Yesterday, Today, and Forever (10 page)

Chapter 13

The Son of Man

When later Jesus would come to the synagogue in Nazareth in order to preach there, the people would ask, “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?” (Mark 6:3). A son would only be spoken of in this way if the father were dead. Another time some relatives of Jesus wanted to bring Him home. They would never have interfered if the father of the house had been living. And when our Lord gave His mother into the care of John, His disciple, then it is definitely sure that Joseph, her husband, was dead. Through tradition we learn that Joseph died when Jesus was 18 years old. If this is really true, then Jesus and Mary must have gotten a legal guardian, usually one of the relatives, to take care of their affairs until the Son would be 20 years old.

There have always been references to the happiness of Joseph’s death because he died in the presence of Jesus and Mary. When we think that Jesus would later break out in tears and cry at His friend’s tomb — how much more would He have shown His grief when His foster father died, he who was so much nearer and dearer to Him than Lazarus. When the dying Joseph saw the tears in the eyes of his Lord and God and understood that they were shed for him — we can understand that his was a happy death.

Now it was even more quiet in the little house where a widow maintained her family. When Jesus was 20 years old, He became of age before the state. He took over officially the responsibility and care of His mother, and He was now the heir to all of Joseph’s possessions. From now on He was the Master of the house. Until then He had been “subject to them.” From now on when a question was to be decided, Mary would bring it to Jesus and He would decide.

Many mysteries are contained in these next ten years when Jesus and Mary lived so close together. Outwardly we can reconstruct to a great extent their simple and uncomplicated life, but how must it have been in their souls?

To understand even the slightest little bit about Mary, we shall have to go back to paradise when God had created men according to His image and likeness. We would have to meditate at length on what Adam and Eve were like before the Fall. How much do we know about how life was in the state of grace, when men could converse with God like children with their Father, when they used to walk with Him in the garden every day in the evening breeze?

There is a great deal to be found out by meditating on mankind before and after sin. It is exasperating how little we know of things which we could know, only because we don’t think about them. The worst part of our ignorance is that we don’t even know how ignorant we are.

It must have been a mystery to Mary that her Son, whom she knew to be the Messiah, went right on as a carpenter even when He was 25, 28, or 29 years old. But in her state of grace she knew no curiosity. She may not even have asked Him what He planned to do.

How must it have been for Him? As man on His early pilgrimages to Jerusalem He saw His Father’s house made into a den of thieves. He was just as outraged about it in His innermost soul when He was 25 or 29 as a little later when He would take a little scourge or ropes. There we learn something of His long-suffering patience in waiting for His hour to come.

A Word in Between

Usually books have only forewords or introductions. I have come to a spot in this book now where I want very badly to explain something about what is to come. First I had it in the foreword, which I shrewdly called “how it happened,” just in case there are other people like me who always skip forewords. But it didn’t really fit in that place. I couldn’t possibly say it in the text either, so please allow me to say “a word in between.”

This book really does not want to become a “life of Christ.” It only wants to serve as a stimulus to all families to reconstruct their own “life of Christ,” parents and children together, simply by telling what we did. One of the reasons why it is so wonderful to search through the life of Christ as a family is that children always ask questions and expect answers, honest answers. And if you say, “I really don’t know,” they will ask, “Couldn’t you find out?”

After having finished reading
Yesterday, Today, and Forever
, you might have one big question on your mind: “But where in the world did you find all this information, all these many details of the childhood story of our Lord, which only takes a few pages in my New Testament?”

There I must answer: aren’t we lucky — and by “we” I mean all people of our days. A generation or two ago all the precious knowledge about the circumstances of the land and times of Christ politically, socially, and spiritually, as well as the findings of archaeologists, were hidden away in great scholarly works, some of them written in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew. They were locked up in professional libraries, inaccessible to the common man. Within our own generation, however, there have appeared on the market a number of most helpful books. Scholars have dedicated a whole lifetime to compiling this information and giving it to us in readable English. There are Gospel commentaries like
Jesus Christ
by Leonce de Grandmaison;
The Gospel of Jesus Christ
by Marie Joseph LaGrange;
The Public Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ
by Archbishop Alban Goodier;
The Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ
by Maurice Meschler;
Life of Jesus
by Francois Mauriac;
The Life of Christ
by Guiseppe Ricciotti;
Jesus Christ: His Life, His Teaching, and His Work
by Ferdinand Prat;
Mary the Mother of Jesus
by Franz M. William; then the two precious books by Father Denis O’Shea,
Mary and Joseph, Their Life and Times
and
The Holy Family.
¹

Every home should also have a Bible encyclopedia in one volume with many illustrations. There you can look up anything you want to know about agriculture, flowers, herbs, trees, animals, wearing apparel, arts and crafts, business transactions, villages, towns, cities, homes, nutrition, and worship.

In the summer we conduct a camp. It is a music camp, and it lies at the foot of the hill where we live. There we conduct four “Sing Weeks” every year, each of which is ten days long. The third one is always a Liturgical Sing Week, dealing with church music and questions of the liturgy, and for this Sing Week there are usually quite a number of priests, seminarians, and sisters. A number of wonderful friendships have been formed through the camp, and these friends return to us whenever they can come, even if the camp is not open. Then they come to our house, and there in the living room is the famous bay window, famous for the most interesting and wonderful discussions we have had there with them. The remarkable thing has happened, and still does: whatever the problem under discussion may be, it will invariably lead to taking our copies of the New Testament and searching through its pages for the answer which, of this we are dead sure, it must contain.

By the way, this word, “problem,” has only slipped in here. It should really be eliminated from the vocabulary of a Christian. When we look at the first Christian era, we see there were no problems. If something came their way in the line of adversities, they treated it first as an obstacle. An obstacle we have to overcome. We have to do everything in our power to get rid of it. Only after we have tried everything and it still doesn’t move, then we know. This is not an obstacle, this is a cross. If obstacles are meant to be overcome, crosses are meant to be borne, and, if we can manage at all, borne gladly according to His example. “Problems” are a dangerous hybrid of modern times. They seem to be meant only and solely to be talked about. How often you find when you earnestly try to help somebody with his problems, you learn to your own astonishment that he doesn’t really want that. He needs problems in order to be able to talk about himself.

This is a disease of our time. Just watch little children — they never have problems. They may have obstacles to encounter, and no one is as persistent as a little child trying to overcome an obstacle! They may have, small as they are, a cross to carry, and it is very touching to watch how patiently children suffer. But in their life is no room for a problem. They are not yet busy with themselves. Then we have our Lord. He most certainly had obstacles to overcome, and He did it with flying colors. When it was the time to fight, whether it was the Pharisees or at times His own slow-witted disciples or His own tiredness, or Satan with all his pomp and all his works, He showed us how to fight obstacles. And when the time came when the Father sent Him the Cross, He most certainly showed what to do with a cross. But in His whole life there was no problem. We shall be astonished when we notice how often that word creeps into our conversation, but we should consciously fight it.

We in the family have done it now quite often, starting at the beginning and going with Him through His life as much as possible day by day, 365 days a year for those first 30 years, most of them spent in Nazareth; and then watching how He leaves His peaceful home because the Father is calling. His time is fulfilled — His hour has come. Now come the last thousand days of His life. After we have watched Him and listened to Him in the most varied situations, one thought finally sticks in our minds, when He says at the end: “For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (John 13:15). From then on only one thing matters in our life: to find out what Jesus would do, how He would react, what He would say in our stead as we go from day to day.

While sitting in the bay window, usually having a cup of coffee right after lunch or right after supper, all kinds of difficulties will come up for discussion. Very often a startled, perplexed silence will follow when we are confronted with the question: what would our Lord do in such a case? The thing to do then is for everyone to take his own copy of the New Testament and, sitting around the octagonal table with the coffee, one has to thumb through the pages and look for something which fits the situation. Isn’t it glorious and almost incredible that we have never looked in vain?

This frequent thumbing through the Gospels — besides bringing the answers to our questions — has another wonderful effect, and a twofold one. Not only do we really find our way around the Gospels very soon and know that this comes only in Luke, whereas that only John talks about, and something else can only be found in Matthew or Mark; but we also learn to know Him better and better. Now it is not so much His times and their customs that we are getting to know; now it is His own character. More and more we are overwhelmed by what we find. It is heartwarming.

A stop for a concert in San Francisco, 1946

Chapter 14

The Other Cheek

It was pouring outside. the Worcestor Range beyond Stowe Hollow couldn’t even be seen, it was so foggy. Such weather invites one to prolong one of those coffee sessions. In the bay window were four priests, a few seminarians, and some of us. Maria was “boring.” This is a family joke which goes back to our first year in America. After a concert we were invited to a reception in somebody’s house, and obviously as a special lure to us, it was said that Mrs. So-and-So was pouring. Our Martina, very young then and always known for her rather careless diction, said to our aghast hostess, “What does it mean that Mrs. So-and-So is boring?”

It traveled fast from lady to lady and was the joke of the evening because it so happened, the hostess told us under her breath, that Mrs. So-and-So
was
boring!

That has stuck with us ever since, and whenever the coffee pot is brought in, somebody raises the question, “And who is boring today?”

“I have such difficulties with ‘the other cheek,’” began Father O’Shaughnessy. “I just can’t understand it. It doesn’t seem right to me. It doesn’t seem manly. If someone strikes me on the right cheek, does it mean that I should really and truly turn the other one also? Or if someone steals my coat, that I should run after him and offer him my suit also? I just don’t get it.”

“Doesn’t that serve as an introduction to ‘But I say to you, love your enemies’?” asked Father Di Silva.

“Let’s get our New Testaments,” I suggested. That was a nice little break. Everyone had to get up to get his copy, and meanwhile we could do a little thinking. Sure, there we found it:

You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also; and if any one would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well; and if any one forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you.

You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you salute only your brethren, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect (Matt. 5:38–48).

“Before we get into any arguments, let’s look now at what our Lord himself did with these words in His own life,” began our Father Wasner. “Let’s turn the pages and stop wherever we find something under the heading: our Lord and His enemies.”

We started reading, and whoever found something, read it aloud. One of us had paper and pencil to write down the place and something like a resume of the quotation. In about two hours we had gone through the four Gospels and had found about 90 places where our Lord was either dealing with His enemies or discussing the subject with His disciples. Now we took those different passages, read them, tried to compare them, and all of a sudden something occurred to us. Whenever our Lord met enemies who were His very own personal enemies, He always reacted with meekness and humility, and with so much patience.

For instance, the first enemy in His life was Herod, who wanted to destroy Him. Meekly and humbly He fled from him. We always have to keep in mind that His was not the case of the ordinary refugee who hasn’t much choice but to flee. At any moment our Lord would have defended himself, as He said so unmistakably to His disciples in Gethsemane: “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matt 26:53.) If we keep this always in our mind — what He could have done to His enemies — only then are we duly impressed in watching what He actually did. Any number of times the scribes or Pharisees wanted to catch Him with a tricky question. He knew that. For the longest time, instead of giving way to His righteous indignation, He would tolerate them, answering their questions quietly but with divine thoroughness as if pleading with them, “Don’t you see how wrong you are?”

After a few years of this method, the disciples seem to have had enough of it, seeing that the adversaries were only getting fresher and didn’t seem to be converted through His patience. They wanted to show the Pharisees their place by force. Take the time when He wanted to enter a Samaritan town and the Samaritans did not allow Him. When James and John the Apostles saw this, they were outraged. “Lord,” they cried, “wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them, even as Elias did?” But no, that was not what He wanted. “Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them” (Luke 9:54-56; KJV).

We see Him go fearlessly through His last days, uncompromising with His enemies, but always with an outstretched hand. He could not have shown this in a more touching way than when the traitor finally caught Him in the garden and Jesus said imploringly, “Friend, why are you here?” (Matt. 26:50) Just a few short hours ago He had warned this man. This is now the fullness of “turning the other cheek” when He says to Judas, “Friend.” On the Cross He will sum up His whole attitude toward His personal enemies, His willingness to forgive and forget: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). “If any one would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well” (Matt. 5:40), He had said before. Now on the Cross they have not only taken His coat, they have taken all, so they think, even His life. And after His death He will give still a little more than they have taken. A lance will open His Heart, and the last drop of His blood He will give. In such greatness do we see Him live His own words.

But then there is another element in meeting if they are not His own private, personal antagonists, if they happen to be enemies of the Father, doing wrong toward Him who has sent our Lord. Then we see Him very differently. “And making a whip of cords, he drove them all ... out of the temple. ... Take these things away; you shall not make my Father’s house a house of trade” (John 2:15–16). He shouts at them. When the Pharisees and scribes have had sufficient time, when He has pleaded long enough with them, showing them by miracles that He really is “the One,” and when there is no more doubt that they simply don’t want to believe, then they turn from being His private enemies into being the enemies of God. They have rejected His divine grace, and they are responsible that others might miss it, too. There we see our Lord in anger and wrath. One can almost see His lips tremble and hear His voice shout when He addressed them: “You blind guides, straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel! ... Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within they are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. ... You serpents, you brood of vipers, how are you to escape being sentenced to hell?” (Matt. 23:24–33).

“That brings home a point to me,” said Father Jackson, a wonderful elderly priest, “and it gets stronger by the minute as I look at these verses. Don’t we usually react in just the opposite way to our Lord’s way? When anyone shows up as His personal enemy, He is meek and humble and practically takes the person on His lap; but when it comes to the honor of God, then He speaks His mind fearlessly, and never mind what might happen to Him afterward. And we? How often does it happen that in our company things are said which are definitely against God or His Church or His commandments, and if we can manage at all, we turn a deaf ear so as not to get into an embarrassing situation; but woe if anyone steps on our own toes! Then we are up in arms. Am I right?”

At this moment the bell rang. What could that mean? I was stupefied myself, because the bell usually rings only for meals. But — looking at my watch, I saw it right there and then. It has happened before that while we were engaged in such conversations, the hours have passed like minutes.

As the dinner bell had interrupted us in the middle of a sentence, the conversation went right on during supper. And when we sat once more around the coffee in the bay window afterward, Father O’Shaughnessy asked the momentous question, “But just how does one do it? I do understand now what ‘turning the other cheek’ really means, but in practical everyday life — how do I love my enemy?”

Between three of us — each one sounded as if he would know what he was talking about — we tried to answer this question.

You may very well have lived a long life, saying the Lord’s Prayer daily, and when you came to the words “and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” your soul was completely quiet and unruffled. Then one day something happens. It may all be your own fault. You may have a bad argument and the other one walks out on you, bitter and full of wrath. Before you can think twice, you have an enemy. At first, you don’t want to believe it. You say to yourself, he’ll come around, just wait a little. But this happens to be one of those unfortunate cases where he does not come around. After awhile you may say that it is perfectly ridiculous, and you may earnestly try to meet him, and in a casual way get things straightened out. But then you find out that he’s fed up with you and he has no intention whatsoever of having things as they were. Soon you will hear how he spoke about you on this or that occasion, and from those remarks you know now that you have an enemy.

Soon after this startling discovery, these words emerge from the depths of your memory and they take on a completely new meaning: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:43–44).

And now, a new period in your life begins. You try, you really try, to love your enemy — but how? There have been a number of different loves in your life and these you try to apply now to him. How you loved your parents when you were very young yourself — how you loved your best friend in school — how you loved in those unique weeks before your wedding — how you now love your own children. Then there is in your heart love for your country, for your hometown, for your old school, and your neighborhood. It is perfectly amazing how many shades of love move a human heart during one short life. But, as hard as you may try, not one of them fits your purpose. Now, you almost get worried because there is that command: “But I say to you ...” and you haven’t yet found a way to fulfill it. This much you have learned, however, that the love for your enemy is a completely new love in your life and you have to discover it step by step.

All you are doing now is wanting to love your enemy. As you want to love him, you are getting very much concerned about him, and this is the first step. You realize that he really shouldn’t be your enemy — nobody really should stubbornly resist reconciliation — and with an anxious heart you realize that it cannot do him much good.

As the natural outcome of this, your concern, you find yourself talking with God about your enemy. This is the second step. You say: “Dear Lord, please don’t take this too seriously; I really don’t think he means it quite the way it sounds. Don’t forget how much I antagonized him, and please, dear Lord, I want you to know there is not bitterness in my heart against him whatever he might say or do.” There’s a great urge in your heart to make sure about this because you realize that if you get angry and bitter and have your own spiritual life badly influenced by all this, it would be partly his fault and he would be held responsible.

As time goes on, you discover that there is a change taking place in yourself. Since that person of whom you thought so highly, who was so close to you and to whom you were so much attached has turned against you, you find that you get more and more detached from other people, because you are aware that what happened once could happen any day again. And there you find that your enemy has done you a great service, and most eagerly you point that out in your next talks with God. This is the third step. However, even if it has helped you, it should not continue. You would not want to die or want him to die, still your enemy. Now you begin to storm heaven. “The return of the brother” becomes your foremost intention. You ask all your friends to help you pray for a “certain intention.” And whatever comes your way in the line of suffering is greeted with a smile, be it physical pain or mental anguish, because it can be used to be offered up for the most important person in your life, your enemy. This is the last step.

Now you have found the love for your enemy. It is completely different from all other loves, and it is very anxious and very unemotional. It resides mostly in your will, but let us hope that in the eyes of God it is a soaring fire which, in His own good time, will melt all the ice or resistance. And our Lord’s wish will be fulfilled: “That they may be one ... that they may become perfectly one” (John 17:22–23).