Today’s liturgy reminds me of the
passage in the Book of Numbers when the Israelites are worn out from their
journey through the desert, and they complain, “We are disgusted with this
wretched food,” that is, with the manna. After punishing them with serpents,
God accepts Moses’ intervention and has him mount a bronze serpent on a pole,
and whoever has been bitten and then looked at the serpent was healed. Today we
have the true bronze serpent lifted up in our midst, Our Lord Jesus Christ. To
him, we must look to be constantly healed of our sins and foibles.
But our look must not be one of
curiosity, but of faith. That is, fully accepting and trusting that somehow God
would bring good out of this most horrific act. When Jesus was raised upon the
cross, he endured every humiliation for our sake – friends abandoning him, foes
gloating over him, unimaginable pain and suffering – the whole human condition.
He also suffered the heart-wrenching sight of his mother standing by the cross.
But there she was, steadfast, faithful to the end. It is Mary’s faith that is
such an important witness for us. She looked on him whom others had pierced – I
don’t think it is too much to say that she contemplated and pondered the whole
miserable scene in her heart, trusting God’s will. And so, she became a model
for all believers, especially for contemplatives, among whom we are numbered.
I want to say that Mary’s look at
her Son was an act of faith. In the darkness, she waited. After listening to her
Son for so many years speak of the Father, and having her own experience of the
working of the Spirit, she had only one desire: to wait for God to act, knowing
that all things were possible with God. That is what the contemplative life is
like: waiting for God, trusting in God. In Mary’s case, her compassionate
waiting was like an opening through which God could act. She was present not
just for herself but for all those whom her Son had entrusted to her,
especially the Church coming to birth. Through her fiat at the cross, the
divine mercy was let loose to flow out to all those who would believe, to all
those who would have the courage to face the degradation which their sins had
caused her Son and others.
Brothers, this is our vocation, too. Today and every day, we must look upon the Son of Man and Mary’s son with the eyes of faith. This is our mission as contemplatives. It is what God wants in order to unleash his healing mercy into our world through us, silently and secretly, as he did with Our Lady.
Image by Georges Rouault. This afternoon's homily by Abbot Vincent.
