Shocked by Simplicity

Learning to believe in an odd God

4/19/2022

Jn 20:11-18 Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping. And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been. And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher. Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and then reported what he had told her.

I say this with great reverence, but we Christians believe in an odd God. I love that old adage: “How odd of God to choose the Jews.” That is, God chose the most unlikely people to be his Chosen People through whom he would work to save the world. If you and I were God (thank God we’re not), we might have chosen the powerful Persians led by Darius, or the Greeks under Alexander the Great, or at least the Romans who conquered the known world with the mighty Caesars.

But God threw his lot in with the Jews, a small backwater bunch of 12 tribes who were killing each other when they were not trying to kill their enemies. In other words, God tends to “zig” when we would rather “zag”. Isaiah 55:9 speaks for God saying: “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” That is what I mean when I say we believe in an odd God.

In the gospel today we continue to see this oddity of divinity even in the Resurrection appearances of Jesus. Today Jesus appears to Mary Magdalen weeping at the tomb. But our Lord does not appear in glory and majesty, seated on the clouds and surrounded by armies of angels. Do you remember what he looked like? Mary thought he was an ordinary gardener.

Then, in Luke 24, Jesus walks and talks with two disciples on the road to Emmaus and they think he is a visitor to Jerusalem. They don’t recognize him until they break bread – New Testament code language for the Eucharist – with Jesus. In John 21 Jesus appears to Peter, John and 5 other apostles while they are fishing, and again it takes time for their eyes to focus with faith and recognize who he is.

Now, think about this. If you were Jesus and had just risen from the dead, defeated Satan, and were ready and rearing to establish your kingdom, what would you do first? I know what I would do. I would appear to the Jewish Sanhedrin, especially Annas and Caiaphas, and say: “Boy, did you guys really blow it! How odd of God to choose the Jews, indeed!” Or, maybe I would head to the Praetorium for a word with Pilate, and say: “Next time, listen to your wife! This is what happens when you don’t take her seriously!”

Or, maybe even head to Rome and flex my divine muscles and make Caesar and the Roman Legions shake in their sandals. But Jesus, the Son of God, does not do any of those things that you and I might do. Instead, Jesus “zigs” when we would “zag”. His ways and his thoughts are as high above our ways and our thoughts as the heavens are above the earth.

My friends, I am convinced that we need to take stock of what an odd God we have. Why? Because if we don’t learn how he likes to work in our life, we are liable to miss him. What do I mean? Archbishop Fulton Sheen once said that God always works through the minority, not the majority. When the 12 Jewish spies had returned from reconnoitering the Promised Land, ten said they should not invade, but two – Caleb and Joshua – said they should.

So, too, more recently, Pope St. Paul VI established a committee of 12 cardinals in 1968 to decide whether the Church should permit the use of contraception. Ten cardinals said we should, but two said we should not, one of whom was an obscure cardinal from Krakow, Karol Wojtyla. He would later become Pope St. John Pau II. There’s just no denying it: God is odd.

I am struck by this oddity of divinity every time I celebrate the sacraments. When I pour a little water over a baby’s head, he or she is transformed into a child of God. I whisper a few words over bread and wine and those humble elements become the second Person of the Holy Trinity. Two people look at each other with love and say the words, “I do” and suddenly become an icon of the love of Christ for his Church. Last night I anointed a man in hospice with a little oil on the forehead and he received the grace of God.

The simplicity of the sacraments always shocks me because I always want to see some “shock and awe" when we are dealing with almighty God. But we don’t. Why not? Because we have an odd God. God “zigs” when we “zag.” And if we don’t learn to zig with him, we might miss him.

Praised be Jesus Christ!