Today’s readings evoke the concept of ransom, a payment to obtain freedom for one held captive or to obtain the return of one’s property. Christ is both the payor and the payment in this transaction – he gives his life and blood as a ransom for many. But his triumph over sin and death was so complete that he was also raised from the dead.
Jesus is the eternal Word who was made flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). He was indeed known before the foundation of the world, as the reading from Peter tells us. But his revelation to mankind came at a point in history when he was born into this world by his Blessed Mother Mary. Through Mary, Jesus was able to become flesh and therefore, like us, fully and completely, except without our sinful nature.
We fleshly beings, the ones who need to be ransomed, are indeed perishable. Like the grass and the flowers, our flesh fades away as winter approaches. One wonders why Jesus would undergo this trauma, becoming fleshly and weak, living in a world of suffering, evil, pain, and death? Somehow, this allowed His work of ransoming, which not only freed us from sin and death but also allowed us to be raised up like Him. His Blessed Mother became our mother, too. And His Father becomes our Father, to whom we dare to pray as He taught us.
It is the most extraordinary story in the world. We will spend eternity thinking about this divine mystery. But what should we do now? Today’s readings suggest that loving one another “intensely from a pure heart” and obeying the truth through “sincere brotherly love” would be a good start. Yet the vestiges of sin cause these commands to present daily challenges for us.
In today’s gospel, we see that even the apostles behaved selfishly and badly. Even though they lived with Jesus and heard his teachings, this intimate knowledge did not prevent them from seeking after their own glory at the expense of others. That is not pure and sincere brotherly love, is it? Perhaps we should not be surprised when these commands to love sometimes trouble us, too. But do you suppose their striving after glory would have been tempered, just a little, if they had understood that they were loved so deeply that Jesus would give his own blood to ransom them, along with the rest of their brethren? This divine mystery was not yet known to them. But it has been made known to us. Does that knowledge have the potential to change the way we see ourselves and others? Even those we find difficult to love?
As we journey on toward our eternal destiny, we are accompanied by these mysteries. Let us draw hope and strength for the journey, even though we do not understand them fully. Perhaps for now it is enough to know that we are deeply loved, even when we struggle to love others, who are also deeply loved by God. And perhaps grace and mercy will be nearby, helping us to love more fully, as we ought. Thanks be to God.
Edward Morse
Ed Morse is a professor of law who holds the McGrath North Endowed Chair in business law at Creighton. University School of Law. He and his wife Susan are Catholic converts. Together, they operate a family cattle farm in rural Western Iowa.
Writing these reflections over the past fifteen years has helped me to learn and grow in faith. Sometimes it has also chastened me by reminding me of the constant need to practice what we have learned as we live out our faith journey together. I am grateful for feedback and encouragement from my fellow travelers.
