John – the Beloved Disciple
Reflection by Fr. John O’Grady, STD, STL, Priest, Albany Diocese, prolific author
Please read John 13:2-26; 18:15-16; 19:25-27; 20:2-10; 21:2-14
The Beloved Disciple appears with Peter in the final chapter (21:2-7, 19-24), at the Last Supper (13:2-16), at the foot of the cross (19:25-27), and in the race to the tomb (20:2-10).  In the latter, he is also called “the other disciple”; for this reason he is usually identified with “the other disciple” in chapter 18:15-16 during the passion.  The Beloved Disciple is not just another believer among many but epitomizes the believer, the disciple, the beloved, the one who gives witness.
As a believer, the Beloved Disciple contrasts with Peter at the tomb.  Neither Mary Magdalene nor Peter come to faith in the risen Lord at the tomb.  For the man who represents the believer par excellence, the empty tomb is sufficient.  He has not seen but he has believed.
In the final chapter, the Beloved Disciple proclaims to Peter, “It is the Lord” (21:7).  He recognizes him immediately.  He is the disciple.  He followed Jesus and believed in his word.  In the gospel of John, discipleship extends beyond the group known as the twelve, and so the Beloved Disciple need not be identified with one of the twelve.  He probably became a follower of the Lord only in Jerusalem, which would explain why he was known to the group surrounding the high priest (18:15-16).  He followed from the Last Supper to the courtyard of the high priest to Calvary.
This disciple is also described as the one whom Jesus loved (13:23; 19:26; 20:2; 21:7, 20) and preeminently deserves to be called a friend of Jesus (15:15).  At the Last Supper he reclined on the breast of Jesus (13:25) and shared a community of faith with Mary, the mother of the Lord (19:26-27).
Because of his relationship with Jesus, he could give witness and testimony.  His faith and love qualified the Beloved Disciple to lead others to believe and to have eternal life.  He had witnessed:
“He who saw this has borne witness and his testimony is true and he knows that he tells the truth that you also may believe” (19:35).
In the final chapter, the author makes reference to the testimony of the Beloved Disciple continuing in the church through his account of the life and death and resurrection of Jesus, the Johannine gospel.  The testimony remains.
The Beloved Disciple exemplifies all that faith in Jesus implies.  He shows the fidelity of Mary, the acceptance of Nathanael, of Peter, of Mary Magdalene.  He never doubts, never misunderstands, but always knows in whom he has placed his trust.  He then bears testimony and invites others to follow Jesus as well.
This analysis of disciples could continue.  The divine and human Jesus fulfills his mission only when people come to believe in him.  Each follower can offer some appreciation of faith, but it is the Mother of Jesus and the Beloved Disciple who best manifest the ideal believers.  These individuals personify the fundamental need for a personal commitment to the Lord.  With this faith comes the possibility of the love that alone binds individuals to Jesus and to each other.
 

The Crowd
Reflection by Suzanne Turner, Sacred Heart Parishioner, Liturgy Committee Co-Chair
 
Each year, on Palm Sunday, we stand to read the gospel along with the entire church. The priest takes the role of Pilate, the Lector takes the role of the Narrator and we, the people, are always “C” or the Crowd. Our part is to proclaim the words, “We want Barabbas, release Barabbas”. When asked by Pilate what should be done with Jesus, we shout, ‘Crucify him!”


It is always unsettling to hear the entire congregation recite this passage. My family, friends, and neighbors in the pews around me all shouting, “Crucify him”.
We imagine that Jesus’ friends, family, and neighbors were also there in the story, amongst the people, but we can’t hear them over ‘the crowd’. They were obviously frightened: frightened for Jesus but also for themselves, afraid to be associated with him at that moment in time.

Today, just like 2000 years ago, it takes tremendous bravery to go against ‘the crowd’. In our current social and political climate, there are many, many crowds… and they are all shouting. Sometimes the loudest people in the room get the most attention, but certainly not because what they have to say is more important. For the lone wolf, it’s easier to stay silent, in the background, not rock the boat or stand out. We’ve all been in that position.
 
The fear of being ghosted is very real, especially for our youth whose identities are so closely associated with their online personas. Say one thing against the crowd, and it’s as if you’ve fallen off the face of the online Earth. As the parent of a teenager, it’s easy for me to say “be brave”, “stand up for what you believe”, “don’t go along with the crowd”. Easier said then done! 
 
Jesus calls each of us to be His friend, His follower, His Apostle. It’s not always the popular or easy road. It challenges us to be tremendously courageous and brave. This Lent, I will pray to be stronger, braver and more vocal – to be a better friend, follower, apostle. Will you join me? Together, we can become a crowd.
We don’t have to be the loudest people in the room, but what we have to say is still very important.
 

Veronica
Reflection by Katherine Blain, Journalist, former editor of The Evangelist
 
Among the characters in the story of Jesus’ Passion, Veronica is probably one of the most familiar—and least understood. Most Catholics can hear the name “Veronica” and instantly recite the 6th Station of the Cross: “Veronica wipes the face of Jesus.” But, in truth, we have no idea who Veronica was. Even the name she’s given in the Bible just means “true image”—referring, of course, to the legend that an image of Jesus’ face was imprinted on the cloth she used.
 
Veronica’s gesture is the epitome of a “random act of kindness.” She spotted Jesus making His way to His own crucifixion, and she paused to wipe the dirt and sweat and blood from His face—receiving a symbol of gratitude from a soon-to-be Savior in return for her small kindness. There is a separate lesson to be learned from Veronica, in addition to the gesture itself: We also have no idea what she was thinking when she did it.
 
Jesus was staggering down the narrow Via Dolorosa, the Way of the Cross. He was dragging the crossbeam of the cross on which He would be crucified. He’d been interrogated, whipped, and imprisoned overnight. He was likely unfed—why feed a man who’s about to die? —and definitely exhausted, falling periodically and forced onward by armed guards.  There was a crowd of people around Jesus, some mocking Him and spitting on Him, but likely many others just pushing their way past to go about their daily business What made Veronica stop? Where was she headed on that terrible day? Was she a secret, faithful follower of Jesus, pacing Him on His final journey with the other unnamed “women of Jerusalem,” or a random passerby who took pity on a suffering stranger? We don’t really know.
 
Veronica could have been familiar with Jesus and His teachings, and wanted to show that she believed in Him—a risk that could have cost her, her own life. She could have been someone for whom the general idea of crucifixion, common as it was, just didn’t sit well, and her gesture was an act of protest: no one deserved to be treated so. She could have been moved to the depths of her soul by the very specific suffering of Jesus. Maybe, knowing nothing about Him, she felt something of His holiness and spontaneously reached out.
Veronica could even have been frustrated. Maybe she was just on her way to buy bread or visit a relative, and she didn’t want to see yet another parade of dirty, sweaty, blood-caked criminals jamming up the street: “For pity’s sake, have mercy on them.” So, she cleaned Jesus up as best she could—humanely and gently caressing His face. Did the jeering onlookers mock her? Did the guards shove her aside?
 
We have no idea what happened to Veronica afterward. Was she gratified by her own action? Did she rejoice, three days later, that her Savior rose? Did the news of this strange development pass in whispers, and did she then understand who she had helped? Did she then see his face in the cloth that she used?
 
A random act of kindness can be as random for the person who commits it as for the recipient. One holds a door for someone. Someone else is short a quarter at a convenience store and one hands over some extra change and moves on.
 
For 2,000 years, we have treated Veronica’s act of kindness as incredibly significant. The point isn’t that Veronica was a holy woman or aware of whose face she was wiping. The point is that an ordinary person saw something that needed doing, and she did it.
 
Don’t think too hard about acts of kindness this Lent. Just do them.
 

Mary the wife of Clopas
Reflection by Marge Stockwell – Parishioner, Sacred Heart Church
 
There is no doubt that our Lord Jesus encountered thousands of people during his public ministry: one need only read the Gospels to find evidence of that. Many, obviously, were greatly affected and so were transformed by their encounter with Jesus, going on to become part of the firm foundation of the early Church. Many more refused to accept Him as the long-awaited Messiah, choosing instead to discount Him as another false prophet, a blasphemer, and a threat to the establishment. It is interesting that a relatively small number of these thousands of people, whether transformed or not, are identified by name throughout the Gospels. It seems to me that those who are named are meant to stand out.
 
Mary the wife of Clopas is one of these few named characters. She appears in the Passion Narrative from the Gospel According to John, placed at the bitter end of the crucifixion of Jesus:
“Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala.”
So, who is “Mary the wife of Clopas”? Through a cursory internet search, I discovered that a fair amount of thought has been given to identifying this Mary, including her connection to other named characters in the Gospels, for example, wife to Clopas, and therefore perhaps the sister-in-law of St. Joseph, or the mother of James and John, or perhaps even the unidentified disciple on the Road to Emmaus.
 
Regardless of her connection to any other characters in the Gospel accounts, there is no doubt that her belief in Jesus as the promised Messiah gave her an impressive amount of courage: so much so that she would be one of perhaps only a few who would follow Him and stay with Him all the way through those terrible hours, even after so many had abandoned Him. Her courage, her conviction, and her loyalty are perhaps what are meant to give significance to her placement in the narrative.
 
It does not require a great stretch of the imagination to picture how gruesome that scene must have been – after hours of torture, beatings, and abuse, our dear Lord Jesus would have been reduced to a bloodied shell, resembling little of the assured and charismatic man who attracted the attention of thousands during His earthly ministry. It must have seemed that the whole world was against Him, save for a few brave followers. We can only imagine what this Mary was thinking as she literally stood by Jesus through it all. As much as she clearly believed Jesus was the Messiah, she still may have questioned why His glory appeared to be coming to a tragic end, and even what would happen to her and the others who became identifiable as His followers as they courageously stood by Him.
 
Yet something kept her and the others right there with Him – something that gave her and the other women the courage, the strength and the dignity to remain steadfast in their loyalty to him. No matter the length of time that Mary the wife of Clopas was a disciple of Jesus, she was graced with a faith deep enough to accompany Jesus through His suffering and death on the cross. The fact that she is named gives her a title of honor and distinction as a model of true discipleship. Shouldn’t we strive to “be named”, too? How can one achieve this?
 
Realistically, few of us will be remembered for heroic virtue of the magnitude exhibited by this Mary, but all of us have the capacity to stand by Jesus through the thick and thin in our own lives. Life has a way of throwing up obstacles and placing stumbling blocks in our way, sometimes even tragedy. It is our duty to “follow Jesus” as we navigate these unexpected challenges. We do this by remaining steadfast in prayer, turning to Him as our source of comfort and strength, and remaining loyal to Him as He guides us to our own peak of suffering and death to self. We practice this fidelity to Jesus, if not through hardship, but also in our parenting, in our workplace and among our social circles, all of which sometimes is akin to swimming against the (cultural) tide.
 
While this form of discipleship may not garner notoriety in the annals of history, it will assure us of being remembered among those who are affected by our witness to Jesus as our Savior. Thus, we too can be “named” as disciples who follow Jesus to the end, perhaps even inspiring others to do the same.  Saint Mary Clopas, pray for us!