In today’s Gospel passage from John, Jesus is still in the Temple area on the feast of the Dedication.  This feast celebrates the dedication of the Temple in the time written about in the Books of Maccabees.  King Antiochus IV, “an offshoot” of those who had divided the kingdom of Alexander the Great, had become king.  He ordered all to give up their ways and to conform to Greek customs.  He ultimately profaned the Temple. 

Judas Maccabeus, or just Maccabeus, defeated the king’s forces, removed the sacrilege from the Temple, rebuilt the altar, and purified it as part of a dedication that became the basis for this feast.

Jesus came to replace the Temple.  So, on a feast honoring the purification of the Temple, many of the Jewish people wanted to attempt the ultimate profanation: stoning God himself.  Isaiah 7:14 had prophesied the Messiah and called him Immanuel, meaning “God with us.”  Instead of recognizing this in Jesus, they attempted to kill him…even as they remembered how Maccabeus had purified the Temple.  The irony is hard to overlook.

Jesus is still present to us today.  In the Eucharist, of course.  But he is also present in our hearts.  While we cannot come together physically to encounter Jesus in our church, we can encounter him in our hearts through our prayer. 

This cannot happen unless we make it a priority to take time for that encounter. 

So many of the Jewish people in Jesus’ time made the Temple building so important that they failed to recognize the reality of God present in front of them.  The external actions of worship were emphasized while the internal attitudes of the heart were all but ignored.  Jesus wants us to gather as Church.  And, we will do so physically soon.  But he does not want us to do only externally.  He wants not just our actions, but our hearts.  He wants our whole being. 

Even if our actions are faithful to the requirements of the Church, are our hearts fully receptive to the grace of the Holy Spirit in helping us to encounter our Lord? 

Much of today’s Gospel passage from John is focused on Jesus comparing who he is to who Abraham is.  Jesus says that Abraham, the father of the Jewish faith, is happy to see God enter into our world in the person of Jesus Christ. 

This Jesus sacrifices himself for us on the cross.  He gives his life for our redemption.

But there is one part of today’s passage that can easily be missed.

“If I glorify myself, my glory is worth nothing; but it is my Father who glorifies me,…”

Jesus did not come to do his own thing.  He came to do the Father’s will.  Completely.  In everything.  It means nothing if he does something to glorify himself.  It means everything that he comes to fulfill the mission given to him by the Father.

Yes, Jesus sacrificed for us.  Yes, he shows us the Father.  But he also shows us the Way.  A way that is completely aligned with the will of the Father.

That is also the way for us.  To align our will with that of the Father.  We are called to set aside our own desires and plans.  We are called to simply follow the will of the Father.

For most of us, that is a pretty significant paradigm shift.  We are so immersed in the demands of our state in life.  We struggle if we try to step back and to ask, “What does God want of me in this moment?”  It can be difficult to accept our current reality, whatever that might be.  It can be tough to realize that it is impossible to go back in time and make the changes in our past that would bring us a different present situation. 

But, if we can accept where we are, it can be easier to discern our path forward from that point.  Not that we do not try to make changes that would be helpful.  But we focus ourselves by asking the question, “where does God want me to go from here?”

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says that everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin.  But he also promises that he can set us free.

Today’s culture believes that we are free when we can choose whatever we want to do.  Not only that, but we deserve to be affirmed by everyone else for having made those choices.

But this is a false freedom.

The way that God lays out for us is not just what God wants.  It is a way that is logically correct.  It is true.  It respects the dignity of others.  It is the way that we know inside ourselves to be right, if we have taken the time and effort to properly inform our conscience.

When we choose to stray from the path that leads to God, we sin.  To sin is to commit a fault against God.  But we also commit a fault against reason, truth, and conscience.  Sin ultimately makes no sense.  It is illogical.  It does not align with truth.  We almost always know deep down that it is not right.

Sin leads to more sin.  It often leads to addiction to the sin.  It does not lead to freedom.  It impairs our freedom.  We become enslaved to sin, as Jesus tells us today.

True freedom is the ability to do the right thing.  It is a freedom for excellence.  It is a freedom that leads to the greatest possible human flourishing.  It comes from doing God’s will.

When we see a musician or a sports star who makes their craft seem effortless, we also see the results of years of disciplined practice.  This discipline yields a freedom for excellence.  It results in a freedom from making mistakes that would not bring the desired results.  Their work makes it easier for them to do things well.   Doing it well has become a habit.  The same is true of the moral life.

God is not just good.  God is goodness itself.  God is the source of all good.  God cannot wish anything other than the best for us because that would be contrary to God’s nature.  Trusting in God is also trusting in that fact.  It is knowing that we will become the best that we can be when we become what God wants us to be.

Are we seeking to be truly free by following God’s will?  Are there some ways in which we are still seeking the false freedom of trying to do whatever we want?

In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, there is a passage where Jesus asks some version of the question, “Who do people say that I am?”  This is followed by the more personal question, “But who do you say that I am?”

The answer to that question is in today’s Gospel passage from John.  Jesus tells us that he is the Son of Man.  Elsewhere in John’s Gospel, Jesus tells us that several things about the Son of Man.  The one upon whom angels will be descending and ascending when heaven opens.  The one who has descended from heaven himself.  The one who gives us the food of eternal life…when we eat his flesh and drink his blood.  The one who will ascend to where he was before.

In today’s passage, Jesus also says that he is God.  He uses the name for God that was given to Moses.  “I AM.” 

When Jesus had asked his disciples in the other Gospels that question, they did not have the benefit of already having the answer from Jesus. 

Once Jesus says that he is God, we are faced with C. S. Lewis’ famous trilemma in answering the earlier questions for ourselves.  “Who do you say that I am?”  Well, given that Jesus says here in today’s Gospel that he is God, then Jesus is either a liar, a lunatic, or Lord.  One possibility is that he knows that he is not God but is trying to con the whole world into believing that he is.  Another is that he is delusional in saying that he is God.  Or, he truly is God. 

If Jesus is God, then what does that mean for me?  If God truly became one of us in order to save us, how do I respond?  If God so loves me that he is willing to die on a cross for my sake, then what?

Can I live my life in any way other than wholly loving God with my entire being and trying always to God’s will?  Can I want anything else other than to enter eternal communion with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit?

But first, it all starts with my response to Jesus’ question.

“Who do you say that I am?”

Yes, God is a God of justice.  But, God is also a God of mercy.  His mercy exceeds his justice.  God’s plan does not intend to give us what we deserve.  God’s plan is to show mercy.

John 3:16-17 reads, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.”

In today’s Gospel, the scribes and Pharisees brought an adulterous woman before him.  They asked him whether she should be stoned in accordance with the law from Moses. 

We all know his answer: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Before and after he gave this answer, he wrote on the ground with his finger.  What did he write?  Saint Jerome said, “’But Jesus, stooping down, began to write with his finger on the ground,’ the sins, to be sure, of those who were making the accusation,…”  These leaders were eager to exact “justice” on this woman.  But, faced with the reality of their sins and not wanting similar justice brought upon them, they walked away.

Notice that Jesus does not condone anyone’s sins.  According to Saint Jerome, he calls out the sins of the leaders.  And, he tells the woman, “Go, [and] from now on do not sin anymore.”

Jesus’ act of mercy helps to save the woman.  He does not come to condemn.  He comes to save.  He does not condemn the leaders.  But, perhaps by calling out their sins, he changes them.  And, after asking the woman whether anyone is left to condemn her, he tells her, “Neither do I condemn you.”

God wants to show mercy.  But, we must show repentance to receive that mercy.  Then God will give us what he desires to give us.  Not the justice that we deserve but the mercy that we did not merit.

Are we willing to be saved from our sins?  To show repentance and to receive God’s mercy?

Are we willing to show mercy to others? 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.

The name Lazarus means “God is my help” or “one whom God has helped.”  This recalls for us Psalm 121:2: “My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.”  This is also part of the blessing often done by a bishop at the end of Mass.

Jesus helps Lazarus.  But he does so to demonstrate his divinity.  Jesus says, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”  His illness will include death.  But, because of the miracle that Jesus will perform, it will not end in death.

Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.  Is this the greatest thing that he could for Lazarus?  No, the greatest thing would be to give him eternal life.  Instead, Lazarus is raised from the dead and must die a physical death again later.  This miracle means that Lazarus gets to die twice.

The greatest thing that Jesus does is to suffer and die on the cross for our sake.  He redeems us.  By his Resurrection, he conquers death and opens up eternal life for us.  Extending life on earth by a few years has no comparison with the promise of eternal life in union with God.

The raising of Lazarus from the dead is not what we proclaim as Christians.  The heart of our proclamation is Christ’s Resurrection.  Something that transcends this world.  Something that is necessarily preceded by a willingness of God the Son to die for our sins.

Are we open to the reality of those actions of God which radically transform, or even transcend, our world?  How are we seeking the things that help us toward eternal life?

Today’s Gospel passage immediately follows the passage about Living Water.  Jesus is still at the feast of Tabernacles. 

The feast of Tabernacles lasted eight days.  Each of the first seven mornings, a procession went down to the fountain of Gihon that supplies the pool of Siloam.  There, they drew a pitcher and then processed to the Temple and to the altar.  This observance concluded with the priest pouring the water into a funnel from the altar from which the water then poured out on the ground. 

After the last of these processions, Jesus invites others to come to him for spiritual drink.  He announced that he was the living water.  Anyone who believes will have rivers of living water flow from within them.

This truth caused a division among the people and fueled opposition from the authorities.  Some, who were just in the initial stages of accepting Jesus’ invitation, saw him as the Prophet.  Not just a prophet, but the Prophet promised by Moses (see Deuteronomy 18:15).  Others were closer to the truth.  They recognized Jesus as the Messiah.  But still others insisted that the Messiah had to come from Bethlehem and the house of David (see Jeremiah 23:5 and Micah 5:2).  And the authorities wanted the guards to arrest him.

It is not that Jesus wants division.  But truth itself causes a division between those who believe and those who resist.  Jesus has come to gather all peoples.  But some will refuse his invitation.  Others will accept it only half-heartedly.

The more that we accept Jesus’ invitation to drink this living water, the closer that we draw to him.  We come to know the truth ever more because we come to know him who is the way and the truth and the life (John 14:6).

Do we thirst for this living water?  In this time of separation from the sacraments, are we seeking it with all our heart through our prayer?  Do we desire to have this living water flow from us also for the benefit of others?

In today’s Gospel, Jesus had been avoiding Judea because of threats against him.  However, he decides to go up to Jerusalem in secret for the feast of Tabernacles.

This feast of Tabernacles is the last of the appointed festivals or feasts given to Moses by God in Leviticus 23.  It was celebrated right after the harvest season.

The name comes from God’s order to live in booths or tabernacles for seven days during this festival.  Another name for these dwellings would be “tents.”  They would serve as a reminder for the people of Israel of how their ancestors had lived in tents during the Exodus.  Those ancestors did not have permanent homes but only temporary dwellings as part of their nomadic existence.

A pilgrim is defined as one who journeys in a foreign land or as one who travels to a holy place as a devotee.  The Catechism describes the three states of the Church.  While some members are being purified and others are already in glory, others are “pilgrims on earth” (CCC 954).  That is our state here, and we meet both aspects of the dictionary definition: journeying in a foreign land and headed toward a holy place as a devotee.  Jesus said of his disciples, “They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world” (John 17:16).

There is a temptation to put down deep roots in this world and to forget that we are a pilgrim people.  We are in this world, but we are journeying toward the next. 

Are we prepared to undertake this pilgrim journey?  Have we fixed our eyes on our destination?  Are we joining with our fellow pilgrims to make this journey together?

“You search the Scriptures, because you think you have eternal life through them; even they testify on my behalf.  But you do not want to come to me to have life.“

Do we go to Jesus to have life?  Where do we go to encounter Jesus?

Of course, we do so through the celebration of the Mass.  Of course, we do so through the reception of the sacraments, especially the Eucharist.

But, particularly in this time when we are physically separated from Mass and the sacraments, where do we go to encounter our Lord?

Through our daily prayer.  Yes, that prayer can include memorized prayer.  It can include repetition like the Jesus Prayer of the Orthodox Church (“Lord Jesus Christ Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner”).  Often, and especially in times of great trial, those prayers that we learned long ago are the ones that get us through. 

But prayer really comes from the longings of our heart.  We can see this longing expressed in some of the Psalms, but especially at the beginning of Psalm 63. 

         O God, you are my God—

         it is you I seek!

         For you my body yearns;

         for you my soul thirsts,

         In a land parched, lifeless,

         and without water.

         I look to you in the sanctuary

         to see your power and glory.

         For your love is better than life;

         my lips shall ever praise you!

Real prayer comes from the depths of our heart.  Saint John Henry Newman knew this well.  His episcopal motto was “Cor ad cor loquitur.”  Heart speaks to heart.  It is not just that we speak from our heart.  Perhaps more importantly, it is that we listen with all our heart.  And it is in our heart that we meet the Lord.

When we come to Jesus in prayer, we open ourselves to the gift of life. 

Do we long for this encounter of the heart?  Do we make it a priority to set aside time each day for this encounter?

The Annunciation is the culmination of all human history.  God becomes man.  Jesus becomes incarnate in the womb of the Blessed Mother.  To point to the famous quote from Saint Athanasius, God became human so that we might become divine.  God entered into our world.  The Creator took on the form of one of his creatures … out of love for us.  The Son did not come to condemn us, but to save us.

And Mary said yes.  God did not invade our world.  Through the angel, God asked permission to enter.  He knocked at the door, and Mary opened that door and let him in.  And everything changed.

God knocks at our own doors individually.  He asks for us to let him in.  He does not invade.  He asks permission. 

However, we can allow the noise of this world to drown out the knock at the door.  Our schedules can make it so that we do not have time to answer the door.  Through sin, we might even have chosen to make it so that the knock cannot be heard. 

Will we open that door?  Will we say yes?  

Mary’s yes transformed the world.  Our own yes can transform our own world.

What is our response?