Recognizing the Risen Christ
Our Mass readings for the Easter Season present a rich array of Post-Resurrection stories.
As I read through them, I am struck by a curious observation—Jesus’ friends had problems recognizing him!
Why couldn't they immediately see that this was their friend, Jesus?
We hear from Gospel passages that…
Mary Magdalene thought he was the gardener until he called her by name. (Jn 20:11-17)
The two disciples on the way to Emmaus—even while they walked with and talked about him—were oblivious of his identity until he broke bread with them. (Lk 24:13-35)
In order to prove he was not a ghost, Jesus had to eat fish in the presence of his friends gathered in the upper room. (Lk 24:42)
Thomas couldn’t believe until he touched his nail wounds. (Jn 20: 24-29)
And Peter and his fishing buddies had to pull in an incredible haul of fish before having breakfast on the beach with Jesus. (Jn 21)
What is this all about? How can this be?
All these events reveal something about our human condition that we need to ponder. What is going on here?
The Gospel of Luke gives a clue.
“The women who had followed Jesus in Galilee “came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ Then they remembered his words.” (Lk 24:1-6)
What the two men are saying, in effect, is, “You are looking with the eyes of this earth—he has been transfigured into new life—now you must look with transformed eyes.”
Do we/can we see the Risen Christ with transformed eyes?
If we have accompanied Jesus through Lent and his Passion and Death, the Resurrection event compels us to take a whole new perspective on the meaning and teaching of Jesus.
Everything Jesus endured now becomes our journey—to take up our Cross of pain and sorrow and follow in his footsteps. It’s now our turn!
This is scary. It is seemingly impossible.
Can’t we just celebrate that Jesus has ransomed us from death and with that go our own way? No!
Such great unconditional love demands a heroic response from us.
Why did Jesus’ disciples, and we, have such difficulty in accepting the fact that Jesus has such great (unconditional) love for us?
There are as many different reasons for our misgivings as there are disciples.
But an underlying commonality may be our innate hesitancy (even fear) to believe that we are loved and that we doubt that we can have the strength it takes to love faithfully.
Why is it that so many (men in particular) have such an aversion to saying, “I love you!”?
Just as difficult to admit is “I’m sorry!” It feels too dangerous.
Making ourselves vulnerable by admitting our guilt is difficult, at best.
Accepting unconditional love requires that we surrender to Love. And we are no longer in control; but we are not alone.
Jesus wants to accompany us as our companion on our journey of life. To bind our wounds of grief.
In Mass, we pray in Greek: “Lord, have mercy (eleison).”
The Greek phrase, “Kyrie eleison”(*), carries a deeper connotation; it means more than “mercy” as “justice” or “acquittal.”
The Greek word, “eleison”, derives from “eleos”, having the same root as the old Greek word for oil, or more precisely, olive oil; a substance which was used extensively as a soothing agent for bruises and minor wounds. The oil was poured onto the wound and gently massaged in, thus soothing, comforting, and making whole the injured part.[1]
“Lord, soothe me, comfort me, take away my pain, show me your steadfast love.”
“Thus mercy does not refer so much to justice or acquittal—a very Western interpretation—but to the infinite loving-kindness of God, and his compassion for his suffering children! “
We need not fear surrendering to such a healing Lord.
We fear that binding restricts our freedom; but we long for His healing.
Finally, the Gospel of John tells us:
“Then the other disciple [John], who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.” (Jn 20:1-10)
[That is to say, “Back to square one—starting over with new insight. Where do we go from here?”]
Or as T. S. Eliot expresses it …
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T. S. Eliot (Four Quartets)
We fear that binding restricts our freedom; but we long for His healing.
(*) Kyrie eleison – Let us ask the Lord to bind us to himself and soothe our wounds!
Going home! – Let us see with transformed eyes!
Quo vadis – Where are we going?
[1] See: Aleteia.org article: Meaning of Kyrie eleison at Mass at https://aleteia.org/2017/09/22/why-do-we-sometimes-use-the-greek-words-kyrie-eleison-during-mass/
About Lloyd Guerin:
A parishioner at Prince of Peace since 1976, Lloyd Guerin has ministered as a Spiritual Director ever since his graduation from the Cenacle Spiritual Direction Institute in 2010. He is on the Board of Directors at the Emmaus Spirituality Center since its founding in 2019.
Lloyd has enjoyed his 38-year career in the Information Technology industry as a programmer, systems analyst and manager, but enjoys his active retirement even more.
His spiritual adventure is grounded by his lived experience as a Franciscan Friar for six years in the early 1960’s. Since his first ACTS retreat in 2002 and his initiation into elder-hood at his Men’s Rites of Passage in 2007, Lloyd has served in various leadership roles promoting and supporting men’s spiritual transformation.
Lloyd and his beloved wife, Betty, who passed away in 2011, partnered their spiritual journey throughout their 42 years of marriage. He enjoys reading, classical music, being in nature, and playing with his grandchildren.
Favorite Scripture—As Lloyd was taught in early childhood by his father in words and action: “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Lk 6:38)
