The words of Peter, yet the voice of God- Monday, in the Octave of Easter- Acts 2:14, 22-33

The book of Acts primarily focuses on the growth of the Church and that is why on the first day after Easter, the lectionary takes us to Chapter two which is Pentecost Sunday. The central importance of Pentecost is the Spirit’s transformation of the Church into a community of prophets (2:18).

The context of today’s text is simple. Peter is addressing the Jews of the Diaspora who have now settled in Jerusalem. These were men, who at one time made a foreign land their home, and now having returned to Jerusalem, have carried the language of their adopted homes to Jerusalem. It is they who hear the first public proclamation that is made in Acts by Peter.

We will hear the narration that unfolds on Pentecost (Greek word of fiftieth) on its feast (fifty days from now).  But for now, we will focus on a part of what Peter said on Pentecost Sunday, which is in turn a part of the Easter message for Easter and Pentecost, forming one composite unit of the Easter celebrations!

For the Jews, Pentecost was an annual agrarian pilgrimage that they celebrated fifty days after the feast of unleavened bread or Passover. One can now understand better why the apostles have gathered in Jerusalem – they, like the rest, are Pilgrims, although a bit lost without their Master. But it is in this room that the Holy Spirit descends in a rush of wind and flaming tongues of fire.

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Is seeing believing? – A reflection on the Easter Sunday morning Gospel- John 20: 1-8

Even though our text ends at verse 8, it would do well to read this Gospel passage up to verse 18, for in these verses is found the story of faith in the resurrection, as experienced by Mary Magdalene. Interestingly, all the four Gospels mention Mary Magdalene, though each may vary in their narration.

The Gospel of John begins the story of Easter Sunday, ‘while it was still dark’ in contrast to the Synoptic Gospels ( Matthew, Mark and Luke) who situate it at dawn. For John’s Gospel, the element of light and darkness plays a very important role, and Jesus ‘the light of the world’ will be perceived as such, much later in time by His disciples, whose hopes have been dashed in darkness as a consequence of His crucifixion. Mary walks to the tomb in that darkness, for the light of the resurrection has not yet dawned on her.

It is interesting that the Gospel tells us that Mary simply “saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb”. She has not peered into it, nor does the promise of rising on the third day dawn upon her. Belief is yet to come for Mary and that, as we will read, will appear at twilight.

She runs to the Simon Peter and the ‘beloved disciple’, stating what she thinks has happened. Without mentioning a name, she places her assumptions that Jesus’ body has been stolen, by the most apparent suspects – the Romans or the Jewish authorities. But interestingly she uses the plural when she says “we do not know where they have laid him”. It almost appears that she wants to play her narration safe.

What follows has often been made to sound like a story of ‘one-upmanship’ – was Peter’s faith greater or the ‘beloved disciple’s?’ It does not matter who reached the tomb first, neither does it matter who entered first, nor does it matter that the Gospels record the beloved disciple as one who ‘believed’ while Peter ‘did not understand’, for we are not told explicitly that the ‘beloved disciple’ believed in the resurrection (for all you know, he may have ‘believed’ that Mary was correct – someone had stolen the body of Jesus!) What we do know from a further reading of the Gospels is that belief in the resurrection took a while to sink in for the twelve. Not so for Mary Magdalene! Patience is a virtue and patience pays off for her.

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PICTURING THE PASSION: ‘The Elevation of the Cross’ by Peter Paul Rubens (1610 – 1611)

‘The art of Rubens is rooted in an era darkened by the long shadows of devastating wars between Protestants and Catholics. In the wake of this profound schism….Peter Paul Rubens sought to persuade his spectators to return to the true faith through the sensuous beauty of his art. The spectacular colour, warmth, and majesty of his paintings – but also their turmoil and lamentation – were calculated to arouse devout and ethical emotions.’ – (The Catholic Rubens)  

It is in this spirit of the Counter Reformation exemplified by the genius of Rubens and the Baroque emotion that we will set out to understand the painting in consideration. The case is captivating and the insights inspiring. The painting was commissioned shortly after Ruben’s return from Italy to the flat Flanders.

The first striking aspect is undoubtedly the theme of the painting. Christ here is not already crucified. Ruben captures the process of Crucifixion. As time ticks on, it would be seconds before that enormous lurch. The wood would drop into the mouth of the earth and Christ on the Cross would jerk forward, gasping in crucial agonising pain. It is the climax before the still moment.

The central panel is brilliant. We see a graceful and powerful Christ being lifted by nine muscular executioners. They struggle in strong endeavour to lift the palpable weight of Christ on the Cross. Placed along a diagonal axis, it draws our attention to the face of Jesus. He gazes upwards crying out, ‘Father forgive them for they know not what they do.’  Above the athletic figure of Christ is the sign affixed on the orders of Pilate. It reads: ‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.’ As stated in the Gospel the sign is written in three languages: Hebrew, Greek and Latin.

But observe the conspicuous energy. It is almost as if Christ would fall into our space, with the muscular men crumbling to the ground. It leads us to this question, ‘Why was it so difficult for the powerfully built to accomplish the task? Was it the weight of my sins?’

The robust figures remind us of Ruben’s trip to Italy two years earlier. The physicality bears trace to Michelangelo’s nudes in the Sistine Chapel. And of course we see the influence of Titian’s colour, Caravaggio’s tenebrism and the classical Laocoon! The physicality of the ‘Body of Christ’ was also essential to spark the essence of the Eucharist.

Witnessing this dramatic tension is a Flemish dog. He growls contributing to the climatic vigour. The iconography beholds the psalm of the Suffering Servant: ‘Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircle me; they pierce my hands and feet’ (Psalm 22:16)

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Why is good Friday Good?  When man was at his worst, God was at His best.

If you have one minute to live and one call to make, who would you call and what would you say? This is a question I often pose to young people and the answers are always the same: “I’ll call my mother, my parents or a loved one.” What would they say? The reply is text book, “I am sorry, I love you, forgive me.” So why not say it now? Why wait for that ‘tragic end’?

Words are so powerful; they have the power to build or break. A child’s first words may be garbled gibberish but we still hear in them a mama or a dada. The words of the liturgy may sound solemn, but we still hear the loving voice of our Saviour. And then there are those words that break us; “I wish you were never born,” “you make me sick” or “I hate you.”

Today, on Good Friday we hear the words of a dying man. His words are true and full of openness. These are ‘His last Words’; yet filled with love, not hate. He preaches not once, but seven times for these are the seven last ‘words’ and yet more than words.  The first three are about Him; the last four are about others. His pulpit is His cross. There is no microphone and so at times He cries out in a loud voice, “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.”

His last will and testament is being dictated even as He dies; He inks it in His own blood. Ironically, a dying man gives us ‘life giving words.’ This homily needed no preparation, for His life was a homily and now, though words come from His lips, they emanate from His heart. Every part of His body is bruised except His tongue and He uses it to forgive. “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

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