Thursday, April 06, 2006
From AscensionNYC
Thursday in the Fifth Week of Lent
Psalm 140, 142
Exodus 7:25 - 8:19
2 Corinthians 3:7-18
Mark 10:17-31
The "rich young ruler," as we used to call him, fails at first to engage Jesus' whole attention. In fact, Jesus brushes him off, quibbling about who should be called good and reciting the Commandments as a standard recipe for salvation. But then something, perhaps the young man's sincerity, catches him, and he really sees the youth for the first time in their exchange. "Looking at him" leads directly to loving him, so that he honors him with a version of his own "new commandment." "Go, sell what you have and give the money to the poor" could easily be construed as "go and love others as I have loved you." This instruction to the young man makes one thing very clear: that to love as Jesus loves involves sacrifice, a giving up of what we treasure out of compassion for the other. But as this encounter also demonstrates, we do not love in that dangerous way until we see the other, as Jesus saw and so loved the youth, who he must have known would fail the hard test he had set him.
When we allow ourselves truly to see another, we put ourselves at risk. I could only defend myself when accosted by swarms of beggars in Varanasi, India, by not meeting their eyes. When I did I was immediately drawn into an abyss of compassion and suffering.
Simone Weil helps me to understand this: "To desire the existence of the other is to transport oneself into them by sympathy and as a result to have a share in the inert matter that is theirs." This clearly refers to the Incarnation undergone by Christ, but points also to the incarnations required of us if we are to attempt to love as God loves. We must be prepared for sacrifices when we truly will the good of the other, when we open ourselves to look at them and care enough to experience their state of being. The young man was not yet ready to open himself in this way. I ask myself how often I avoid the "eye contact" that leads to such love and sacrifice -- and to Love.
Exodus 7:25 - 8:19
2 Corinthians 3:7-18
Mark 10:17-31
"Jesus, looking at him, loved him."
The "rich young ruler," as we used to call him, fails at first to engage Jesus' whole attention. In fact, Jesus brushes him off, quibbling about who should be called good and reciting the Commandments as a standard recipe for salvation. But then something, perhaps the young man's sincerity, catches him, and he really sees the youth for the first time in their exchange. "Looking at him" leads directly to loving him, so that he honors him with a version of his own "new commandment." "Go, sell what you have and give the money to the poor" could easily be construed as "go and love others as I have loved you." This instruction to the young man makes one thing very clear: that to love as Jesus loves involves sacrifice, a giving up of what we treasure out of compassion for the other. But as this encounter also demonstrates, we do not love in that dangerous way until we see the other, as Jesus saw and so loved the youth, who he must have known would fail the hard test he had set him.
When we allow ourselves truly to see another, we put ourselves at risk. I could only defend myself when accosted by swarms of beggars in Varanasi, India, by not meeting their eyes. When I did I was immediately drawn into an abyss of compassion and suffering.
Simone Weil helps me to understand this: "To desire the existence of the other is to transport oneself into them by sympathy and as a result to have a share in the inert matter that is theirs." This clearly refers to the Incarnation undergone by Christ, but points also to the incarnations required of us if we are to attempt to love as God loves. We must be prepared for sacrifices when we truly will the good of the other, when we open ourselves to look at them and care enough to experience their state of being. The young man was not yet ready to open himself in this way. I ask myself how often I avoid the "eye contact" that leads to such love and sacrifice -- and to Love.
Linda Julian
