An Exegetical Reflection on the Gospel of the Twenty-Third Sunday of Year A, Matthew 18:21-35, September 11, 2011
In a mid-section of a daily, a report is told of a husband named Rosendo, 24, who locked her wife Joanna, 22, in a room and did not give her any food for a whole day just because she failed to wash her pants. But Joanna had had enough of it. Reporting to a police station in Cubao, Quezon City, she claimed that her hubby, a security guard, punched her after she failed to wash the pants that he was supposed to wear to work. She claimed that when Rosendo came home at about 9 pm one evening, she asked him money for food because she was so hungry; instead, her husband beat her up. The report does not tell us what happened afterward, but one can surmise that their case having gone to the police blotter, their marriage is on the rocks, if not on the verge of being destroyed. It is far cry from the ideal, which is a community of life and love. Human weakness that shows itself in the inability to love and care for each other and to be responsible for one another, destroys the unity that binds them. For what the man does to the woman ultimately affects the covenant of life and love.
Like marriage, the Church has also an ideal. If we limit ourselves to the second reading today, we learn that for Paul, the Church, having been freed from law, sin and death, ought to be a community that lives for God: “None of us lives as his own master and none of us dies as his own master. While we live we are responsible to the Lord and when we die, we die as his servants. Both in life and in death, we are the Lord’s” (Rom 14:7). This means that the existence of the Christian is bound to the risen Christ as his Lord; he shares in his life. In everything he does, his purpose is to be of service to God in Christ. At the same time, he is bound to the other members of the Christian community because these share in the life of the risen Lord. They serve the risen Lord through service to the fellowship. In other words, the evidence that one belongs to the community is exhibited by one’s attitude toward the other members in the fellowship. In the Christian community, then, every Christian is bound to the other. This is why St Paul says: “If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members shall its joy” (1 Cor 12:24). The whole community is involved in anything that a member does, whether good or bad.
Consequently, when a member sins against another, the persons affected are not just the two of them. When Joanna reported the maltreatment by Rosendo to the police, the husband and the wife were not the only ones involved in the scandal. Their children surely suffered public ridicule. When a wife commits adultery, it is not only her husband who is affected; the children live through the hell of it all, and the whole family is in a mess. The same is true of the Christian fellowship. When a member sins against another, the Christian community experiences cracks in its unity and the whole body suffers. Too often, even among Catholics, this dimension of sin is missed. Many think that when they sin, it is God alone whom the offended, or the brother directly involved. Because of this misunderstanding about the nature of sin, the sacrament of reconciliation is little understood. A little appreciation of this sacrament indicates that when someone sins, he sins not only against God and the person involved, but against the whole Christian community, to which the sinning member and the offended party are closely bound spiritually, theologically and sociologically. In the Church, every sin has a social dimension that always involves the whole body, even though it is not personally felt by every member.
Precisely because the members suffer from the sin committed by a single member, the cracks in the unity of the community must be repaired. But in order to preserve the unity and restore the fellowship, what is necessary? Vengeance, of course, is out of question. In the fellowship of mind and heart, only forgiveness can restore the broken relationship. Of course, here we are not dealing with infractions that are very serious. We are concerned here with infractions that are committed every day, most of them trivial and unintentional. Those that are serious were the subject of the Gospel last Sunday. This Sunday’s has to do with trespasses that are commonly encountered in Christian living with others, but that have to be resolved because they affect the fellowship. One cannot but be concerned with them especially once they are repeated. Which explains the question of Peter: “Lord, when my brother wrongs me, how often must I forgive him? Seven times?” (Matt 18:21). Peter, of course, knows that the infraction must be repaired by forgiveness. The sense of the question, however, seems to suppose that the sin of the brother has been repeatedly committed despite admonition by community members, and therefore have become a straining factor in the relationship and fellowship of love.
For Jesus, to the forgiveness of such infractions, there cannot be any limitations: “’No,’ Jesus replied, ‘not seven times; I say, seventy times seven times” (Matt 18:22). Because they are disruptive of the fellowship, such sins must be forgiven without limit, because to do otherwise would deprive the community of its wholeness. In forgiving the brother, the offended party not only frees the offender from the bondage of sin; the injured member is himself given freedom, for without forgiveness, his heart will be filled with resentment and bitterness, which may even take a permanent home in it. And once they pollute the mind and poison the heart, it is possible that resentment and bitter will irreparably destroy the relationship and the fellowship. But this is not to say that it would be easy to forgive. There is no problem if the infraction is repeatedly only once. But if it is repeated say fifty times, that certainly calls for a really Christian disposition—much like forgiving one’s enemies, or turning the other cheek to one who slaps the right one.
Because it is difficult to forgive without limit, Matthew holds up the forgiveness of God as a model to imitate by telling us the parable of the merciless official (Matt 18:21-35). To forgive once is human, but to forgive without limit is divine. Human nature sets limits to forgiveness, but what is distinctively Christian is to remove them. God is always lavish in his forgiveness. This is the main point of the parable, well illustrated by the king who easily cancelled the debt of his servant who owed him ten thousand talents, something like fifty billion pesos in today’s currency exchange. Indeed, even when we do not ask for it, God already gives us. “While we were still sinners, God died for us” (Rom 5:8).
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Big Infractions in the Community--Should the Culprits Be Liquidated?
An Exegetical Reflection on the Gospel of the Twenty-Third Sunday of Year A, Matt 18:15-20, September 4, 2011
Like illicit drugs, kidnappings break the order of society. What is to be done to the people behind them? It is interesting to recall that at a anti-kidnapping summit during the administration of former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo who launched a high-profile crackdown on kidnappings, ordering the Philippine the Philippine National Police to neutralize all kidnap-for-ransom gangs, government officials and private-sector representatives recommended the creation of one anti-kidnap body to handle all kidnap cases. But one speaker at the summit, Rodrigo Duterte of Davao City, declared that summary execution of criminals was the most effective way to stop kidnapping and illicit drugs. A newspaper quoted him as saying that “the intention of the criminals is to instill fear in their victims and kill them. What should we do, but kill them also.” According to the report, some Filipino-Chinese businessmen welcomed Duterte’s hardline stance against members of kidnap-for-ransom gangs—that is, liquidate them.
One wonders whether such instance could be adopted in a Christian community. Should someone who causes destruction be purged from, if not liquidated in, the community? How, indeed, should the community deal with a member whose life or behavior is destructive of the community? Normally, human wisdom demands that the community must be saved from a destructive member. In the name of discipline, for example, we expel from the school students who disregard rules and regulations. The honor of the school must be maintained. It is probably for the same reason that some lay people would wish priests who commit pedophilia be defrocked—they are a disgrace to the Church. Some clamor for zero tolerance. But it seems that the Gospel today does not share that outlook. What matters is not to maintain the purity or honor of the community, but to win back the erring brother. It seems that the gospel says nothing about protecting the community from the wayward member; it is more concerned with bringing back the erring brother to the fellowship: “you have won your brother over” (Matt 18:15b).
How is this done? The Gospel outlines a three-step procedure in reinstating the brother to the fellowship. The first step: “If your brother should commit some wrong against you, go and point out his fault, but keep it between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over” (Matt 18:15). It may be noted that the erring brother is to be informed of his fault. This is an important detail, because many times people are judged without even knowing the wrong they have done—they are simply not aware of it. In addition, confidentiality is emphasized. There is really nothing to be gained by embarrassing an errant brother before the community—it merely deepens the rift, and places him on the defensive to protect his name. The atmosphere of fellowship is protected when the peccant brother is not shamed before the community. On the other hand, by discussing the matter privately, one respects the ego needs and honor of the brother who sins. That way, his reputation is saved and scandal is avoided.
If the private admonition fails to make him realize his sin and bring him to repentance, then the help of one or two other brothers are invoked: “If he does not listen, summon someone, so that every case may stand on the word of two or three witnesses” (Matt 18:16). Obviously, this is an echo of an Old Testament procedure on criminal offense (“a judicial fact shall be established only on the testimony of two or more witnesses”[Deut 19:15]) and of a practice among the Qumranites (1QS 5:25-6:2). One surmises that the purpose of summoning witnesses is, negatively, to avoid serious misjudgment, for the demands may be more than what is necessary, for which reason the erring brother might resist, and, positively, to establish the full truth, which is made possible by the different ways of looking at the problem by the other witnesses. If this fails, the community is convoked: “If he ignores them, refer it to the church” (Matt 18:17). It is the totality of the community members that gives the last word, assured as it is of Christ’s presence: “When two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in their midst” (Matt 18:20). Some scholars think the assurance “that whatever you declare bound on earth shall be held bound in heaven and whatever you declared loosed on earth shall be held loosed in heaven” (Matt 18:18) has reference to God’s ratification at the last judgment. But the sense of the text seems to be that the decision of the community has the authority and sanction in heaven.
“If he ignores even the church, then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector” (Matt 18:17). This last step is usually taken to mean that if the erring brother refuses to listen even to the Church, he must be expelled. It is argued that the thought behind treating the sinful brother like a Gentile or tax collector is this—just as an observant Jew would avoid their company, so a Christian must separate himself from the sinful member who refuses to acknowledge his sin and repent. This finds support in St Paul who says that ties with a peccant brother is severed: “If anyone will not obey our injunction, delivered through this letter, single him out to be ostracized that he may be ashamed of his conduct” (2 Thess 3:14). But this seems not to be the only way of understanding the saying. For one thing, the fundamental question that must be asked is what would this text mean to a community like Matthew’s, that is composed of Jews and Gentiles. It cannot be doubted that the Church of Matthew was a mixed Jewish-Gentile community. For another, Matthew presents Jesus as someone interested in preaching the good news to the Gentiles (Matt 28:19). Also, he invited a tax collector to join the group of disciples (Matt 9:9). In light of this, the injunction can only mean that the erring brother who refuses to listen to the Church must, according to Raymond Brown, “be the subject of outreach and concern in imitation of a Jesus who was so interested in searching out tax collectors that he was accused of being their friend (11:19).” This means “that the community is far from finished with brothers and sisters against whom it has had to invoke authority.”
Like illicit drugs, kidnappings break the order of society. What is to be done to the people behind them? It is interesting to recall that at a anti-kidnapping summit during the administration of former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo who launched a high-profile crackdown on kidnappings, ordering the Philippine the Philippine National Police to neutralize all kidnap-for-ransom gangs, government officials and private-sector representatives recommended the creation of one anti-kidnap body to handle all kidnap cases. But one speaker at the summit, Rodrigo Duterte of Davao City, declared that summary execution of criminals was the most effective way to stop kidnapping and illicit drugs. A newspaper quoted him as saying that “the intention of the criminals is to instill fear in their victims and kill them. What should we do, but kill them also.” According to the report, some Filipino-Chinese businessmen welcomed Duterte’s hardline stance against members of kidnap-for-ransom gangs—that is, liquidate them.
One wonders whether such instance could be adopted in a Christian community. Should someone who causes destruction be purged from, if not liquidated in, the community? How, indeed, should the community deal with a member whose life or behavior is destructive of the community? Normally, human wisdom demands that the community must be saved from a destructive member. In the name of discipline, for example, we expel from the school students who disregard rules and regulations. The honor of the school must be maintained. It is probably for the same reason that some lay people would wish priests who commit pedophilia be defrocked—they are a disgrace to the Church. Some clamor for zero tolerance. But it seems that the Gospel today does not share that outlook. What matters is not to maintain the purity or honor of the community, but to win back the erring brother. It seems that the gospel says nothing about protecting the community from the wayward member; it is more concerned with bringing back the erring brother to the fellowship: “you have won your brother over” (Matt 18:15b).
How is this done? The Gospel outlines a three-step procedure in reinstating the brother to the fellowship. The first step: “If your brother should commit some wrong against you, go and point out his fault, but keep it between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over” (Matt 18:15). It may be noted that the erring brother is to be informed of his fault. This is an important detail, because many times people are judged without even knowing the wrong they have done—they are simply not aware of it. In addition, confidentiality is emphasized. There is really nothing to be gained by embarrassing an errant brother before the community—it merely deepens the rift, and places him on the defensive to protect his name. The atmosphere of fellowship is protected when the peccant brother is not shamed before the community. On the other hand, by discussing the matter privately, one respects the ego needs and honor of the brother who sins. That way, his reputation is saved and scandal is avoided.
If the private admonition fails to make him realize his sin and bring him to repentance, then the help of one or two other brothers are invoked: “If he does not listen, summon someone, so that every case may stand on the word of two or three witnesses” (Matt 18:16). Obviously, this is an echo of an Old Testament procedure on criminal offense (“a judicial fact shall be established only on the testimony of two or more witnesses”[Deut 19:15]) and of a practice among the Qumranites (1QS 5:25-6:2). One surmises that the purpose of summoning witnesses is, negatively, to avoid serious misjudgment, for the demands may be more than what is necessary, for which reason the erring brother might resist, and, positively, to establish the full truth, which is made possible by the different ways of looking at the problem by the other witnesses. If this fails, the community is convoked: “If he ignores them, refer it to the church” (Matt 18:17). It is the totality of the community members that gives the last word, assured as it is of Christ’s presence: “When two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in their midst” (Matt 18:20). Some scholars think the assurance “that whatever you declare bound on earth shall be held bound in heaven and whatever you declared loosed on earth shall be held loosed in heaven” (Matt 18:18) has reference to God’s ratification at the last judgment. But the sense of the text seems to be that the decision of the community has the authority and sanction in heaven.
“If he ignores even the church, then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector” (Matt 18:17). This last step is usually taken to mean that if the erring brother refuses to listen even to the Church, he must be expelled. It is argued that the thought behind treating the sinful brother like a Gentile or tax collector is this—just as an observant Jew would avoid their company, so a Christian must separate himself from the sinful member who refuses to acknowledge his sin and repent. This finds support in St Paul who says that ties with a peccant brother is severed: “If anyone will not obey our injunction, delivered through this letter, single him out to be ostracized that he may be ashamed of his conduct” (2 Thess 3:14). But this seems not to be the only way of understanding the saying. For one thing, the fundamental question that must be asked is what would this text mean to a community like Matthew’s, that is composed of Jews and Gentiles. It cannot be doubted that the Church of Matthew was a mixed Jewish-Gentile community. For another, Matthew presents Jesus as someone interested in preaching the good news to the Gentiles (Matt 28:19). Also, he invited a tax collector to join the group of disciples (Matt 9:9). In light of this, the injunction can only mean that the erring brother who refuses to listen to the Church must, according to Raymond Brown, “be the subject of outreach and concern in imitation of a Jesus who was so interested in searching out tax collectors that he was accused of being their friend (11:19).” This means “that the community is far from finished with brothers and sisters against whom it has had to invoke authority.”
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
What Does It Mean to Follow Jesus?
An Exegetical Reflection on the Gospel of the Twenty-Second Sunday of Year A, Matthew 16:21-27, August 28, 2011
Almost a decade ago, June 19, 2002 to be exact, even as then US President George Bush prepared to make a major Mideast policy statement, an Islamic extremist detonated nail-studded explosives in a Jerusalem city bus crowded with students and office workers, killing himself and 19 passengers, injuring 55 people, sending bodies flying through the windows and peeling off the roof and sides. This was the deadliest attack in Jerusalem since February 25, 1996 when 26 people were killed in a bus explosion. According to the report of the Associated Press, Hamas, an Islamic militant group, claimed responsibility for the blast, identifying the assailant as Mohammed al-Ghoul, 22, from the Al Faras refugee camp near the city of Nablus in the West Bank. Abdel Aziz Rantisi, a Hamas leader in the Gaza Strip, said that their goal in these suicide attacks was the withdrawal of Israel from the West Bank and Gaza Strip, as they did not have the power to liberate all Palestine through such attacks, although one remembers that Hamas leaders in the past used to say that their main objective was the destruction of Israel. Anyhow, though one must condemn such form of violence, one can only remark at how relentless Palestinians stick with their goal. They could even sacrifice their lives in pursuit of that objective.
Would that Christians were as relentless in their pursuit of Christian objectives! For it appears that the exercise of our being Christian leaves much to be desired. For some, being Christian means professing the Roman Catholic faith against every effort of born-again Christians to demonstrate how false the Roman Catholic Church is—it is being a catolico cerrado, even though one does not notice how well they exercise their profession of faith. For others, being Christian is identified with doing what the so-called practicing Catholics are supposed to do—go to Mass on Sunday, abstain on Friday, go to confession and receive other sacraments, and die Catholic. This brand of Catholicism, one notices, is often extremely individualistic, without regard for the common aspiration of the community of Christians, like the parish or the diocese. Against this background, one cannot therefore fail to notice what is remarkable with the Hamas! One can only hope that Christians are as unyielding in their enthusiasm for Christian values that the community needs—like peace and justice.
Still, being Christian is more than that—it is more than an ideology to pursue. In today’s Gospel, Matthew outlines for us the basics of discipleship. First of all, it is a profession of Jesus as the Messiah, as was seen in the Gospel last Sunday. But not just any kind of Messiah—he is a crucified Messiah: “From then on Jesus [the Messiah] started to indicate to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly there at the hands of the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and to be put to death, and raised up on the third day” (Matt 16:21). The first reading gives us a model of what it means to accept the implication of a profession of faith. Jeremiah’s faith in a God who placed his words in his mouth, setting him over nations and kingdoms to root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant (Jer 1:7-10), brought him derision and reproach, making him the object of laughter and mockery (Jer 20:7-8). Similarly, a profession of belief in the messiahship of Jesus entails a living out of that faith in sharing the life and death of the Messiah. Just to make sure that this is not misunderstood, Matthew tells us that when Peter remonstrated Jesus that the Messiah could not suffer and die, tagged him—this man Peter who a moment ago was called blessed—with a harsh appellation, “Satan,” who was trying to make the Messiah trip and fall (Matt 16:22). Matthew seems to portray the apostle Peter as adhering only to a theology of glory and power. That is why Jesus corrected him by offering him a theology of the cross. To profess belief in the messiahship of Jesus is to share in his life and destiny.
How does one share in the life and death of the Messiah? Jesus explained to his followers the practical implications of the theology of the cross: “If a man wishes to come after me, he must deny his very self, take up his cross, and begin to follow in my footsteps” (Matt 16:24). In Filipino popular religiosity, self-denial is sometimes identified with being an ascetic, or engaging in self-flagellation, as is done in some parts of Luzon during Holy Week. Still, one can be an ascetic or a self-flagellant and still remain self-centered. Such a view of self-denial could justify and encourage various forms of oppression. Rather, denying oneself on the one hand implies the affirmation of one’s being a child of God and therefore subordination of his will and desire to God’s will as expressed in the life of Jesus. Obviously, this entails negation of self-centeredness, a complete severance from what people crave after—all forms of self-seeking and self-promotion. It means death to pride, selfishness, and lust for pleasure and power. It means no to self-assertion. On the other hand, it means replacing one’s very “I” with Christ, who alone is the real wealth, all others being counted as rubbish (Phil 3:8b).
In saying that one must take up the cross, Jesus did not mean that this has to be done literally, as do some flagellantes during Holy Week, although it could lead to that. What is meant here is the acceptance of suffering entailed in following Jesus—the rejection and ridicule, opposition and sacrifice of one’s very life, which could literally include carrying the cross and being crucified in it, though today there are other ways of doing this. In following the Lord, one is formed in the pattern of his death. In the words of St Paul, I wish to know “how to share in his sufferings by being formed into the pattern of his death” (Phil 3:10). That way, one carries in his body the death of Jesus: “We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destroyed. Continually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live, we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal bodies” (2 Cor 4:8-11). This mystery of the cross is likewise reflected in a deutero-Pauline letter; “Even now I find my joy in the suffering I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the Church” (Col 1:24).
Almost a decade ago, June 19, 2002 to be exact, even as then US President George Bush prepared to make a major Mideast policy statement, an Islamic extremist detonated nail-studded explosives in a Jerusalem city bus crowded with students and office workers, killing himself and 19 passengers, injuring 55 people, sending bodies flying through the windows and peeling off the roof and sides. This was the deadliest attack in Jerusalem since February 25, 1996 when 26 people were killed in a bus explosion. According to the report of the Associated Press, Hamas, an Islamic militant group, claimed responsibility for the blast, identifying the assailant as Mohammed al-Ghoul, 22, from the Al Faras refugee camp near the city of Nablus in the West Bank. Abdel Aziz Rantisi, a Hamas leader in the Gaza Strip, said that their goal in these suicide attacks was the withdrawal of Israel from the West Bank and Gaza Strip, as they did not have the power to liberate all Palestine through such attacks, although one remembers that Hamas leaders in the past used to say that their main objective was the destruction of Israel. Anyhow, though one must condemn such form of violence, one can only remark at how relentless Palestinians stick with their goal. They could even sacrifice their lives in pursuit of that objective.
Would that Christians were as relentless in their pursuit of Christian objectives! For it appears that the exercise of our being Christian leaves much to be desired. For some, being Christian means professing the Roman Catholic faith against every effort of born-again Christians to demonstrate how false the Roman Catholic Church is—it is being a catolico cerrado, even though one does not notice how well they exercise their profession of faith. For others, being Christian is identified with doing what the so-called practicing Catholics are supposed to do—go to Mass on Sunday, abstain on Friday, go to confession and receive other sacraments, and die Catholic. This brand of Catholicism, one notices, is often extremely individualistic, without regard for the common aspiration of the community of Christians, like the parish or the diocese. Against this background, one cannot therefore fail to notice what is remarkable with the Hamas! One can only hope that Christians are as unyielding in their enthusiasm for Christian values that the community needs—like peace and justice.
Still, being Christian is more than that—it is more than an ideology to pursue. In today’s Gospel, Matthew outlines for us the basics of discipleship. First of all, it is a profession of Jesus as the Messiah, as was seen in the Gospel last Sunday. But not just any kind of Messiah—he is a crucified Messiah: “From then on Jesus [the Messiah] started to indicate to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly there at the hands of the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and to be put to death, and raised up on the third day” (Matt 16:21). The first reading gives us a model of what it means to accept the implication of a profession of faith. Jeremiah’s faith in a God who placed his words in his mouth, setting him over nations and kingdoms to root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant (Jer 1:7-10), brought him derision and reproach, making him the object of laughter and mockery (Jer 20:7-8). Similarly, a profession of belief in the messiahship of Jesus entails a living out of that faith in sharing the life and death of the Messiah. Just to make sure that this is not misunderstood, Matthew tells us that when Peter remonstrated Jesus that the Messiah could not suffer and die, tagged him—this man Peter who a moment ago was called blessed—with a harsh appellation, “Satan,” who was trying to make the Messiah trip and fall (Matt 16:22). Matthew seems to portray the apostle Peter as adhering only to a theology of glory and power. That is why Jesus corrected him by offering him a theology of the cross. To profess belief in the messiahship of Jesus is to share in his life and destiny.
How does one share in the life and death of the Messiah? Jesus explained to his followers the practical implications of the theology of the cross: “If a man wishes to come after me, he must deny his very self, take up his cross, and begin to follow in my footsteps” (Matt 16:24). In Filipino popular religiosity, self-denial is sometimes identified with being an ascetic, or engaging in self-flagellation, as is done in some parts of Luzon during Holy Week. Still, one can be an ascetic or a self-flagellant and still remain self-centered. Such a view of self-denial could justify and encourage various forms of oppression. Rather, denying oneself on the one hand implies the affirmation of one’s being a child of God and therefore subordination of his will and desire to God’s will as expressed in the life of Jesus. Obviously, this entails negation of self-centeredness, a complete severance from what people crave after—all forms of self-seeking and self-promotion. It means death to pride, selfishness, and lust for pleasure and power. It means no to self-assertion. On the other hand, it means replacing one’s very “I” with Christ, who alone is the real wealth, all others being counted as rubbish (Phil 3:8b).
In saying that one must take up the cross, Jesus did not mean that this has to be done literally, as do some flagellantes during Holy Week, although it could lead to that. What is meant here is the acceptance of suffering entailed in following Jesus—the rejection and ridicule, opposition and sacrifice of one’s very life, which could literally include carrying the cross and being crucified in it, though today there are other ways of doing this. In following the Lord, one is formed in the pattern of his death. In the words of St Paul, I wish to know “how to share in his sufferings by being formed into the pattern of his death” (Phil 3:10). That way, one carries in his body the death of Jesus: “We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destroyed. Continually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live, we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal bodies” (2 Cor 4:8-11). This mystery of the cross is likewise reflected in a deutero-Pauline letter; “Even now I find my joy in the suffering I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the Church” (Col 1:24).
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