5th Sunday of Easter

Do you remember the tale of the dreadful accident on the battleship USS Iowa. It occurred in the spring of 1989. Forty seven young men were killed in a still unexplained explosion in a gun turret. There is much tragedy in the sad story. But also one can find strong threads of glory. The storyteller reminds us the glory belongs, paradoxically perhaps, not to the survivors but to the casualties. The heroes were not the men who may have kept the battleship afloat after the accident. Rather, the heroes were the sailors who died. They shall ever be numbered among the Navy’s honored dead. Writes the poet, “They shall not grow old…At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.” As it was for these young men, so it was for Jesus. So can it be for you and me if of course we have spiritual courage and discipline. Today’s Gospel takes us back to the Last Supper. We listen to the opening strains of the Teacher’s last talk with His closest followers. If you listen even with your hearing aid turned down to low, you will detect no anxiety and no fears in the Christ. Clearly He is not running scared. 

This is remarkable. Remember He knows of the impending betrayal of one of His own. He sees His fast approaching crucifixion with its dreadful pain. The Teacher is circled in majesty. He is the original Mr Cool. He does not require blood pressure pills. This is not a prisoner sitting in a death cell ready to eat the traditional last meal. Rather, He is a King hosting a sumptuous victory banquet. Let me support my statement with irrefutable proof. In the opening two sentences of today’s Gospel, you will find the word glory mentioned an extraordinary five times. Does this sound like a Man who feels He is a loser? Quite the contrary! You would not be surprised to discover this Host pouring aged Napoleon brandy in Baccarat snifters for each of the apostles. Then He would pass around a box of the finest Havanas. 

No doubt, He would say, “Take a second one for the celebration Sunday.” One scholar sums up the situation succinctly. In John’s Gospel, the passion, death, and resurrection of the Teacher are not told as distinct tales. Rather, they are part and parcel of one large story. And the thought that runs throughout the narration is supreme glory. The greatest glory in life, says William Barclay, is glory which comes from sacrifice. Following long-standing traditions, the crew members of the USS Iowa will come together for regular reunions. Their first toast will not be to the survivors but always to the fallen forty seven. Whenever we Catholics and Christians come together as today, we salute not the apostles who survived that Good Friday but our Leader who sacrificed Himself for us. John argues today that the more one puts out, the more one will receive in turn. Thus, the generous giver happily finds himself the subject of Bunyan’s riddle, “The more he threw away, the more he had.” For example, who was the hero of Charles Dicken’s A Tale of Two Cities? 

The beautiful Lucie Manette or Sydney Carton who allowed himself to be guillotined to insure that she might live a life of bliss? Most would answer Mr Carton. Thus, if you and I can somehow break out of the confining envelope of our own selfishness, if we stop hoarding our time, money, and energy, the bigger will the payoff be for our own Christian selves. If we take this Gospel message with the seriousness that John intended, we might well become different men and women. When you grow weary, bring to mind the tested advice of William Ward. “When we are unable, God is able. 

When we are insufficient, God is sufficient. When we are filled with fear, God is always near.” Reflect daily on the dictum which advises Christianity is not just Christ in you but Christ living His life through you. It goes on to say our love for Christ should be faith with working clothes on, So, we must tell everyone about Someone who can save anyone. Your sacrifices will someday bring you much glory. That is both the teaching of history as well as a chief principle in life.