Homilette for Thursday, April 12, 2007

Thursday, I Easter, April 11, 2007

(Luke 24)

The German Renaissance master Mathis Grünewald portrayed Christ’s life on what is called the Isenheim Altarpiece. The paintings of the crucifixion and the resurrection stand out. One can hardly imagine a more pathetic scene than Christ tortured on the cross. He is writhing in pain. His body is hideously contorted. And thorns from a beating with reeds cover his body. As atrocious as Jesus looks here, his resurrected body is glorious. His skin glows, and his wounds sparkle. There is not a hint of the agony he went through just two days before.

Thomas Aquinas would find the magnificent portrait of Christ’s glorified body entirely appropriate. He writes, according to one commentator, that the incorruptible soul bestows on the body “something glorious or luminous” in the resurrection. The gospel narrative today seems to attest to this transformation. Jesus’ disciples can’t believe what they are seeing as the resurrected Lord stands before them. They mistakenly believe that he is a ghost because the last time they saw him was hanging on the cross.

Aquinas does not leave such a glorification of the body solely to Jesus’ case. No, he says that everyone who dies with Christ are bound to experience this same transformation. It will not happen on the day we die, but at the resurrection of the dead on the last day. Our bodies will have all the beauty of robust youth whether we die at ninety days or ninety years. This is just another example of how God shows his love for us. It provides us still another reason to love God in return.

Homilette for Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Wednesday, I Easter

(Luke 24)

A disappointment of the gospel is that we find no physical description of Jesus. Try as we might, we never see a word about his stature, his complexion, or any distinguishing mannerism, other than that he spoke with authority. Once a journalist wrote that he was short since the Gospel of Luke mentions that Zacchaeus had to climb a tree to see him. However, the more common interpretation of this story is that Zacchaeus was the little guy.

Perhaps since Jesus is so nondescript in the gospels, it should not strike us as peculiar that his disciples cannot recognize him at first glance after the resurrection. Both Mary in yesterday’s gospel from St. John and the two disciples today in Luke’s gospel don’t expect Jesus to be alive so without any outstanding characteristic they fail to distinguish him from a gardener or another passer-by. Until he speaks with his old authority, that is. Then his words go straight to the heart. Mary is lifted out of her fog of grief when he mentions her name. The disciples too achieve insight as he blesses and breaks the bread.

James Caviezel-images aside, we still have no idea of what Jesus looks like. But we recognize his words. He calls us by name in Baptism. He pronounces the same blessing over the bread and wine in Eucharist. He accompanies us as surely as he revisited his disciples after the resurrection. We want to lift ourselves from the fog of concerns that envelope us to achieve insight of him.