When I was younger,
there was a lot of talk about "finding yourself." Dramatic actions were taken in the name of
this quest; people would leave their town, country, home, family, even spouse
and children. This setting out was considered
the prerequisite to an authentic experience of self-discovery.
People don't
use that phrase as often anymore, but the proposal has become widely accepted
that authentic self-knowledge and self-actualization occurs only in the context
of a breaking off of what has gone before, especially of relationships, in
order to pursue one's deepest desire or dream.
The
celebrations of this type of resolutely self-centered action not only fail to
focus on the damage done and grief experienced by those left behind by the self-searcher,
but they also neglect to look to closely at what the seeker finds and gains when
successful.
Not that any
of you who pause long enough to read these thoughts would be likely to
undertake such a search, but you, like me, have spent much of your lives
surrounded by applause and acclaim for those who have. It affects our outlook and understanding.
For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever
loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man, if he
gains the whole world and forfeits his life? (Mt 16:25-26) Jesus' words ring familiar in our ears, but
do we hear what he is saying to us, poor little rich twenty-first century
sophisticates that we are? We who think
we know what he was really about, we who think we know what the Gospel really
is, we who are amazingly comfortable coming before him with our lives as they
are and our expectations as we have shaped them?
If you want a
search, look today, look at the scenes that pass before us. Look as we hear the familiar words of the
Passion of Our Lord according to Saint Matthew.
This is the longest of the Passion accounts, and every word, every
action depicted is familiar, expected. Oh, the cock is about to crow! Is this the part where we shout Crucify Him? How long until we can sit down?
Why go
through this agony? The agony of
standing all that time, the agony of the words, the agony of the familiar
actions, and the agony of the end we already know -- why? Because it really happened. But not only that; because it happened in
order to be available for you to attend.
And as Moses lifted up the serpent
in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes
in him may have eternal life. (Jn
3:14-15) That’s why.
The lifting
up not only of the cross but also of its spiked and suffocating victim is for
you. The injuries and the indignities are
held up for you to see and hear. Bad as
it was that the Son of God suffer it all in front of that curious and
indifferent and hostile crowd, that is not enough. The lifting up must go on before every
curious or indifferent or hostile soul ever and everywhere. So must the Son of Man be lifted up, that
whoever believes in him may have eternal life.
Look at Him
there, breathing his last. Look at His
mother, and His one remaining apostle, there below him. Look at the two dead criminals. Look at the centurion and the soldiers. Look at the taunters and the keeners; look at
the mourners and the gloaters, the spitters and the shouters; look at the ones
who averted their eyes and wept.
Look. Look long and slow. See if here, now, you can manage to find yourself.
Monsignor Smith
