The Seven Next-to-Last Words of Christ

The announced retirement of David Letterman made me think of his famous "Top Ten Lists." That famous segment of "Late Night" is the precursor of websites like BuzzFeed and Mental Floss. Now there's a list for everything!

As with most things, the Catholic Church was ahead of the curve. We were into lists before they were cool. They make excellent instructional tools! Germane to the celebration of Holy Week is the list of the "Seven Last Words of Christ." When I was a kid, I thought that was one statement consisting of seven words, as in, (1) Father, (2) into (3) Your (4) hands (5) I (6) commend (7) My (8)...Spirit...so much for that theory.

In fact they are seven distinct statements of Jesus, taken from all four Gospels. Preachers and writers have waxed devotional on them for hundreds of years. While reflecting on the readings for Passion/Palm Sunday I found at least seven penultimate last words worth our time and attention. (I'm glad I got to use the word "penultimate" once in a post before April was up.) Each of these utterances signaled Jesus' Paschal Mystery (His passion, death, and resurrection) and various dimensions of our participation in it.

As with the traditional list, they do not together compose a single narrative, because they are culled from all four Gospels. For theological and preaching purposes--rightly or wrongly--we tend to lump the Gospels together without attending to their individual peculiarities of context, audience, etc. The words are listed in the best possible reconstruction of chronological order.

1. "The Master has need of them/it" (Mt 21:3; Mk 11:3; Lk 19:31). Whether Jesus is speaking about a furnished room or a donkey or our talents, He boldly requests them for His dedication and use. We usually consider ourselves in terms of "what I'm supposed to do for God, what He demands of me," etc. What about God's interest in us? He has so arranged it that certain things just don't get done unless we do them.
2. The Words of Institution ("Take and eat/drink: this is My Body...this cup is the new covenant in My Blood"; Mt 26:26-28). The Eucharistic Gift of Self keeps on giving because of the priesthood Jesus established in the Church. It fulfills the Passover and the many sacrifices of the First Covenant. It liberates us from the effects of sin, suffering, and death. When Jesus transformed bread and wine into His own Body and Blood for the remission of sins, He was in effect promising to deliver Himself physically and spiritually to the hands of men. Holy Thursday gave way to Good Friday.
3. "What you are going to do, do quickly" (Jn 13:27). We are told that Satan "entered" Judas at that moment when Jesus dismissed him to continue the betrayal. Here Jesus encourages Judas to have a sense of urgency. If Judas is supposed to be about his business with urgency, how much more does Jesus want us to labor enthusiastically--"with God inside," according to the Greek--for the Kingdom of His Father?
4. "It would be better for that man if he had never been born" (Mt 26:24). While it certainly is possible that Judas is in hell, or that this or that other person in history is in hell, we ought not be keen on compiling God's Naughty People List. While the Church certainly affirms the reality of hell, according to Our Lord's own witness in Scripture, her mission (and His) is to help keep it empty—in light of which this statement has an ominous ring. Moreover, the Catechism affirms that  every human person contributes to the death of Christ (CCC 598), and every person remains the recipient of His saving love. Struggle with it if you like. I'm not offering any definitive answers.
5. "I shall not drink this fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it with you new in the Kingdom of my Father" (Mt 26:29). This quote contains the promise of Jesus' resurrection, as well as our own. We continue to "drink this fruit of the vine" in every Holy Communion, but Jesus has refrained by returning in our flesh, by the Spirit's power, to the Father. "At length, when Sacraments shall cease," the Eternal Nuptial Banquet will furnish an elegant sufficiency.
6. "Let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will" (Mt 26:39). We may derive great consolation from the sacred humanity of Jesus. Sacred, yes; but also human. His sensibilities resisted torture and execution. Who'd enjoy it? But Jesus demonstrates the crucial fact (pardon the pun) that love is a choice and not a feeling. Love is a sustained choice that often entails a bunch of smaller choices that one makes along the way. Jesus' "intentional default setting," is the Divine Will. As He revealed in His prayer, the prospects of those next 24 hours did not appeal to His feelings and thoughts, and so they became a threat to His human will; as a result of which He reaffirmed the alignment of His human will to the Divine Will.
7. "So you could not keep watch with Me for one hour?" (Mt. 26:40). Jesus dresses down the drowsy disciples not to expose any sin of theirs, but to heal their human frailty. We utterly need God to keep us alive and alert in His Presence. I, for one, am failing as the night progresses. Therefore
8. Silence is the eighth of Jesus' seven next-to-last words. His opponents will hear more than enough silence from Him from betrayal to burial, and it will unnerve them. Pilate, and especially Herod, will hear it; His torturers will receive it at every lash, at every challenge to save Himself by an easier, softer Way. Jesus' silence makes His speech all the more meaningful; likewise for many of us who occasionally need a podiatric dentist to extract our feet from our mouths.

Gags and Gifts

Non timeo Danaos et dona ferentes

For many years the late Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen would preach a sermon on Good Friday at the Church of Saint Agnes in New York City on the topic of the “Seven Last Words” of Jesus.  (For many years I wondered, “How could they call them the 'Seven Last Words,' when the last thing Jesus said wasn’t seven words long?”)  With characteristic erudition and wit, Sheen would connect Jesus’ Passion Pronouncements to other lists of seven.  These were long sermons, but the time was well spent because of both the message and the messenger!

It occurred to me that today’s feast of the Epiphany could provide a regular opportunity to preach on the “Three Gifts” from the Magi.  Two obstacles come to mind: first, I could not approximate the content or style of Bishop Sheen, and second, another preacher in our parish is fond of presenting three major points in his homilies.  But since 2013 is as good a year as any for overcoming obstacles, here we go with a meditation on the Three Gifts of the Magi and the Three Secular Sins in the first letter of St. John (2:16).

A little background on the Secular Sins might be helpful.  John writes his primary epistle to oppose the spread of Gnostic Docetism into the fledgling Church.  “Gnostic Docetism” is a two-for-one heresy.  The Docetists claimed that Jesus appeared as man, but didn’t actually assume human nature because that would be “coming too close” to us peons; the Gnostics considered Jesus as a mere stepping stone to higher knowledge of God as if such knowledge were an “exclusive offer not available in stores.”  The antidote to spiritual poison, then and now, is twofold: right teaching and right living.  If you want to know the Father, encounter the Son, specifically as one who has assumed true flesh and shed true blood.  If you want to know the Son, encounter the Church, who is known by her obedience to the Commandments, loving God and loving neighbor.  St. John addresses various subgroups in the community to encourage them that they do, in fact, know Christ.  They don’t have to wait for any secret teachings, as the Gnostics would have them believe.  Jesus’ companions know Him because, as John says, “your sins have been forgiven for His name’s sake” (2:12).  But knowledge alone doesn’t guarantee right action, nor is it a one-way ticket to everlasting life.  As John later relates, the awareness of being God's children, with its promise of likeness to Him, must lead to purity of life (cf. 3:1-2).

Whatchu talkin' about, Satan?

The evil one continues to assail us with temptations as he assailed Jesus en route to His public ministry. By His fidelity in the wilderness Jesus manifested Himself as Victor over Satan; and we share in that victory when we reject “the things of the world” (2:15)—a discordant tune that John summarizes in three notes: (1) sensual lust, (2) enticement for the eyes, and (3) a pretentious life.  The offerings of the Magi are suitable substitutes for these vicious patterns.

Sensual lust may be considered more broadly as physical gratification.  When pursued as an end in itself, gratification becomes a shortcut to forgetting God and neighbor. God made our bodies, so they’re good: this point can’t be emphasized enough, if only because our gainsayers accuse us of hating the flesh.  It’s actually the lustful, gluttonous, and slothful persons who have a hard time giving the body due reverence and care.  Consider the Magi’s gift of myrrh: a perfume, a bodily adornment.  Later in the Gospel, myrrh appears once again, when the holy women bring it to the Lord’s tomb to anoint His dead body—an act of reverence and care.  The body of Christ deserved such treatment and so do our bodies.  Reverence, however, is not pampering, for it involves the sacrifice of one’s own desires and energies.  To live this way in the world is a prophetic witness.  Modesty draws attention because it seems like a judgment upon the indulgent; at the very least, it seems novel.

         

Enticement for the eyes refers to the bulging of the eyes and the shrinking of the heart at the sight of another’s blessings, which are viewed as a threat to one’s own.  In the acquisition of goods, there are two extremes to avoid.  One extreme is to claim for oneself the supreme right to get whatever one wants, by whatever means, at whoever’s expense.  The Gospel parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16:19-31) assigns a bleak outcome to the person who pays no attention to the person in need.  Yet we also avoid such distrust of the human person that discourages or forbids private property.  The Catechism has a splendid paragraph (1884) on how God’s respect for human freedom is the model for human governance.  The Magi’s gift of gold bears witness to Our Lord’s kingly state.  Gold is the “wealth of nations” about which Isaiah speaks—the treasure of the Gentiles, who have now been invited to share in the promise of salvation furnished by the Holy Child of Nazareth. God’s chosen and beloved people have freely shared their wealth for the benefit of every person of every place and time.

        

The third worldly vice, a pretentious life, is best illustrated in the depiction of just about any celebrity’s life.  But it has less to do with wealth or fame than with how people carry themselves—what rights and privileges they claim, a quick disdain for whoever doesn’t meet their qualifications, the impression of self-importance they give off, as noticeable as a cologne bath.  Of course, it’s always easier to notice someone else’s more egregious displays of vanity.  We may be drawn to the guilty pleasure of television shows that we can watch with the satisfaction, perhaps laced with gratitude, of knowing that “I’m not that bad.”  Perhaps not, and thank God for it.  But we seek the disposition that corresponds to the Magi’s offering of frankincense: a priestly, worshipful attitude, eager to observe and acclaim the virtues and achievements of others.  In the seminary I had several friends who had such a disposition.  As an amateur organist, I always admired the talents of the organists who would enter the seminary in the course of my nine years of study.  Several of them were professionally trained.  But they were often quick to compliment me when they enjoyed something I played.  The lesson: “File this under your cap, Chris, so that you can ‘go and do likewise’ in your day, starting this day!”  Many opportunities have indeed surfaced; sad to say, I haven’t taken them all, so I ought not be surprised about the many melancholy moments I’ve had, which tend to be quickly transformed by making a sincere and hearty compliment.

         

The life of virtue, marked by prompt giving and grateful receiving, is what St. John might call “the will of God.”  His presentation of the secular sins concludes with aphorisms reminiscent of the prophet Isaiah and the prophet Jesus: “Yet the world and its enticement are passing away.  But whoever does the will of God remains forever” (2:17).  The Magi followed the will of God to its very Source, a humble stable in an out-of-the-way place.  Their hearts were open to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, who led them to appreciate a light that wasn’t their own, to adopt a fresh, spiritual way of thinking and acting.  That was their true gift, and it’s meant for us as well.

Something for the Ladies

Leah Darrow, a blogger for the Fellowship of Catholic University Students (FOCUS), writes about True Womanhood in a piece that, frankly, I as a man wish I'd heard from a woman about women when I was younger.

FTW: her sampling of Fulton Sheen on woman's role in civilization.