Daily Readings
Reflection by Tom Cummins, a parishioner
Today’s gospel
reading leaves me a little disoriented. This Feast of St. John, Apostle and
Evangelist - with the passage from John’s Gospel about finding the tomb empty -
is stuck between the Feast of Saint Stephen, Martyr, and the Feast of the Holy
Innocents, Martyrs. We have the feast day of the one “Jesus loved” surrounded
by martyrs. A grim setting in the lectionary cycle.
But that
is not what has me disoriented. It’s that just two days ago we celebrated the
birth of the baby Jesus. Just two days ago! The scrap of wrapping paper behind
the couch remains undiscovered. A tin of fudge from the neighbor has a couple
of pieces left … still there but not forgotten. Christmas lights throughout the
neighborhood will glow in the night for several more days.
But in
today’s reading, the tomb is empty! And, therefore, so is the manger. Our
salvation story – Jesus’ birth and Resurrection - collapsed into two days.
Why are we
so quickly reminded of these things to come? That the heavenly host and the
adoring shepherds are to be replaced by jeering soldiers. The magi bearing
gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh for the newborn baby become Nicodemus
bringing great quantities of myrrh and aloes for the burial of the King of
Kings. Swaddling clothes are now burial cloths. Mary and Joseph in adoring awe and
wonder, become a few disciples staring in awe and fear into Jesus’ empty tomb.
Abrupt. Why?
What’s the point now?
I’m most
assuredly off base, but I feel this: It’s because we are a Resurrection people.
The tomb is always empty. No
matter what the feast day, liturgical memorial, or simply a day in ordinary
time, the tomb is empty – He is Risen! We need the reminder.
We need the
reminder because we can become so mesmerized by the grandness we have placed
upon the Christmas season. Don’t we wish that the Holy Family could spend many
peaceful days posing for our Christmas cards while the cattle shift around in
their straw bedding, and visitors keep dropping by with their gifts? It’s not
to be. This is only the beginning of a story that is, at once, sorrowful yet
joyful
I’m
probably making more of this reading’s placement than is necessary. But in my
reflection I find myself looking away from our lovely crèche at the left-front
of our church and directing my attention to the body of Jesus on the cross
above the altar. That is what was started with birth of the Christ Child. Jesus
on the cross is the enduring symbol of our forgiveness and redemption.
Today I’m
being asked to put down my eggnog for a moment and kneel in prayer, a prayer of
gratitude and thanksgiving.
+In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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