ALL SAINTS MARGARET STREET

Sermon preached by the Fr. Gerald Beauchamp at High Mass on the Sixth Sunday of Easter, 27th April 2008

Readings: Acts 17. 22-31; 1 Peter 3. 13-end; John 14. 15-21

Jesus said 'I will not leave you desolate; I will come to you.' (John 14. 18)

We're almost at the end of the Easter season and I'm puzzled. I'm puzzled about Our Lord's resurrection appearances; or, more precisely one particular non-appearance. In the gospels the risen Christ appeared to Peter and Mary Magdalene and a group on the Road to Emmaus and so on but there's someone to whom he surely ought to have appeared. And had he done so we would have heard about it. But there isn't one. I'm talking about his mother. There's no record of Jesus appearing to Mary.

And that's surely very odd. Given the honour that Christians give Mary and given that she's present at other important moments - Christmas (obviously!), Good Friday (she's there at the foot of the cross) and Pentecost (the Acts of the Apostles mentions her especially) - why is there no resurrection appearance of Christ to Mary?

Well, I don't know. I don't have an intellectual answer. But in prayer I've imagined something. Prayerful imagination is a useful tool. In the Stations of the Cross the fourth station invites us to contemplate Jesus meeting Mary on the way to Calvary. The gospels don't say that it happened but those of us who have prayed the Stations of the Cross find it a poignant moment.

So let's imagine.

Mary was devastated by her son's suffering. But she'd always known that 'a sword would pierce her own heart also' (Luke 2. 35). As the events the passion unfolded she sensed a further call. She's not mentioned as going to the tomb where Christ was laid so I imagine her setting off on a journey from Jerusalem as soon as Christ had died. She lays aside sitting shiva (that's the seven days of ritual mourning observed by Jews). There's someone that she knows she must see: someone that only she can visit; someone that she is to console. Mary goes to visit the mother of Judas.

Bad news always travels fast. The town to which Mary is heading is called Sychar which may be the origin of the name 'Iscariot'. It was in Samaria, forty miles north of Jerusalem near the modern-day town of Nablus on the West Bank. After Judas had killed himself a runner took the news to his hometown.

We can imagine his mother's reaction. I see her as a widow: Judas, her only child. She goes into shock when she is told of her son's death. Her neighbours turn their backs on her. They'd never liked Judas. He was a troublemaker; stirring up ill-feeling with the Romans; always going on about messiahs. And now, he'd done not just one but two terrible things. He'd betrayed a fellow Jew and he'd thrown God's gift of life back in his face. He'd brought a curse on the whole town.

Mary arrives mid-morning. The market is in full swing. She makes discreet enquiries about the house of Judas' mother and people are curious. Mary's a stranger. Who is she? Where's she from? Why's she come? The gossips put two and two together. As Mary walks towards the house all eyes are on her. The mother of Jesus has surely come for revenge. Menacingly, a mob begins to form.

The mother of Judas lies huddled on her bed. She's been there almost all the time since she heard the news. There's a knock on the door. She ignores it. It comes again. Again, she ignores it. She hopes that whoever it is will just go away. There's a third knock and then the latch is lifted and the door opens. A shaft of sunlight pierces the gloom.

The mother of Judas looks up. She sees a woman standing in the light. Who ...? And then she recognizes her. It's her worst nightmare. First she's been disgraced by her son now she's going to be humiliated by Jesus' mother. She shrinks back into the shadows but the voice that she hears is not harsh or reproachful; it's warm and gentle. 'May I come in and sit with you?' The mother of Judas points towards a stool. There's a long silence. Then Mary says: 'I want you to know that I love you. I have come to reassure you. The death of our sons unites us.'

The mother of Judas can't quite believe what she's hearing. Her eyes narrow and she peers at Mary's face. But she sees nothing there that says 'vengeance'. Something like a great stone rolls back from her heart. The tears come: great hot tears. Mary moves to the bed and rocks the mother of Judas in her arms as she grieves. She sobs for a long time but slowly she relaxes and finally, exhausted, she sleeps.

Mary tiptoes out of the room and goes to market. She buys oil and flour and wine. She goes to the well and draws water. She finds some kindling. Back in the house she lights a fire. She makes bread and the smell fills the house. The mother of Judas awakes. Mary encourages her to wash and then to eat. She places before her bread and wine.

As the mother of Judas eats Mary massages her feet with oil. They talk about their sons. The mother of Judas recalls her strong-willed boy. She tells of how he came to hate the Romans when legions and raided the town after a local uprising. No one there had been involved. It was all so unjust.

When his father had died Judas needed someone to look up to. He followed one teacher then another. Then he found Jesus (or perhaps Jesus found him). She knew that Judas found Jesus difficult was but that it should come to this... she was at a loss; but Mary coming to her, well, that gave her hope. Life could begin again. Without Judas she would have to support herself: earn money by weaving. So after she has eaten Mary helps her set up her loom.

Mary takes her leave. They embrace. Mary opens the door. A crowd has gathered. Her neighbours are curious. There's been no fight and Mary's been seen shopping! As they look behind her they see the mother of Judas working. 'She is your sister', Mary says, 'care for her as the Law demands: we are to care for the widow and the orphan in their affliction'. The crowd is amazed and stands back. Mary walks passed them and she sets off back to Jerusalem. Behind her she hears the crowd buzzing excitedly and one voice saying 'I'll buy; I'll buy your cloth'.

God is love. Jesus is the deepest expression of that love. In today's gospel he says 'He who has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me; and he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.' The revelation of love is always specific. Jesus was a Jew born at a particular time and place. Our loving is always towards a particular person or group or situation. There's nothing abstract about love and it's when we grapple with questions like 'Who?' and 'Where?' and 'How?' that we discover vocation.

Cardinal Newman began a meditation with the words: 'God has created me to do some definite service; he has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another. I have my mission ...'

Only Mary could have visited the mother of Judas. Peter or Mary Magdalene would not have done. Only Mary could give life to the mother of the man who had betrayed her son and shown not merely forgiveness but genuine and practical love: the sort of love that gives hope; the sort of love that bestows life; the sort of love that says no one is abandoned.

Jesus said 'I will not leave you desolate; I will come to you.' Who is love calling us to? To whom should we go? When we pray imaginatively in Christ and with Mary, we will have answers. Amen.