Easter 3 (B) + The Face of God + 4.19.15
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| Volto Santo of Manoppello, photo by Paul Badde |
Melissa Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
While in their joy they were
disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, "Have you anything here
to eat?"
In the past couple of
weeks I had an experience that gave me just a glimpse at what the disciples
must have been feeling in this first moment of seeing the resurrected Christ. I
read a book called The Face of God by
Paul Badde, a German journalist who works in Rome. In his work in and around
the Vatican and other news reporting, he caught wind of an image of Jesus in
the Abruzzi Mountains in Italy, not far from Rome. After studying this image
with a nun, they discovered that the image of Jesus on the cloth at Manoppello
lines up exactly with the face on the Shroud of Turin, a linen cloth that some
believe was wrapped around Jesus’ body as it was placed in the tomb. In this
book of over 300 pages Badde describes in detail how he believes in the
possibility that this small piece of cloth, woven with the fine silk of the
mussels of a certain island, may contain an almost photographic image of that
most amazing moment. With caution he raises the possibility that the impression
was taken through the Shroud of Turin onto the cloth at exactly the moment of
Jesus’ resurrection to life again. Although he does not explicitly state this,
his lengthy explanation of how one cannot paint on this type of cloth, as well
as scientific proofs about the cloth and other cloths associated with images of
Jesus, point to this amazing possibility.
At the beginning of this
book, I found the whole premise rather doubtful, rather feeling that no matter
what image of Christ you have, it is the relationship you have with Jesus in
your heart that counts. But as I read, I did begin to ask myself “Why not?” How
wonderful would it be if we did in fact have an image of that instant, that
moment in which our Lord Jesus, who was really and truly, stick a lance in his
side, dead, was resurrected to life, into an eternal body? I mean, how cool would
that be? And there is something in viewing the eyes of this particular image,
this perhaps first icon, or true-icon, that at the same time fascinates and
somewhat repels the observer.
Now, this is not a
photograph, of the traditional sort, and it is probably not painted, if the
experts are to be believed, even though it has some painterly aspects. Now, if
you believe that this could be a true image of Jesus, or if you are not so
certain about that, it’s all good. But I love to reflect on the miracle of that
moment, when the light and love of God broke the chains of death and showed us
that we are truly in God’s world, as the hymn says today “My Father’s World.”
We are not in the world solely of human power or malignant forces, but we are
truly in God’s world, a world in which resurrection can and does happen.
What a Mystery!
When I perceive a mystery,
my heart feels a profound sense of joy, but often my mind is slow to accept it.
And that’s what it must
have been like for the disciples, but even more, because here was Jesus, in the
flesh. Jesus, who was very much dead, and was born again, but in a body which,
as Bill pointed out last week, was still bearing its wounds.
And the first thing that
Jesus does is look at the disciples and share his peace with them.
Can you imagine how
incredulous the disciples must be feeling at this moment?
And when he sees that they
are still not able to understand (and can we blame them?) he knows that he
needs to show them that he is not a ghost, but a man of flesh and blood. He’s
hungry. And they give him a piece of broiled fish—that lovely, delicate little
mention. And here is another mystery of our faith—we see or talk about
something extraordinary, and then we do the ordinary. We eat. We do the things
of life. In the prayer that we say for the Holy Communion, we discuss God’s marvelous
acts in salvation history, and then, what do we do? We eat. Sure, it’s not just
any bread and wine, but the spiritual body and blood of our Lord, but we remain
in that holy tension between the sublime and the mundane.
But Jesus doesn’t stay
there in that fabulous moment with the disciples, in his resurrected body,
hanging out and eating a bite at their side like he always did before. No, now
things have changed. He has things to do. He cannot stay but must depend on us
to continue his ministry. To share the good news that is forgiveness and
reconciliation. This may seem an over-simplification of the good news, but the
truth is that these are the basic precursors for any other faith development.
How can you understand and incorporate into your life the timeless truths of
the holy scriptures if you have not first felt deep in your heart the deep
forgiveness of God washing over you? If you have not experienced reconciliation
with God in community? If you have not had this experience, all your
understanding will stay in the head and will likely never reach the heart, where
it changes how you live. Without God’s love and its transforming power, we can
easily stay captive to sin and all that separates us from God.
And it is our duty to
share this same love with one another. The other day I was listening to an
interview between Krista Tippett and John Lewis, a congressman from Georgia who
was also one of the “Big Six” Leaders of the Civil Rights Movement of the
1960s. And he described the moments when he was marching and how he came into
contact with angry police officers who wanted to beat him or otherwise shut him
down. He described looking upon these officers with love, and how he tried to
look at them and see the beloved children that they once were with their
mothers.[1]
To,
in a sense, remember for them their identity as beloved children of God. And
this love, a strong and realistic love, not a romantic sensibility that we
sometimes talk about, this love made me think of Jesus. And how he looks upon
us.
In his book The Face of God, Paul Badde quotes a
Jewish philosopher who said “A disarmed face can disarm the other person.”[2]
And that’s what Jesus does to us, if we let him. He disarms us with his love.
And he invites us to infect the world with his love that breaks down barriers,
not just the barriers of death and the powers of this world, but that also
breaks our hearts so that they can be reconstructed in his image.
We will be like him. It is
a mystery. This truly is God’s world. Alleluia!
[1]
“Transcript for John Lewis—The Art & Discipline of Nonviolence,” por Krista
Tippett, January 15, 2015 (http://www.onbeing.org/program/john-lewis-the-art-discipline-of-nonviolence/transcript/7229).
[2]
Paul Badde, The Face of God: The Rediscovery
of the True Face of Jesus: On the Holy Face of Manoppello (San Francisco:
Ignatius Press, 2006), 318.
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