The Transfer of the Relics of the Great-Martyr Ignatius the God-bearer (of Antioch)
1 John 2:7-17; Mark 14:3-9
No fasting or abstention from foods.
Read 1 John 2:7-17
Christ is born! Glorify Him!
I cannot help but note the contrast of the Gospel readings contained in the last few weeks, which largely discuss the destruction associated with the end times. Our liturgical cycle gives us these images of destruction for a couple of reasons: to bring to the front of our minds the need for repentance, for our salvation and the end times are closer now than when we first accepted the faith. We may also read these passages as an image of the internal renovation that needs to happen within us through our lenten repentance. A veritable revolution needs to happen within our hearts, the earth must quake, curtains must be ripped into to two, only to make us brand new, from the inside out.
In contrast to these necessary but violent images presented in the Gospels, we have the lyrical beauty of the 1st letter of St. John. As the lectionary feverishly tries to fit in the last bits of the apostolic epistolary, these small letters toward the end of the New Testament are almost poetic in their formulation. Hear how he speaks in refrains and simple phrases to cajole our attention (I have modified the translation to catch the urgency of the Greek):
I write you, children
for your sins are forgiven for the sake of his name.
I write you, fathers,
for you know him who is from the beginning.
I write you, men,
for you have overcome the evil one.
I write you, children,
for you know the Father.
I write you, fathers,
for you know him who is from the beginning.
I write you, men,
for you are strong,
and the word of God abides in you
and you have overcome the evil one.
John’s writing breaks from the normal prose into song. Through John’s poetry, he does not simply want to disclose information, but to invite us into an experience of God that he insists we are already having. As we stand on the precipice of Lent and begin to ask ourselves, what sin shall we struggle to let go of, we might get caught up in the language of self-sufficiency, thinking we can do it on our own. The letter of St. John sings us a different song and reminds us that we are not doing anything apart from God. For the children, our sins are forgiven, not by our own merits, but for the sake of God’s name. For the fathers, we have intimate knowledge of God the Father, which isn’t reducible to information, it’s a concrete experience for those who believe, pray, and regularly receive the sacraments. For the young men, their strength lies in the word of God that comes in through daily meditation on his words. It takes John the poet to pull back the veil on our ordinary life to see the extraordinary things that all too often we pass by unnoticed, preoccupied with our daily endeavours. We are being saved; John draws attention to this. Question is, do we have the time to listen to this news?