Discipleship. I found myself thinking about this aspect of my life as some of our young people have been preparing for their confirmation day. Indeed, these have been two beautiful weeks in our parish, during which we’ve celebrated the first Holy Communion last week and Confirmations this week. Special moments for the young people involved. But they are also opportunities for all of us to reflect on things that we usually tend to take for granted. How often do I participate in the Eucharist without thinking of what I’m doing? Or, seriously, how often do I stop and think what does it really mean in my life to be a Christian? What difference does it make?

On the day of their confirmation our young people confirm their resolve to follow Christ. Now they are no more Christians simply because their parents decided to baptize them when they were babies. The decision is theirs, and they are now becoming adults in their faith journey.

I think of all this a I hear the words of Jesus in today’s gospel: “Follow me”. It’s his calling … it’s my response. That’s what discipleship is all about. Sometimes we might think that it’s been our choice, our decision. If that were the case, we would be able to do it on our own terms. But, since it is his calling, his initiative, we must let him decide how we’re going to do it.

“Follow me”. The Christian, the disciple of Christ, is one who follows. I remember the beautiful episode when, in the gospel, Peter tried to lead Jesus, rather than follow him. It was when Jesus was telling his disciples that he was heading towards Jerusalem to meet his fate: passion, death and resurrection. Of course, Peter did not like the idea of suffering and death. Who does? So, he rebuked Jesus telling him that such should never happen. In this instant Jesus, who had just chosen Peter as the “rock” on which to build his Church, had a very harsh reaction. “Get behind me, Satan”, he told Peter. Peter had to understand that the place of the disciple is to be behind Jesus, not in front of him. To follow, not to lead. Otherwise, he would not be any better than “Satan”, the rebellious one who became God’s adversary.

In today’s gospel, we have a couple of instances when Jesus tries to help understand his followers this basic fact about discipleship. When Jesus was not made welcome by the Samaritans, James and John suggested that that city should be destroyed by fire coming down from heaven. Of course, this was not the way of the Master, and they had to learn that being a disciple means walking on the Master’s footsteps. Jesus is for mercy, love, forgiveness and compassion, not violent vengeance.

Later on, someone told Jesus that he wanted to follow him. For some reason, Jesus discouraged him. Perhaps he wanted him to understand that it was Jesus who decides what he should be doing, not vice-versa.
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Yes, the disciple is one who follows the Master, which means that he has to be attentive to see where the Master is leading him. Sometimes, following Jesus might give you some surprises. Joseph DePiro was one who had accepted to follow Jesus throughout his life. “I follow you wherever you go” was, in fact, his life-motto. This made him change course mid-way through his legal studies to enter the seminary. This also led him to found a Religious Congregation with the aim of sending missionaries where they were needed. Today, June 30, is the anniversary of when, back in 1910, the first members joined DePiro to start what we now know as the MSSP. It is an opportunity to thank God for this great man who, as a true follower of Christ, was able to listen and go wherever his Master led him.

It was evening. The crowd had been there for quite a while, listening to the words of the Master. Some had even asked for some sort of healing – a request which He did not refuse.

But now it was getting dark, and his close friends, those who were always with Him, started getting worried. These people must be getting hungry, and there were thousands of them. There was no point of keeping them there any longer. For, as the French author Jean de la Fontaine once said, “a hungry stomach cannot hear”. So, they asked the Master to send everybody away to try to find where to buy something to eat.

But that was not the way of the Master. Sending them away to fend for themselves was never part of his logic. So, he does the unthinkable. “You give them something to eat”, He tells these disciples of his, even though He knew quite well that they could not possibly provide for such a big crowd. Five loaves and two fish would hardly make a snack for them alone! Yet, for some reason, they obey when He tells them to start handing whatever they had to the crowds. And all had their full share, and there was plenty left.

On another evening a few months later – it was a Thursday evening, to be precise – Jesus was again with his disciples. This time the crowds were not there. This was to be a special day for all of them, a day of great intimacy never to be forgotten. Once more Jesus takes the bread, looks up to heaven in thanksgiving, blesses, breaks and distributes the bread. This time however, some very special words accompany these gestures: “Take this, this is my body” – followed by “this is my blood”, referring to the wine of the chalice he gave them afterwards. All this is followed by a special command: “Do this in remembrance of me”.

Interestingly, as we celebrate the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the Church offers us the first episode cited above, rather than the second one, as Gospel for today’s Mass. The disciples listen to the words of Jesus, which defy all logic. And unimaginable things happen.

During the Last Supper of Holy Thursday Jesus once more tells his disciples to do something. They are not meant to be spectators or mere recipients of what is being given. As disciples, they are to walk in the Master’s footsteps. What the Master did there was not a simple sharing of a meal. He was giving his own body, pouring his own blood. “Do this” did not refer solely to the breaking of bread, but also to what it implied: the total giving of oneself to others. What Jesus did sacramentally on Thursday evening, He repeated on the following day from the cross.

This is what we are living out every time we celebrate Eucharist. During Mass we listen to those words, over and over again: “do this in remembrance of me”. That is the command I am expected to live in my daily life, as I leave the Church building after Mass. What I celebrate in Church, I am called to live outside of it. “Do this” is asking me to give my life to others, without holding anything back, irrespective of who the “other” might be. Otherwise, my celebration would be a contradiction.

​Humanly speaking, this might be difficult to do. Not unlike what happened in the first story, doing what Jesus is asking me to do sometimes defies all logic. But it is worth taking the risk. The results might surprise us. 

It’s all about community, communion, relationships.

Although we do not often think about it, it is something that has become an integral part of our lives as believers. Every time we do the sign of the cross, every time we pray the “Glory be”, we always refer to God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Moreover, we were all baptized “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”. Why is this dogma so important for us?

I won’t attempt here to give an explanation of this mystery – three persons, one God. Scholars and theologians have written huge books trying to explain the trinity, and I do not think it is our scope here to give a scholarly or a deep theological explanation.

It is said that once, St. Augustine was walking by the seashore contemplating the mystery of the Holy Trinity. There he saw a little child running back and forth from the water to a spot on the seashore. The boy was using a shell to carry water from the large ocean and pour it into a small hole that he had made in the sand.

Augustine came up to him and asked him what he was doing. “I’m going to pour the entire ocean into this hole,” the boy replied.

“What?” said Augustine. “That is impossible, my dear child, the sea is so great and the shell and the hole are so little.” “It is no more impossible than what you are trying to do,” said the boy, “understand the immensity of the mystery of the Holy Trinity with your small mind!”

Still, there is a reason why the Church gives this feast so much importance. Because what I believe about God is going to help me understand who I really am.

In one of the stories of creation which we find in the first book of the bible, there is a verse which I really like. First, when it was time for God to create us humans, God says “Let us create mankind in our own image, in our own likeness”. Then, the book continues: “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created hem”.

When we say that we are created in God’s image, it does not mean that God looks physically like me! We are in God’s image in our togetherness, in our communion with each other. That is why today’s feast is so important. Some elements from the feast of the Holy Trinity can help us understand the implications of all this. We believe that the persons of the Trinity are all equal and distinct. Yet, the communion is so strong that it is one God that we speak of, not three.

Being created in God’s likeness, we are all equally important and distinct personalities. We are different to each other, not better than any other. And yet, we are not created for loneliness. We need each other. We are made for relationships, for communion.

Unfortunately, this communion has been broken by our sinfulness. We remember that, again in that very first book of the bible, sin brought division in us. There was division between man and God (Adam and Eve hide, because they are embarrassed), division amongst themselves (Adam blames Eve for his wrongdoing), and division between man and nature (Eve blames the snake, and working in nature now becomes difficult). Having seen this, God immediately promised to remedy this situation. We know that this promise was fulfilled in the coming of Jesus Christ. His death and resurrection reconciled us once more to God, amongst ourselves, and with nature.

​When I think about myself as a human being, remembering that I have been created in God’s own image, I remember that I have been created for communion, to build relationships. It is there that I find my fulfilment.

One day when Jesus was peaking to his friends he told them: “It is better for you that I leave, because if I do not go, the Paraclete will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you”.

I can imagine that it must have been very difficult for the disciples to accept, or even understand, these words. Here they were, listening to someone in whom they had put all their trust and their hopes. They had seen him performing miracles. They had listened attentively to his teachings.  They had seen the crowds following him in their thousands. Meeting him must have been the best thing that ever happened in their lives. And now he is telling them not only that he must go, but that it is for their own good. Because if he does not go, the “paraclete” or “advocate” – whoever that might be! – would not be sent to them. The conclusion for the disciples must have been clear, and huge! This one who will be sent by Jesus when he goes will be even better than Jesus himself for them!

Jesus cannot stay physically with them. He is to return to the Father – a celebration which we celebrated last week. But, many times, he had promised that he would not abandon his disciples. And Jesus keeps his promises. He found a number of different ways how to do this. He founded the Eucharist, through which we believe he is always present for us. And he gave us his own Spirit. By receiving the Spirit, we have received a share of Jesus’ own being. Jesus calls the Holy Spirit the Paraclete, which, literally, means someone who is called (kalein) beside/alongside (para). This Spirit is given to us, therefore, to accompany us throughout our lives. The Spirit is there to help us, to give us courage when it fails us, to enlighten us in times of confusion, to strengthen us when we feel week. Indeed, now we are now never alone.

What happened on that day of Pentecost when the disciples were locked in that upper room is truly amazing. These were people who, just a few weeks earlier, had run away full of fear. Having had some courage to venture out, Peter had soon discovered that he was probably scared more than the others. He forcefully denied in any way knowing Jesus. Now, after receiving the Holy Spirit they went out to preach, and nothing could stop them, not even the barrier of language. They found courage; they found wisdom to say the right things. They found energy within themselves, like a burning fire. The image of tongues of fire in this story is very powerful,
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Unfortunately, we often tend to forget the beauty of this gift which we have received in our baptism. Jesus knows that, on our own, we cannot do much good. He knows our weaknesses, our limitations, our brokenness. That is why he gave so much importance to this gift when he spoke to his disciples about it. We too are often painfully aware of what holds us back from doing good, or from doing what we know we should be doing. It is precisely in those moments when we need to remember what power we have received. All we have to do is to humbly ask for help. We won’t be disappointed.
 

There is a story that says that once, Leonardo da Vinci had started to work on a large canvas in his studio. For a while he worked at it – choosing the subject, planning the perspective, sketching the outline, applying the colors, with his own inimitable genius. Then, suddenly he stopped working on it. Calling one of his talented students, the master invited him to complete the work. The horrified student protested that he was both unworthy and unable to complete the great painting which his master had begun. But da Vinci silenced him. "Will not what I have done inspire you to do your best?"

This story came to my mind as I was reflecting on today’s liturgy. Jesus goes up to Heaven, where he had come from. In a way, his mission is accomplished. He has done what he had come to do. And yet, simultaneously, the mission of Jesus goes on. It is still a work in progress. The only difference is that it is, now up to us to continue what he had started. Like Leonardo’s student, a number of questions and doubts may come to mind. Am I worthy? Probably not. Have I got what it takes? On my own, definitely not! But unlike the above-mentioned case, what makes it possible in my case is not simply the inspiration coming from what the master has already done. It is, rather, a power coming from the master himself. He has promised to give the Holy Spirit, the same Spirit He had. This is what is being promised today, and what we shall celebrate on Pentecost Sunday.

For the time being it is enough to be with that group of disciples on the day Jesus went up to heaven. Both Ascension narratives of Luke (the one in the Acts of the Apostles and in the other one in his Gospel), come with a mission. The disciple of Jesus is not supposed to stay there, “standing, looking into the sky”. He is, rather, to be a “witness” of Jesus, sharing with others all that Jesus is and stands for. In particular, he is to preach “repentance for the forgiveness of sins to all the nations”. This had been, essentially, the mission of Jesus when he was on this earth. It is the possibility of a new life, free from sin, free, that is, from all that hinders us from being free enough to love God and neighbor.

Speaking about this feast-day of last year, Pope Francis made a beautiful reflection:

“This feast contains two elements. On one hand, it directs our look to Heaven, where Jesus, glorified, is seated at the right hand of God. On the other, it recalls the beginning of the Church’s mission: why? Because Jesus risen and ascended into Heaven sends His disciples to spread the Gospel throughout the world; therefore, the Ascension exhorts us to raise our gaze to Heaven, to then turn it back immediately to earth, carrying out the tasks that the Risen Lord has entrusted to us.”

​Yes, I do have to look towards Heaven. Not in a nostalgic way like the look of someone looking at an airplane on which a loved one has just departed. But because I have to keep reminding myself that I constantly need Him to be able to fulfil my mission. That look, then, necessarily turns towards the world around me, wherever I happen to be. It is here that I now have to continue Jesus’ mission. The need to be truly able to love both God and neighbor is seen and felt all around me.