Father Tim Lemlin
Some believe that this story serves as a good example of what Jesus does for us. Jesus, by his death, it is said, takes away all of our sins and we start with a clean slate. It's similar to the slogan, "Forgive and forget." Many of us, if not all of us, know that forgiving doesn't necessarily mean forgetting. Nor does it mean that the pain caused by the wound inflicted by another disappears once forgiveness is rendered.
When I was younger, I was hurt by another whom I respected and called friend. I suspect that this person had no idea the devastation caused by the words of rejection (perceived correctly or incorrectly) that I received.
Our opening story has merit also. Jesus does become like us, St. Paul reminds us, and we all do participate in Jesus' identity. We are all baptized into Christ Jesus our reading from Romans tells us. But what does this mean? Does it mean that all the hurts that life brings us simply disappear? Does it mean now that we have a new identity all pain goes away? Does it mean that the man in our opening story who received an opportunity for a new identity was immediately transformed? Does it mean that the selfless act of love we receive from God causes us to instantaneously assume the identity of the Divine?
The wound I received caused me pain for close to twenty years. I can still see the event as it happened, but the pain is essentially gone. I am no longer the person I was. The process of transformation has brought me to see the hurt that I have caused others. Forgiving only seems to heal when we come from a place of equality rather than a place of superiority or inferiority.
The disciples of Jesus are nearly consumed with fear. Their leader is convicted of subversive activity against the state and the church and is put to death. Their first reaction is to deny any association with him. They completely abandon him. Somehow they must have misread his intentions. Was he truly a criminal? Were they, his lowly disciples, really superior to him? Then, the unexpected happens, Jesus visits with them. He comes among them not to condemn them, but he is wounded. He is also healed. He is a mirror image of each who looks at him. The significance of this experience takes the disciples some time to glean, but gradually healing takes place. A new reality begins to break into their consciousness.
St. Paul will call this awareness the Body of Christ, in which all are equal by God's design, and the need to see ourselves as superior or inferior subsides - though usually not completely.
This awareness grows in St. Paul when he hears Jesus say, "…why are you persecuting me?" Paul is befuddled. He is not persecuting this superior being. He is bringing to justice people who are following the new way (followers of Jesus). Confusion blinds him until he hears a disciple of Jesus call him brother - equal. Then, it dawns on him and his eyes are open. He has been living his life as one who is superior to others which leads him to judge and condemn people less they make him feel inferior to them.
Isn't this really the cause of our pain? A friend or a spouse breaks our trust. We are abused. War causes the death of a son or daughter. A drunk driver kills our spouse. Our child overdoes while using drugs. An illness claims the life of a friend or relative. A medical miscue causes paralysis. Each, in their own way, makes us feel diminished either by God or by another, and we hurt. Our reaction is to disassociate ourselves from the one whom we perceive as causing us pain. The path back to superiority has changed through the years (in our age it is usually the course of suing another, or demanding the death penalty) but they all lead to seeking ways to make the other (including God) inferior to me. This is the path of fear. St. Paul calls it the enslavement of sin.
The resurrection of Jesus is God telling us that nothing can make us superior or inferior. It is God telling us that all our efforts to be healed of our pain through superiority or inferiority is like looking at an empty tomb. It is God telling us that our wounds cannot be escaped or forgotten, but their sting can be removed. It is God telling us to come and feast, and become what you eat and drink. It is Jesus appearing to us asking, "…why are you persecuting me?"
The path to light is darkness. The path to life is death. The path to resurrection is the three days in the tomb. The path to freedom is equality in God.
