Gospel Commentary May 10, JN 14:1-12
One of the hardest lessons to learn is that your life is not
about you. One could even say that to understand that idea is the secret of
living. We were designed by God to give ourselves away in acts of
self-forgetfulness, and we will never know happiness until we learn to do so. A
light was made to shine. A fish was made to swim. A bird was made to fly. And a
human person was made to live for God, and for others. Our sadness and anxiety
only increase whenever we imagine our lives to be a grand self-actualization
project — as if we were created only to
serve our personal ambitions and to make all our dreams come true. As the
Second Vatican Council states, “Man cannot fully find himself except through a
sincere gift of himself” (“Gaudium et Spes,” 24).
Like most every beautiful idea, however, this is very easy to
ponder but quite difficult to practice. An abstract idea has never been strong
enough to change a human heart. Only the love of another person has the power
to do that. That’s why the strength of the Christian faith derives not from a
lofty idea, but from the person of Jesus Christ, whose passion, death and
resurrection are the definitive evidence of the truth of his words.
On the night before he died, Jesus spoke to his apostles the
beautiful message we hear in the Gospel this week, “I am the way and the truth
and the life” (Jn 14:6). No other leader in history ever dared to speak like
that. Many civic leaders have said, in effect, “Follow me, and I will show you
the way,” but only Christ says, “I am the way.” Many religious leaders have
said, “Listen to my teaching. I speak the truth,” but only Jesus says, “I am
the truth.” Many great social reformers have said, “Learn from me. I can help
you live a better life,” but only Jesus says, “I am the life.” Notice that
Jesus proclaims himself to be not one way among many, or one truth among many,
or one way of living, but exclusively the way, the truth and the life.
Such absolute terms may seem to be anathema to a culture such as
ours, steeped in relativism, but it is precisely the clarity of Jesus’ words
that frees us to act on them, and empowers us to escape the shallow confines of
a selfish existence. Moreover, in this same Gospel, Jesus tells his apostles, “Do
not let your hearts be troubled or afraid … have faith in me.” This he says
just hours before he will be arrested, mocked, imprisoned, scourged, crucified
and sealed in a tomb. Notice how these words are spoken in the imperative
voice. This is a commandment, not a suggestion. By what authority does Jesus
enjoin us to be free from discouragement and anxiety, at the very moment in
which we would otherwise be most tempted to succumb to them? The answer is to
be found in the empty tomb. Easter Sunday is the definitive proof that our
faith is not founded on naive optimism or wishful thinking, but on the
extraordinary work which God has done in Jesus Christ. It's why his triumph
over death is the spiritual bedrock on which our faith is built.
It’s been said that the Christian story is the only story in the
world which must be read backwards in order to be understood. Only when we
begin with Jesus risen from the dead do we then see the meaning of his suffering
and death, the authority of his teaching, and the importance of every word he
spoke. It's why St. Paul urged the Colossians to “be rooted in him” (Col 2:7).
Pope Emeritus Benedict once wrote, “Being Christian is not the result of an
ethical choice or a lofty idea, but an encounter with a person.” To lose
ourselves in the encounter with that person —
to become Christ centered instead of self-centered — is to discover the
taproot of joy, and to understand at last who God has created us to be.
Fr. Hudgins is pastor of St. Jude Church in
Fredericksburg.