Jesus – the Pilgrim of Hope
In this Jubilee Year of hope, I like
to reflect on Jesus as the pilgrim of hope. Jesus came as a pilgrim to this
world, and he not only gave hope to many but also was able to find hope in
the least expected places and situations. In our pilgrimage of life we
visit many places, meet many people, experience many events. Some of these
events which are painful we try to avoid, some of the places we regret
visiting, some of the people we have met are not to our liking and we consider meeting
them as unfortunate. But often the very people and place we avoid, the
events that bring pain, hold immense possibilities for growth, for hope, for
new life. This is a lesson we can learn from Jesus the pilgrim who found hope
in most unexpected places.
As a Child he journeyed to Egypt carried
by his father and mother. Egypt is known for oppression and slavery yet this
land offered shelter and safety to Jesus Mary and Joseph. Place of slavery became
a place of hope.
When Jesus was twelve years old,
he journeyed to Jerusalem with his
parents and he was lost in the temple.
In the midst of loss and pain at Jerusalem, Jesus recognizes his identity, as
the son of a Father, “ Don’t you know I must be in my Father’s house”. Loss
become opportunity to discover one’s identity.
Jesus journeyed to Cana for a
marriage feast. He was hesitant to grant his mother’s request and begin the hour, but his obedience at Cana, his
journey to Calvary began. Cana led to
Calvary. Though hesitant at first, Cana became the launching pad for his public ministry.
The place of slavery becomes a place
of hope and shelter as at Egypt, the occasion when one is lost, becomes an opportunity
to realise one’s identity as at Jerusalem, one’s reluctance becomes occasion to
launch on a new path as at Cana. The place we think are enslaving us, the
events that are painful and the loss we suffer, our hesitancy and reluctance,
hide opportunities for hope, for growth, and for new life.
His public Ministry, his took him to places
like Samaria, Tabor, Gennesaret, Tyre, Jericho,
Bethany, and many more places. His journey
to Samaria brings hope to the Samaritan woman and set her free from her prejudice
and caste and ostracization. He journeys to Jericho to bring sight to
Bartimeus, and a new purpose to Zachheus. His trip to Mount Tabor results in
recognizing himself as the beloved of the Father. At Tyre he casts out a demon
from the daughter of a Syrophenician woman. His journey to
Bethany brings new life to Lazarus and hope to Martha and Mary. Whereever
Jesus goes he brings new hope, new life.
Jesus is the Pilgrim of hope.
Our journey of life takes us to many
places. We meet many people. In this
Jubilee year, as a Pilgrim of hope we need to count the places we have visited
and the people we have set free. Every village we go to, every sick we visit, every
pain, every division, caste, and inequality
we come across, should be an opportunity for us to bring hope. Like Jesus we are invited to be Pilgrims of
hope.
The final part of his pilgrimage took Jesus
to Calvary. Calvary, the
place of pain, cross, injustice, condemnation and judgement, Jesus turns it into a place love, forgiveness, new life and hope
even for his enemies. Journey to Calvary is for Jesus, a journey to freedom and
new life. Cross, suffering death are means to resurrection, hope, and new life. The
very journey we try to avoid, the pain we hesitate to accept, the suffering we
complain against, contains opportunity for grace, for freedom and salvation as
it was for Jesus.
On the first day after his resurrection towards evening Jesus makes another long Pilgrimage , a
pilgrimage in the company of two more, from Jerusalem to Emmaus . This
pilgrimage of Jesus can teach us a lesson or two, on how to be pilgrims of hope
to those who had lost all hope.
Cleophas and his friend are on a
journey. They are going from Jerusalem to Emmaus, from the place of God, from the call they received, back to their old
familiar ways. They had come to Jerusalem with high hopes, to follow someone
they thought will bring them success. Now
all their hopes are dashed. The one in whom they pinned their hope is dead and
even his body seems to be stolen. “They stood still”, St Luke tells us. They
have no more energy and enthusiasm. Their steps are slow. In their words , “we
had hoped”, we can feel the ache of their hearts. On their “sad” faces we can
read their pain and sorrow. They blame their priests and their the leaders for what has happened. Why did
they hand him over to death? Why was one “great in words and deeds”
silenced? Why did his own friends betray
him? Why did God allow such a thing to happen to a ‘Prophet’? Where is justice?
Where is God? They have many questions and few answers. The time is evening. They
are walking towards a sun set. It is
getting dark, there is very little light ahead.
It is not difficult to see ourselves
and those with whom we travel in the place of Cleophas and his friend. We had
made an option for him and come with great hopes to follow him. But now perhaps
our hope is gone, there is tiredness in our steps, there is no more enthusiasm.
We are perhaps caught up in a cycle of blame and accusation, blaming our fellow
brothers and sisters, authorities and bishops.
Our journey is perhaps one of pessimism,
negativity, complaints, grumbling, judging, and blaming. We see pride, politics, and bias in the
decisions of authorities. We doubt the system, we question everyone. Some of us
may be reaching the evening of life, walking away from the community and even from
God. It is not difficult to discover ourselves in these two disciples of
Emmaus.
It is in this situation of
hopelessness that Jesus joins us. He volunteers to join us in our
painful moments just as he took initiative to come to Jericho and look up and
notice Zachheus and invited himself to
be his guest. We may be cautious of this stranger. He notices that we
are upset, angry, agitated and he wants to know why we are looking so sad “What
are the things you are talking about?”, he wants to know. Not that he does
not know, but he wants us to give expression to our doubts and accusations. The
two rather upset with the probing of the stranger asks, “Are you the only
stranger in Jerusalem who does not know all the things that has happened?” The
traveller seems to be living in a strange world, in a dreamy world. The two think
the traveller does not know anything. They think, they know well all that has
happened. The fact is, the traveller knows everything and they know something
of what has happened but nothing of why it has happened. Often we take pride in our knowledge even when
our assumptions and interpretations of what has happened is far from the truth.
The traveller asks “What things?”
The traveller wants to know what are the “all things” the two are
talking about. He wants them to give expression to all their doubts, their accusations,
their blaming, and their interpretations of events. They tell him in detail all
that took place. How this Jesus of Nazareth
was a holy man, a prophet, going around
doing good. They had hoped he would be the Messiah, but how the Priests and leaders
put him to death. The facts they
share are correct. But their
interpretations are wrong. They cannot understand how an innocent person
can suffer, how good man can be put to death, how a buried body can be stolen,
how can God allow such things?
The traveller allows them to talk, as
long as they want, whatever they want. He listens and listens. He does
not interrupt. He does not cut short their story. He does not give quick
solutions, or ready made answers. It is their story, their pain, their
experience. Long miles he walks with them listening. Sometimes they walk in silence.
He understands their painful silence. He does not claim knowledge of the things
they are talking about. He does not reveal that they are speaking about him. He
does not reveal his identity, he leaves to them to discover his identity. Telling
those with whom we walk, those whom we form, that we are a Ph D, we are trained in
Psychology, we had many years in Rome, or years of experience as a Rector or
Counsellor, these claims will not convince them of our identity. They have to
discover who we are in the love, concern, and patient hearing that we give
them. To heal, one must be prepared to walk miles empathetically and silently.
If we don’t understand their silence, we will never understand their words.
Finally when they finish their story,
their story of pain and accusations, death and blaming, the traveller breaks his silence, not to pity them or to give them a long sermon,
but to share his own story. His story is also something similar
to the story the two experienced.
His story is also one of pain and sorrow,
of misunderstanding and betrayal. But
there is a fundamental difference, between
him and them. He does not accuse, condemn, or blame. He does not hold Caiphas,
Pilate, the Priests responsible for what has happened. He sees what has
happened as ‘something necessary’, something planned by God. He sees the hand
of God in his biography of pain and sorrow. He even quoted Moses and
Prophets, to show what has happened is already
foretold long ago. Everything has happened as planned by God.
The two are sceptical about the
explanation they hear. They have heard a lot or preachers give sermons. Though
they were attentive still they don’t understand fully. How can God allow
suffering? How can pain and suffering be something ‘necessary’? How can innocent be crucified? They cannot understand. They still doubt authenticity
and sincerity of the preacher.
The traveller has no more explanations
to offer. He has only one more convincing argument to offer. This time not
in words but in action. So when he was at table he took bread, he
blessed it, he broke it, and gave it to them. In that blessing and breaking and giving, they
discover his identity. He was a at first a strange traveller, then an understanding companion, then an empathetic listener, then a preacher, and now he offers himself as a victim, willing to be
broken and given.
We can be trained counsellors,
experienced formators, qualified psychologists, efficient preachers, quote all
the books of Scripture, walk long miles, but at the end of day, people
recognize us in our ability to break ourselves for them. Our identity is
discovered not in our titles and long degrees before and after our name but by
our living and dying and giving ourselves for them. The Traveller did not preach
his identity. They had to discover it.
The resurrected Jesus is often depicted
with his raised hands as his identity. Just as athletes proudly display their
trophy and raise it high for all to see, so too
Jesus raises his hands to show everyone the price of his victory - the
wounds on hands – that is his trophy, that is his identity.
Where are the wounds you we have suffered
for your people? What are the trophies you display? Is it big buildings, magnificent
churches, books you have written, the grade you got for your school, the decrees after your name, the converts you
have made in your mission? What is that you proudly display? Like Thomas, like the two disciples of
Emmaus, people will not believe your sincerity in these vain displays, but they
will believe in the care and concern you show them, the pain and death you endure for them. They look at the wounds on
your hands and feet!
As Priests every time we take the bread, and bless it, and break
it and give it, let us remember we are the bread. We are the bread taken -
taken from the villages and cities. Someone has seen us, noticed us , wanted us
and taken us. We are bread blessed
- we are consecrated and ordained, his hand of blessing is on us. We
are taken and blessed to be broken. To be given as food we have to be broken. Just like a candle which is not meant to be locked and kept in a locker
but to be lit. Unless it is lit it cannot give light. The moment it is lit, it
begins to die. Just like the salt,
unless it is thrown into hot water and lose its colour and shape, it cannot bring
taste. The wheat has to be powdered and
baked and crushed between teeth, so that
it can be a source of life. it cannot
give life. We are taken and blessed to broken, so that we too can given to bring
life and hope to people to whom we are sent. Broken so that we can be Pilgrims
of hope. Let people recognize us in our willingness to break ourselves for
them.
Conclusion
We are the disciples of Emmaus walking
our pilgrimage of faith. We are walking with Jesus the pilgrim. We are going from Jerusalem to Emmaus, from
the place of God, often walking the opposite way, facing a sunset, facing darkness. Jesus joins us in such
moments. Tell him all that has happened
in your life. Share with him your full story, in detail, let him know your
interpretations too , of what has happened to you, the people you blame for
your situation. Listen to his story, listen to him quote from the Scripture and
explain how he found his suffering and pain was ‘something necessary’. He invites you too to discover the necessity
of things that has happened in your life. In the bread that he breaks, in the Eucharist, we have an undisputable sign of his
love for you. He breaks himself , for you
as he did at Calvary. He shows us his wounds on his hands. Let us also be the
Eucharist, the bread broken for our people.
Let us make our
crosses into trophies of grace, our wounds our pride, our Calvaries into
our place of salvation. Let our Egypts be places of safety and shelter, our Jerusalems, places where we discover our identity, our
Cana’s into launching pads for our ministry. Let our trips to Tyre, Samaria, Bethany, Tabor,
Jericho be opportunities to bring hope and new life to our the Marthas and Marys, to Samaritansand sinners, to Zacheus
and Bartimeus, and Mathews , we meet in
our journey. Let our Emmaus be a place where we encounter the Lord and the
place where we can be broken and given to bring new life and hope. -
Fr T.V. George sdb
