Fifth Sunday of Easter – Year C

WHOEVER IS IN CHRIST IS A NEW CREATURE

The Church’s days are numbered—some say—because it is old, it does not know how to renew itself, it repeats old formulas instead of answering new questions, it stubbornly proposes obsolete rites and incomprehensible dogmas while today’s man is looking for a new balance, a new sense of life, a less distant God.

The desire for spirituality is growing, and the adherence to new faiths called reiki, channeling, crystal therapy, dianetics is spreading. The do-it-yourself religion that disdains dogmas and churches is spreading, a religion in which oriental techniques are often blended with esoteric interpretations of Christ; in which meditation on the word of God in a monastery is equated with the emotion experienced in the depths of a forest in conversation with one’s angel-guide.

An expression of this search for the new is the New Age, which envisions a utopian vision of an era of peace, harmony and progress. To confuse fidelity to Tradition (with a capital letter) with a retreat into what is old and outdated, with closure to the impulses of the Spirit who ‘renews the face of the earth’ is one of the fatal misunderstandings into which the Church can fall. However, the accusations of lack of modernity made (often unfair and unmotivated) should make her reflect.

The Church is the depository of the announcement of ‘new heavens and a new earth,’ of the proposal of the ‘new man,’ of the ‘new commandment,’ of a ‘new song.’ It is to her that anyone who dreams of a new world should instinctively turn.

 

• To internalize the message, we will repeat:

“I will sing the Lord a new song, for he renews my youth every day.”

 

First Reading: Acts 14:21-27

After Paul and Barnabas had proclaimed the good news to that city and made a considerable number of disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch. They strengthened the spirits of the disciples and exhorted them to persevere in the faith, saying, “It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.” They appointed elders for them in each church and, with prayer and fasting, commended them to the Lord in whom they had put their faith. Then they traveled through Pisidia and reached Pamphylia. After proclaiming the word at Perga they went down to Attalia. From there they sailed to Antioch, where they had been commended to the grace of God for the work they had now accomplished. And when they arrived, they called the church together and reported what God had done with them and how he had opened the door of faith to the Gentiles. —The Word of the Lord.

 

A certain ‘religious individualism that preaches only the salvation of one’s own soul disappeared in many places but still survives in some. Indeed, the baptized are not uninterested in the souls of others; they pray for all to go to heaven. However, it is still rooted in the idea that, at the time of reckoning, all friendships will be blown, and everyone will have to deal with God alone. This conception leads to the exasperation of the religion of merits: each one brings with them their good works, and there should be no illusion that, in the end, there can be transactions.

If this is the case, we ask ourselves what the point of the community is if, at the decisive moment, each person must fend for himself. The disciples of Jesus constitute a single body, and the individual members cannot live without each other. They are a people, a family in which each one is, in some way, responsible for what the others do.

The reading deepens this theme of community life. Paul and Barnabas are about to conclude their first missionary journey. They have traveled through many regions, proclaimed the Good News in many cities, and before returning to the community of Antioch from which they were sent and to which they must give an account of their work, they decide to revisit the young communities they have founded. They wanted them to be strengthened in the faith and helped to organize themselves, so they established a group of elders in each of them.

One cannot conceive of an egoistic Christian life, not relating to others, thinking only of oneself and one’s spiritual progress. They can be a good and pious religious person, but not Christian. That is why, from the beginning, the apostles feel the need to establish everywhere ‘centers of fraternity’ led by ‘elders.’

Missionary work is not concluded at the moment when people embrace the faith and are baptized. Believers must become a ‘community’ in which each one feels a living, active, co-responsible member.

 

Second Reading: Revelation 21:1-5a

Then I, John, saw a new heaven and a new earth. The former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. I also saw the holy city, a new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away.”

The One who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” —The Word of the Lord.

 

In the Bible, the word ‘new’ is often used—as many as 347 times in the Old Testament and 44 in the New Testament—and this adjective means a radical change concerning what existed before. God’s new work is something unexpected, unimaginable, surprising. When, for example, he promises a ‘new law’ (Jer 31:31-34), he is not referring to a new set of prescriptions, to an ‘updating’ of the Decalogue, but the gift of a radically different law, to the inner dynamism that leads to doing good, to the law set in the heart, not written on stone.

In the Old Testament, many new realities are announced that the Lord will bring about: a new covenant, a new spirit, a new heart, and a new creation: “For behold, I now create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind again. Be glad forever and rejoice in what I create; for I create Jerusalem to be a joy and its people to be a delight” (Is 65:17-18).

The first creation was good. It was ‘very good’ all that God had made (Gen 1:31), but man, in his freedom, introduced sin, used creatures for evil, and led them to corruption. The consequences of his senseless choices are also before our eyes: wars, violence, oppression, injustice… Is God’s project therefore irretrievably failed? Has the Lord of the universe lost control of his creation?

No—answers the seer of the Apocalypse. God controls the world’s destiny; no event surprises him; he makes all things new (v. 5). He is not destroying the first creation but is preparing ‘a new heaven and a new earth.’ Only the sea—the symbol of all that is against life (Rev 13:1)—will be made to disappear forever; it will evaporate to the last drop (v. 1).

The vision continues: “I also saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from heaven, from God, ready as a bride adorned for her husband” (v. 2). On no day of her life does the woman appear as charming as on her wedding day. She is young; on her face there is no blemish or wrinkle; everyone admires her. The reality of the world we have before our eyes is precisely the opposite, and the forecasts are gloomy; nothing foreshadows such a surprising transformation. It is like observing a caterpillar: one is not inclined to think it will rise to a butterfly.

The conclusion of the history of the world is dreamlike: God will dwell with people forever “and wipe away every tear from their eyes; there will be no more death, nor mourning, nor crying, nor pain, for the former things have passed away” (vv. 3-4). This is the message of joy and hope that John addresses to the Christians of his communities, who are tempted to let themselves be defeated in the face of the apparent and unstoppable triumph of evil. In the end, they will discover—says the seer—that God has always led the game.

 

Gospel: Jn 13:31-33a.34-35

When Judas had left them, Jesus said, “Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him. If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself, and God will glorify him at once. My children, I will be with you only a little while longer. I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” —The Gospel of the Lord.

 

For us, heirs of Greek thought, glorification is the attainment of people’s approval and praise; it is equivalent to fame, obtained by those who reach a prestigious position. Everyone desires it, yearns for it, struggles for it, and this is why they distance themselves from God. The Jews who “take glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from God” (Jn 5:44), who “preferred the favorable opinion of people, rather than God’s approval” (Jn 12:43) cannot believe in Jesus in whom is not manifested the ‘glory’ that attracts people’s eyes and the attention. In him, from his first appearance in the world, the glory of God is made visible: “The Word became flesh and pitched his tent among us, and we saw his glory” (Jn 1:14).

God is glorified when he unfolds his power and performs deeds of salvation when he shows his love for people. In the Old Testament, his glory was manifested when he freed his people from slavery. “The Israelites will see his glory,” the prophet promises, “for he is about to come and save them” (Is 35:2,4).

In the first verses of today’s Gospel (vv. 31-32), the verb ‘glorify’ appears five times: “The Son of Man is glorified and God is glorified in him”; “if God is glorified in him, in turn, he will glorify him and will glorify him at once.” A redundancy, a verbosity that almost bores; a solemnity that seems excessive and out of place in the context in which Jesus pronounces these words. We are in the cenacle and only a few hours away from his capture and his condemnation to death.

Those who do not know in advance how events unfolded are led to think that God is about to astound everyone with a miracle, that he is about to give a demonstration of his strength by humiliating his enemies. None of this. Jesus is glorified because Judas has gone out to agree with the high priests on arresting the Master (v. 31). Something unprecedented, scandalous, and incomprehensible to people happens; in Jesus, who goes towards his passion and death, who hands himself over to the executioners and is nailed to the cross, the ‘glory’ of God is manifested.

A few days earlier, Jesus made it clear in what his glory consists of: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified… If the grain of wheat that falls into the earth does not die, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (Jn 12:23-24). The glory that awaits him is the moment in which, by giving his life, he will reveal to the world how great is God’s love for people. This is the only glory that he also promises to his disciples.

The passage continues with the presentation of the new commandment, introduced by a surprising expression: ‘Children…’ (v. 33). The disciples are not children but brothers of Jesus. Why does he call them in this way? To understand the meaning of his words, one must keep in mind the moment in which they are pronounced. During the Last Supper, Jesus has realized that he had only a few hours left to live and felt he must dictate his will. Just as children consider sacred the words pronounced by their father on his deathbed, Jesus wants his disciples to imprint in their minds and hearts what he is about to say.

Here is his testament: “I give you a new commandment: love one another as I have loved you!” (v. 34). To underline its importance, he will repeat it twice more before walking towards Gethsemane: “This is my commandment: love one another as I have loved you” (Jn 15:12); “This I command you: love one another” (Jn 15:17).

He speaks as one who wants to leave something as an inheritance: ‘I give you’—he says (v. 34). If we had been able to choose one gift among the many that he possessed, we would all—I think—have asked for the power to perform miracles. Instead, he offered us a new commandment. For us, commandment means an imposition, a heavy commitment to fulfill, a burden to bear. Some people believe that happiness is achieved by clever people, by those who enjoy life by transgressing the ‘ten words’ of God. For this reason, many are convinced that those who manage to keep the Ten Commandments deserve paradise, while those who are unfaithful must be severely punished.

This is still a widespread perspective and needs to be corrected urgently because it is highly pernicious. It is the result of a defaced image of God. A banal example: if a doctor insists that his patient stop smoking, he does so not to limit his freedom, to deprive him of pleasure, to put him to the test but because he wants what is good for him. Secretly, trying not to be noticed, he can continue to smoke and, after a certain time, find himself with ruined lungs. The doctor does not punish him for this (he has not harmed him, but he harmed himself); he will always and, in any case, try to recover him. And God—let it be said in passing—is a good doctor; he heals all diseases (Ps 103:3).

In giving us his commandment, Jesus has shown himself to be an incomparable friend: he has shown us, not with words, but with the gift of his life, how to realize one’s existence in this world entirely.

It is a new commandment. In what sense? Is it not already written in the Old Testament: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev 19:18)? Let us see where the novelty lies. Compared to what is recommended in the Old Testament, the second part is certainly new: “as I have loved you, so you must also love one another”(v. 34). The measure of love proposed to us by Jesus is not the one we use towards ourselves, but the one he had for us.

We do not necessarily love ourselves: we cannot stand our limits, our faults, our miseries; if we make a mistake, if we make a wrong impression, if we do something we should be ashamed of, we even go so far as to punish ourselves. Then the commandment is new because it is not spontaneous for a person to love those who do not deserve it or those who cannot reciprocate; it is not normal to do good even to one’s enemies.

Jesus reveals a new love: he loved those who needed his love to be happy. He loved the poor, the sick, the marginalized, the wicked, the corrupt, his executioners because only by loving them could he bring them out of their condition of narrowness, misery and sin.

It is the gratuitous and unmotivated love of which God gave proof in the Old Testament when he chose his people: “The Lord—says Moses to the Israelites—has bound himself to you and has chosen you, not because you are the most numerous among all the peoples (on the contrary you are the least) … but because of his love for you” (Dt 7:7-8). This is why John says, “I am not writing you a new commandment, but reminding you of an old one … if you love your brother you remain in the light” (1 Jn 2:7-10).

But the greatest novelty of this commandment is another. It is the fact that no one before Jesus ever attempted to build a society based on love like his. The Christian community is thus placed as an alternative, as a new proposal to all the old societies of the world, to those based on competition, meritocracy, money and power. It is this love that must ‘glorify’ Christ’s disciples. Through the mouth of Jeremiah, God announced:“Behold, the days will come when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel” (Jer 31:31). The old covenant was made based on the Ten Commandments. The new covenant is linked to the observance of a single, new commandment: love of one’s brother, such as Jesus was capable of.

Jesus concludes his ‘testament’ by stating: “By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (v. 35). We know that it is not the fruit that makes the tree live, but it signs that the tree is alive. It is not the good works that make our communities Christian, but these works give proof that our communities are animated by the Spirit of the Risen Lord.

Christians are not different from others; they do not wear badges, they do not live outside the world; what characterizes them is the logic of gratuitous love, that of Jesus, that of the Father.