lose the hidden treasure of faith and give in fear, so that we do not give
in to fear so that we will not abandon the way of love to walk in the never-ending
darkness of hatred.
Because those first Christians persevered in faith, hope and
love, even though the world was anew, it seemed to be coming to an end. A new
world was born, so that 2,000 years later on the very ground on which they
spilled their blood, Popes have walked the Way of the Cross during Holy Week as
the way of life, so that the very city that tried to swallow them alive is now
the headquarters to the largest Christian church in the world, over 1 billion
strong.
We can relate to the Christians in Rome who first heard this
word of the Lord passed on to them by the Evangelist Mark. Since the dawn of
the millennium fifteen years ago and the promise of a whole new world, what we
have experienced instead at times is the darkness of terror and everything we
thought to be solid, to no longer be so. From 9/11 on our own American soil to
the terrible evil perpetrated in Paris this past Friday, we have lived through
some very dark days. In Paris, the City of Light, many people now feel like darkness
has enveloped them. They fear to go out to eat at their favorite restaurant, or
to their stadiums to cheer on their favorite soccer team, or even just to go to
a concert and delight in the sheer pleasure of music. The City of Light now
seems to be swallowed by the power of darkness. But that is what the enemy
wants us to believe: The temptation that the Great Tempter of humankind wants
us to fall into, the temptation to believe that the powers of evil have won the
day is great.
Even in our own land, where senseless violence at times
seems to make no place safe—workplace or home or even churches. But it is not
only terror and violence out there that shakes our world, that tempts us to
despair—it is also in our own personal lives whenever the darkness of loss
overshadows our day. Not just the loss of someone deeply loved to death, but whenever
we lose our job, our very life’s work that we enjoy, or a person close to us whom
we have loved for many years betrays our trust, or when a parent strong and
sure for many years loses all their strength or even their ability to recognize
us anymore. At those times, we can feel like we walk in never-ending night,
that we have lost our way and everything which was now solid seems to be as shifting
as sand. Everything that was once certain, now shot through with uncertainty.
Yes, we can relate to those first disciples at the center of
Mark’s Gospel, that first Christian community in Rome as well, and Christians
of all ages who have struggled with the darkness of suffering and sorrow and
wonder how the Good News of the Gospel sheds light on all of that. That is why week
after week after week, we come here to remember, to remember, to remember a
whole new world has already begun with the Resurrection of Christ—the world as
we know it and all its troubles truly passing away. The powers of this world destroyed
forever by the power of the Resurrection of the Lord. In fact, on that Good
Friday when sun went dark at noon, those powers ended and the day a tomb broke
open and the Risen Jesus appeared with a life that no one could ever take from
Him again, a new age was born.
This one who is the living Word of God, the Word of God in
flesh, reminds us that all that we think has passed away is really in God’s
hands, and all those who thought that He had passed away forever from their
lives, to know that He lives forever and by the power of the Spirit, He walks
at our side every day, encouraging us and enlightening us in times of darkness
and the temptation to despair, because He knows in the depths of His bones,
fully human like us, what it means to feel like one’s life is enveloped by darkness.
Even the deepest darkness of all, to feel like one has been abandoned by God.
Why else the words from the Cross, in Mark’s Gospel, “My God, my God, why have
you abandoned me?”
He who was sustained by the life-giving words of God, who
perhaps prayed this very Psalm that sustains us today in our worship, trusting
that His Father would indeed show Him the path to life even though in the midst
of suffering and dying, struggling to find the way; to trust that somehow the
Father would provide fullness of joy in His presence to His faithful ones—a joy
that could never, ever be taken away. And in doing so to delight forever at the
right hand of the Father, for He is there in glory. And He summons us there to
be with Him, not only interceding for us every day when our world seems to
crumble around us, but drawing us to Himself by the power of His love and
reminding us that there is always more than what we can see in front of us, that
by the light of faith, knowing that He walks with us, drawing us every day more
into a more abundant life, a more profound peace, and a deeper joy—for He is
the Living Word who will never pass away.
Father Joseph Jacobi