Irony that hurts

Isn't it ironic. . .

An old man turned ninety-eight

He won the lottery and died the next day

It's a black fly in your Chardonnay

It's a death row pardon two minutes too late

And isn't it ironic?

It's like rain on your wedding day

It's a free ride when you've already paid

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

See if you can follow my thinking here--Jesus and the disciples have just shared the first Lord's Supper--eleven of them at least, as Judas has just been 'outed' as the Lord's betrayer, and has fled the upper room.  It is a solemn, intimate time, shared that night, when just before dinner in the ultimate act of servitude, Jesus washes the dirty feet of his men.  Yes, he models the heart of a true servant, forever leaving for us an example to follow--to take up the "towel and basin" and serve others.  And then--the disciples start arguing about which of them is the greatest!!  Don't you find that tragically ironic?  The Greatest among them--the Greatest of all--serves them in this the last free night before he would be arrested--and instead of embracing his message, and entering into the solemnity of his circumstances --they start vying for power?  "Isn't it ironic?"  Power, not service, dominates their thinking.

Before reading what Jesus tells them about how to view authority, could we consider for a moment how Jesus felt?  There is no doubt that Jesus had experienced sadness in his lifetime before this, and loneliness, too; for instance, think of the 40 days he spent alone and fasting in the wilderness, with only the Tormentor to dog him.  But that was as his ministry was launched, and before he had called the Twelve.  Here we are at the end of his ministry, and these who he had called, trained, loved, and lived life with, were so easily caught up with themselves that they forgot him.  It saddens me so to think how lonely Jesus felt right then.  First, there was Judas, but then--so quickly the Eleven showed their weakness too. (as we will see--they were too weak to watch and pray, too weak to speak out when he was accused. . . can you just think of the tragedy of this for our Lord?  It is not that it surprised him, but it would have hurt him nonetheless.  As you know, it is those who are closest to us, closest to our hearts, who have the greatest ability to hurt us; the disciples were closest to Jesus.)   And, have you ever thought about Jesus being lonely?  He sure was that night . . .

"Why should Jesus be lonely?  Why is anybody lonely?  Loneliness is an absolutely foundational, fundamental human experience.  Why is that? Because we send out these little tendrils of ourselves and hope they grab onto something and grow and nothing happens. They reach only into air and so they wither.  So the sense that I am never going to be really connected, at my deepest and most true point with anybody else is why there's loneliness and this is just a generic statement of loneliness.  There is more.

How many people, do you think in Jesus' own life really understood him, what he was all about?  Even his mother, we have in the gospel of Luke, was walking around scratching her head.  "She did not understand what he said but she treasured all these things in her heart."  Who understood Jesus' way of looking at the world, really?  To read the gospels with all their theological overlay, and even there we've got Philip saying: we're clueless . . . and Jesus’ response, "Have I been with you all this time Philip and you still do not know me?"  How many people was Jesus able to share his vision of life with?   Nobody.   Was Jesus lonely?  I suspect an enormous part of his life was lived in a felt sense of isolation..."** 

Jesus doesn't tell them how they made him feel--but they must have thought about it all later . . . no, instead, Jesus tells them that their faithfulness to him will one day be rewarded with authority in his coming kingdom.

All of us have felt lonely at times, or will--especially in different seasons of our lives.  I'm sure there is no greater loneliness than a wife losing a husband, a young child losing her mother . . . But, remember again that there is no pain you will ever experience that the Lord does not understand.  He has experienced it all.  If you are there now, I offer this prayer for you-- 'Dear Father, would you comfort my sister, my aunt, _____, and give them a sense of your presence? Grant them your peace.  And, thank you for being willing to experience the incredible loneliness you endured for us.  Give us strength . . .     Amen'

May you bless God today,

Christine

**some thoughts from a message by Father Ron Trojcak of Huron College