Jessel Gerard

Matthew 16, 13-23: Who is Jesus?

Jesus in the Gospel asks His disciples two things. First, who is He according to other people? The disciples naturally answer Him that people think He is John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets. The second is crucial: Who is He according to His disciples? And it was Peter’s proclamation that He is the "Son of God" that satisfied Jesus. It is Peter’s answer that made Jesus call Peter, the Rock. "And upon this Rock, I will build my Church."

We take our lesson from here. It is thus clear that a strong faith foundation in Jesus is based on who Jesus is to us. How we know Jesus, and who is Jesus to us, will determine how we live our faith and how we practice our faith. Thus, the knowledge of Jesus will determine the quality of our love for Him, and the quality of service we render for Him. For example, if Jesus is a friend to us, then our love for Jesus is that of a friend, and our service of Jesus is based on good friendship. A case in point: The case of Moses. In Exodus 33:11, we read that "the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend." And in another place, God chides the Israelites for their anger at Moses by saying: "Hear my words, when there are prophets among you, I the Lord make myself known to them by visions; I speak to them in dreams. Not so with my servant Moses; he is entrusted with all my house. With him, I speak face to face — clearly, not in riddles; and he beholds the form of the Lord" (Numbers 12, 6-8). Friendship is not an image only: Jesus Himself clears our relationship with Him: "You are no longer slaves but my friends." Jesuits live under this image: we call ourselves, Compañia de Jesus, and our relationship among ourselves is described as "friends in the Lord." This relationship of friendship determines how we love each other and how we serve others. The song "Day by Day" in the hit musical Godspell, is similar to St. Ignatius’ desire in the second week of the Spiritual Exercises, "to know Thee more clearly, love Thee more dearly, follow Thee more closely" day by day. To know our Friend, to love our Friend, to follow our Friend.

And thus, we look at who Jesus is to us. And we can know who Jesus is by praying. Once I directed young people in their retreat. One of them left me a note which says, "I do want to pray, father, but it is also the last thing I want to do." It is indeed true to all of us: in the very depths of our hearts, we yearn for God, and yet, we are afraid that is why it is the last thing we want to do. Because when we plunge ourselves in prayer, we know that we are not anymore in control of our lives — God is. And we are not used to it. Rudolph Otto describes our encounter with God as a mysterium tremendum et fascinans, a mystery which evokes holy awe (tremendum) but which also fascinates (fascinans). The very God who awes us also draws us. It is like encountering a movie star: we are fascinated by the movie star’s presence, but we are afraid to approach him — not that we are shy, but we just do not know what to say. The Psalmist says, "My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the Living God" (Psalm 84). And when we pray to God, we listen and we hear the words, "Fear not." It is the same words God has spoken to our great biblical leaders: to Daniel, to Gideon, to our very own Mary when the angel announced the coming of the Savior.

Our experience tells us that the closer we are to God, the better off we are. Do not be afraid to pray; do not be afraid to know God. I guess the best way is to look at the deepest meaning of the fairy tale, Beauty and the Beast, which tells of the fear of the human heart before God. God, like the Beast, wants us to know him as love, but we, like Beauty, are terrified by his size and what seems to us God’s anger at us, who are sinners. If we allow God to come close to us, if we kiss the Beast, we will find that he is only love and delights in us and in our love. St. Teresa of Avila expresses this desire:

If, Lord, Thy love for me is strong

As this which binds me unto Thee,

What holds me from Thee, Lord, so long,

What holds Thee, Lord, so long from me,

O soul, what then desirest Thou?

— Lord, I would see, who thus choose Thee.

What fears can yet assail Thee now?

— All that I fear is to love Thee.

Love’s whole possession I entreat,

Lord, make my soul Thine own abode,

And I will build a nest so sweet

It may not be too poor for God.

O soul in God hidden from sin,

What more desires for Thee remain,

Save but to love, and love again,

And all on flame with love within,

Love on, and turn to love again.

Who is Jesus to you? Will you love Jesus on and on and on? Will you love Him again and again and again? And upon your relationship with Jesus will He build His Church.

Matthew 15, 21-28 The Syrophoenician Woman

This Gospel can be read as indicating our desire for God whatever or whoever we are. The Syrophoenician woman was Greek, and thus she was a stranger, a Gentile, someone who does not belong to the Jewish nation. And yet, the woman in her need cried out, "Lord, help my daughter. Cast the demon out of her!" Her cry for help stirred from her deepest desire to be whole, and her deepest desire for her daughter to be healed. This is what makes the incident moving and extraordinary in the life of Jesus. For Jesus, the deepest cry of the human heart is primary, its response to the deepest need and want is not dependent on differences whether color or creed. We are all one in our deepest desires.

St. Julian of Norwich once wrote about desires in her Revelations of Divine Love:

Then we can ask reverently of our Lover whatever we will. For by nature, our will wants God, and the good will of God wants us. We shall never cease wanting and longing until we possess Him in fullness and joy. Then we shall have no further wants.

St. Augustine of Hippo, who in his Confessions, wrote: "The thought of You stirs him (a human being) so deeply that he cannot be content unless he praises You, because You made us for Yourself, and our hearts find no peace until they rest in You."

Thus, we ask ourselves these questions: What is my deepest desire? Do I have this deepest longing for God? When do I cry in the very depths of my heart, ‘Lord, help me’?

This leads us to the second point about casting demons. The point of the miracle is that Jesus was able to cast out the demon from the daughter of the Syrophoenician woman. The daughter was therefore healed and made whole, which is the very desire of her mother. You see if we look closely at our very depths, we find ourselves wanting: no one is worthy of his or her profession. The teacher finds himself in a tension between what he teaches and how he practices it. The doctor finds herself not fully equipped because there are things which she does not know. The leader knows pretty well that she has limitations. The father knows that it is difficult to raise children. The priest who is very much in touch with his sinfulness admits that his being chosen by God to lead people to pray is unworthy of the honor. We are not complete individually, by ourselves alone. We complete each other, the way healing happened to the Syrophoenician woman: the daughter needs the deepest desire and faith of her mother, and the healing power of Jesus.

There is a song which I like very much. It was sang by the Indigo Girls. It is called the Power of Two. The refrain goes this way:

So we’re ok, we’re fine

Baby I’m here to stop you’re cryin’

Chase all the ghosts from your head

I’m stronger than the monster beneath your bed

Smarter than the tricks played on your heart

Look at them together and we’ll take them apart

Adding up a total of a love that’s true

Multiply life by the power of two.

The power of two dispels all demons. It dispels all the pain, the anger, the rejection, and the wanting. It dispels our limitations and then with another, we become whole and complete. The teacher teaches with the guidance of other teachers. The father raises children in partnership with his wife. The priest hears confessions conscious that it is not him who forgives but Christ.

Each one finds joy in the power of two. There is a shoulder to lean on. Someone to cry on. Someone to laugh our demons away. The relationship of love and friendship allows healing. It drives demons away. Then we become ok. Then we become fine. We multiply life by the power of two.

Matthew 14, 22-33 Walking on Water

The significance of the Gospel is perfectly clear to us: in the hour of the disciples’ need, Jesus came to them. When the wind was contrary and life was a struggle, Jesus was there to help. In life, the wind is often contrary. There are times when we are up against it and life is a desperate struggle with ourselves, with our circumstances, with our temptations, with our sorrows and with our decisions. At such a time, no one needs to struggle alone, for Jesus comes across the storms of our life.

Tom Clancy’s The Hunt for Red October is a great read. Red October is the name of a Soviet submarine. The captain, Marco Remius, would like to defect from the Soviet Union. As a Lithuanian, he had seen the brutality of the Soviets who took over his country and suppresed the Roman Catholic Church. He wanted to steal Red October. Throughout the whole book everyone was after him: not just the Soviets, but the English and Americans as well.

In the early parts of the book, his inner thoughts were described especially about his wife Natalja, who died because of the Soviet medical system. The passage read:

Marco Remius watched the coffin of his wife roll into the cremation chamber to the solemn strain of a classical requiem, wishing that he could pray for Natalja’s soul, hoping that Grandmother Hilda, who had had him secretly baptized as an infant, had been right. That there was something beyond the steel door and the mass of flame. Only then did the full weight of events strike him. The state had robbed him of more than his wife— it had robbed him of a means to assuage his grief with prayer. It had robbed him of hope, if only an illusion, of ever seeing her again.

I guess, this tells us why religion or faith in God is very important in our lives. We often see that those who believe, those who pray, those who place themselves in the hands of God are lucky. They know they have someone to assuage their grief, they have someone to save them.

The Gospel shows us St. Peter’s impulsiveness, but when he started sinking, when he failed, he clutched on Christ. This is the beauty of the saints. Their beauty and their holiness lie not in the number of times they failed, but in the number of times they clutched on Christ. Christ’s hands keep them steady over the storms. St. Francis of Sales once observed a farm girl off to draw water from a well. When the pail was brimming, she placed a block of wood into it. Francis asked the girl, and the girl replied, "to keep the water from spilling, and to keep it steady." As a bishop, he wrote that when our hearts are distressed, in grief and agitated by the storms of life, we should put the cross at its center to keep them steady. Like the storm, the presence of Jesus will keep our hearts calm and give us hope.

A good example of keeping the storms at bay is from the life of Blessed Peter Favre, one of the founders of the Jesuits. He was a preacher and a retreat-giver. His influence is seen in those whom he had inspired to enter. In Germany, he persuaded St. Francis Canisius to be a Jesuit, and in Spain, influenced St. Francis Borgia, the Duke of Gandia who later on became a Jesuit. During the Reformation, his work was to win the Protestants back to the fold. How did he do it? His way was simple. He said:

It is necessary that anyone who desires to be serviceable… should hold them with great affection and love them very trully, putting out of his head all thoughts and feelings that tend to their discredit. The next thing he must do is win their goodwill and love by friendly dialogue and converse about matters on which there is no differing between us, taking care to avoid all controversial subjects that lend to bickering and mutual recrimination. The things that unite us ought to be the first ground of our approach, not the things that keep us apart.

This is perfect Christian conflict management. To patch a relationship, do not begin with the things you disagree with, but start with the things that you share. Christ’s disciples, Matthew, the tax collector of the Roman government, and Simon the Zealot, a rebel against the Romans, could have fought several times. But their love of Christ put them together. The values of Christ do put conflicts at bay. The cross of Christ keeps our troubled hearts steady. In the midst of storms, Christ indeed gives us hope.