Open Wide the Doors

A few weeks ago, many of our priests and deacons gathered together at the diocese for our continuing education days, which we have twice a year. In one of the sessions, our speaker focused on the Gospel that we just heard, and he asked us to identify which word stood out to us – one single word. Was there a word that stood out to you? I can see some of you searching back through your missals right now. Don’t worry, I won’t call on you.

The word that immediately jumped to my mind then, and did again just now, is the word “locked”. Twice we read in this Gospel passage that the disciples were behind “locked doors.” At first, that might seem like an odd or irrelevant detail. We are dealing with the major events of Jesus’s death and apparent resurrection. What does it matter about the doors?

Sometimes, a good storyteller will include a detail which seems insignificant but which is in fact clues us in to what is really going on – and Saint John the Evangelist, the author of our today’s account, was a really good storyteller. By telling us that the doors were locked, what he’s really doing is telling us about the interior dispositions of the disciples. They were afraid, and more than afraid – closed off, shut down, locked away from everything outside of themselves. They were fearful of those who had put Jesus to death, they were fearful perhaps of further betrayal and division among themselves, and they may even have been fearful of Jesus himself – who, if he was risen, would perhaps surely be less than pleased that they had abandoned him in his time of need.

However, as we hear, locked doors are of no concern to the Risen Christ – not the physical doors that he passes through easily, nor the closed off doors of the disciples’ hearts. Twice he breaks through both because he desires to be *with* his disciples. He desires, as we hear, to stand in their midst, to show them his glorious victory, and to communicate to them his peace, a peace stronger than fear and death. The Lord’s peace is accompanied with the presence of the Holy Spirit, that heals and restores the friendship he has with his disciples, and which prepares them to be sent to communicate that same peace to others.

Image of the Divine Mercy (1982) by Robert Skemp

We might say that this peace that Jesus gives is also known to us by another name: Divine Mercy. Our celebration of the Sunday of Divine Mercy comes a week after Easter Sunday, at the end of our eight-day Octave of Easter, as a reminder that it is only in and through the Paschal Mystery of Jesus – his Passion, Death, and Resurrection – that God’s mercy is extended to us. We can have true peace, we receive Divine Mercy, because of what Jesus has done for us, and because in his new and risen life, we too are raised to something higher. Not only is our individual relationship with the Lord transformed, but also our relationship with all those to whom the same gifts are given. That’s why at Mass we exchange a Sign of Peace – offering it to each other as an expression of the grace of forgiveness that the Lord has given to us and which we freely extend to each other.

The peace of Jesus is also the instrument by which he opens the doors to our locked hearts. In one of the most famous images of Divine Mercy, he stands in front of a closed door, as if he has just passed through whatever was keeping him out. The season of Easter is a good time to reflect upon our interior dispositions – our fears, our anxieties, the sources of resentment and hardness of heart – and to pray intentionally for each of those things to be unlocked by the transforming forgiveness of the Risen Christ. Jesus can overcome any obstacle, any barrier that stands between us and him, and often he will break through them in a surprising way to show us the power of his love. And the same time, the Lord would prefer if we willingly open the doors of our hearts, welcoming him with faith and joy. Whatever our fear or anxiety, he urges us to remember those immortal words of Saint John Paul II, “Be not afraid… Open wide the doors to Christ!”

Friends, let’s reflect upon where we can do just that. Let’s ask ourselves, in the joy of this Easter season, “How can Jesus unlock new life for me? Where do I need to hear again his healing words of peace?” May this holy season be a time of renewal in our friendship with him, days of our continuing education in our discipleship, so that the merciful power of the Risen Lord may open wide our doors – to him and to all. “Peace be with you,” he says to each of us. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

The Master Has Need of You

Palm Sunday is the only day of the year in which we hear two Gospel readings at Mass. We tend to focus on the reading we just heard, the narrative of Jesus’s Passion and Death. But it’s such a powerful reading; maybe it’s better to let it speak for itself. Perhaps a better way to enter into Holy Week is to take a moment to reflect upon the Gospel at the beginning of today’s liturgy, the story of Jesus entering into Jerusalem.

In that reading, we heard that before Jesus makes his way into Jerusalem he sends two disciples ahead of him to find an animal for him to ride in on: in Matthew’s account, a colt and a donkey. And Jesus tells those two disciples that when they are asked by the animals’ owner what they are doing they are to say, “The Master has need of them.” 

“The Master has need of them.” Interesting – Jesus is in need. He who is going into Jerusalem to fulfill his Father’s will, he who as God and Man is at the brink of undoing the ancient evil of sin and death and throwing open the doors of heaven, is himself in need of something first. The whole drama of God’s plan of salvation hinges upon those willing to cooperate with what the Lord needs.

James Tissot, The Foal of Bethpage (c. 1890)

And so it is still today. The Lord’s plan of salvation has been accomplished, but Jesus is still unfolding his redemption in the world around us. And he does so asking us to cooperate with him, asking us to bring him what we have because he has need of it. He has need of our generosity, our material goods, our work and our service, to bring help and healing to those in need, such as those who suffered damage and devastation from Friday’s storms. He has need of our mercy and our compassion, to help heal divisions, to bring peace to the brokenhearted, and reconciliation in homes and in families. He has need of our teaching, our example, our commitment, to give witness of our faith to the world, especially to our young people. In some way, the Lord calls each of us this week to do something for him, to be at his disposal, so that his work of redemption can take place in a fuller and deeper way. Even if we feel we have nothing we can give – even if we ourselves are suffering and in need – the Lord asks us to bring him our faith, our perseverance, our trust, so that even our emptiness can become a sign of his fullness.

Friends, as we listen this week to hear how the Master sends us, to see how he has need of us, let us also recognize our need for him. The meaning of this Holy Week – the whole point of our celebrating it – hinges on whether we realize anew how much we need Jesus’s redemption and so enter again into his saving mysteries. “Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Truly He is the Son of God.”