I don’t know how many of you ever have heard—or perhaps even have
uttered—words like those my Dad used when he first evaluated my
brother-in-law who, at the time, was a freshman in high school.
After my brother-in-law and sister left on what was to be their
first “date,” my Dad wagged his head in disbelief and said to my
Mom: “Fran, I just don’t know what she sees in him.” Much to his
chagrin, my Dad has had to “eat” those words because my sister and
brother-in-law have been married for almost 35 years. Evidently, my
sister knew what she saw because my brother-in-law is a great
husband and father to their three (now adult) children.
As we look at people, we oftentimes survey them to confirm what
we’ve already decided. Sometimes, however, we go even further,
using those facts to justify why we are right to slam the door and
shut those people out of our lives. In short, we see what we
know. Then, we act upon what we know, oftentimes much to our
chagrin.
To “see what we know” is to impose our ideas and concepts upon other
people, that is, to judge them according to our personal likes and
dislikes, like my Dad looking at and judging my sister’s boyfriend.
To “know what we see” is to view other people as children of
God—created in the divine image and likeness—that is, to see and
love in them what God sees and loves in Christ, God’s only begotten
Son, like my sister did when looking at her boyfriend.
Jesus was executed on Good Friday because he associated with people
whom all of Jesus’ disciples, family members, and co-religionists
stubbornly slammed the door and shut out of their lives. They
saw what they knew, namely, sinners. But, as Jesus
related with these very same people, Jesus knew what he
saw, namely, children of God created in the divine image and
likeness. Because Jesus did not stubbornly slam the door and shut
sinners out of his life, the blind saw, the deaf heard, the mute
spoke, the lame walked, and prisoners were freed from the bars
detaining them. In short, Jesus knows what he sees—he
knows that all of those “sinners” are beloved by God, and Jesus
acted upon this knowledge, treating the blind, the deaf, the mute,
the lame, and prisoners not as despicable and deserving to be
shunned, but as God’s beloved, human beings created in God’s image
and likeness and deserving to be embraced. Whereas all of Jesus’
disciples, family members, and co-religionists turned their backs on
these people and stubbornly slammed the door and shut these sinners
out of their lives, Jesus embraced these sinners with the forgiving
love of God Himself.
Today’s feast—the Solemnity of Easter—is not about seeing what we
know, stubbornly slamming the door and shutting people out of our
lives, and living to regret it, much to our chagrin. No, today’s
feast is about the miraculous gift of forgiveness we can offer
others because we know what we see and—like Jesus—open the doors of
our lives and homes by embracing sinners with the forgiving love of
God Himself.
In this regard, today’s gospel made what is, in my opinion, a most
interesting observation.
Early Sunday morning while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to
the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the
entrance. She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciple, the
one whom Jesus loved. Mary saw what she knew and exclaimed, “They
have taken the Lord’s body out of the tomb, and I don’t know where
they have put him!” So, Peter and the other disciple ran to the
tomb to see. The other disciple out ran Peter and got there first.
He stooped and looked in and saw the linen cloth lying there, but he
didn’t go in. Then Simon Peter arrived and went inside. He also
noticed the linen wrappings lying there, with the cloth that had
covered Jesus’ head folded up and lying to the side. In contrast to
Mary, the two disciples knew what they saw.
After his resurrection, why did Jesus neatly fold the linen burial
cloth and carefully place it to the side? Was he suffering from
obsessive compulsive disorder? I certainly think not!
To grasp the significance of the folded napkin and what this means
about knowing what we see, we need to understand a little bit about
Hebrew tradition of Jesus’ day. The folded napkin had to do with
the Master-servant relationship. When the servant set the dinner
table for the Master, the servant made sure it was set exactly the
way the Master wanted it. Once perfectly set, the servant would
then wait just out of sight until the Master finished eating.
When the Master had finished eating, he would rise from the table,
wipe his fingers and mouth with the napkin and toss it on top of the
table. The servant then knew it was time to clear the table
because, in those days, the wadded napkin signaled, “I’m finished.”
But, if the master got up from the table, folded his napkin, and
laid it beside his plate, the servant knew that the folded napkin
signaled, “I’m not finished yet.” The Master was telling his
servant, “Wait, because I’m coming back!”
Every Jewish child—even Jesus—knew this tradition.
So, what is this all about? “The cloth that had covered Jesus’ head
was folded up and lying to the side.” Is it significant?
Absolutely! After his resurrection from the dead, Jesus folded up
the cloth that had covered his face and carefully placed it to the
side and, by doing so, suggested to his disciples, “I’m not finished
yet. Wait, because I’m coming back to finish.”
Mary Magdalene saw what she knew that early Sunday morning while it
was still dark. That is, Jesus was dead and his body gone. So,
Mary told Simon Peter and the other disciple whom Jesus loved, “They
have taken the Lord’s body out of the tomb, and I don’t know where
they have put him!” In contrast, when Peter and the other disciple
saw the neatly-folded linen cloth lying to the side, both knew what
they saw: Jesus was coming back, he was not finished with his saving
work.
The question for us this Easter Sunday is: What do you see when you
look into the tomb? These facts: Jesus has died and his body
stolen? That’s to see what we know. Or, do you see this simple
fact: a neatly folded cloth set to the side? That’s to know what
one sees. Jesus is has not yet finished his saving work and is
coming back. The answer to question “What do you see when you
look into the tomb?” will evidence itself when we no longer dare to
say things like, “I just don’t know what she sees in him” which
leads to regrets, but when we utter to the sinners we have shut out
of our lives and homes, “I forgive you,” which leads to no regrets.
For many of us, Lent was a 40-day time of preparation for this day.
We looked into our hearts and came to terms with what knew about
ourselves, others, and even God. We did this in order to turn away
from seeing what we know so that we might know what see. That’s why
today, while some look into the tomb and see nothing but the same
old emptiness, pain, hurt, frustration, and despair that results
from seeing what they know. But, because Jesus’
disciples—those who love God and neighbor as they love
themselves—know what they see—that is, Jesus is Risen—they
experience life anew and the miraculous and heal power of
forgiveness enabling them to welcome sinners into their
lives and homes.
The on-going miracle of forgiveness—the only miracle each and every
one of us is capable of performing—provides proof positive that we
know what we see when we look into the tomb: Jesus is Risen. And,
because of this faith in the resurrection of the dead, in lives and
homes where sinners had previously been stubbornly shut out, the
blind will now see, the deaf will now hear, the mute will now speak,
the lame will now walk, and prisoners will now be freed from the
bars detaining them. |