Endings are so difficult for me. I simply do not do well with endings. I never have. Yet, as we all know, endings are inevitable. Too, so many of us often must face endings far more momentous than those of a meal, a song, or a book. Perhaps the ending we face is that of the life of a loved-one, or the dissolution of a relationship, or the stoppage of meaningful work or employment. These sorts of ‘ends’ can be and often are somewhat ‘soul-crushing.’ To be sure, I have faced all these endings in one form or another and am still here writing. Words poured onto a page are often hollow solace for the soul that must mourn the loss that comes with each ending.
What can, what does help in the healing process, then? I might contend that it is certainly not my words, but rather, the Word; that is, the verbum Dei – the very Word of God.
If I were a betting man (and let us be honest, I am), I would bet that Jesus – like most persons – was also not too keen on endings either. Granted, I could certainly be wrong in my conjecture, but Sacred Scripture certainly paints the picture of the God-Man as One who relished in and enjoyed perseverance, overcoming, and fresh starts as opposed to One who passively accepted the inevitability of loss or endings.
I would like to highlight for you, now, but two examples from God’s Word wherein we see Jesus speaking about, if not promising, that finality may not be as final as we suspect… at least on this side of eternity. To be sure, the point of this brief exercise is not to shift focus away from the very real – and palpable – pain of having to face endings in this life. Rather, it is to demonstrate that just when it seems as if though we have reached an end of our own, there, in our brokenness, lostness, and uncertainty, we can encounter the God of Newness and Unlimited Beginnings.
The First Example
Our first example comes from within the context of what theologians and biblical scholars refer to as ‘The Last Supper Discourses’, or the intimate conversations Jesus had with the Twelve Apostles during The Last Supper before his ultimate arrest and Passion. It is in the fourteenth chapter of John’s Gospel wherein Jesus makes a beautiful promise to His Twelve, and by ‘spiritual succession’, to us also.
Jesus’ promise not to leave His Twelve (and all of us) as orphans illustrates, clearly, His refusal to abandon those He loves and has taught in the ways of love. Moreover, the reference wherein He says, “I will come to you”, is an allusion to the sending forth of the Holy Spirit. In the ‘eternal silences’ of the Trinity, God dwells forever as an inexhaustible fount of newness which overflows from the continual exchange of love between the three Persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Apart from His promise to come to us Himself in the Person of the Holy Spirit, Jesus also directly promises us life, but there is even more still.
The promise of life Jesus gives is qualified by what He says after this, namely, “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.” This deep interconnectedness between the Father and the Son is also held out to us as possibility should we choose to accept it. Think about what Jesus says: “…I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.” Thus, if Jesus is in His Father (God, the Creator) and we are in Jesus, then through, with, and in Jesus, we have our access to the Father and all that the Father is, namely, a Trinity of inexhaustible love, mercy, newness, forgiveness, hope, tenderness, and compassion.
The Second Example
Our second example also comes from John’s Gospel and is only about two chapters later than the first. In John’s sixteenth chapter, we see Jesus again speaking to His Apostles. But, this time, something is different about Jesus’ words. There is an unexpected, if not startling, tone to them… at least on the face of things. But it is never ‘the surface’ of the matter with Jesus. The content of His words are always meant for spiritual, emotional, and mental ‘digestion’. That is, we must really ponder what He means. Some context, here, would prove helpful so let us look at the entirety of the passage which serves as this second example.
Here is, before our very eyes, an instance wherein Jesus foretells of His own impending death. But we mustn’t stop there. What does the Lord say? “A little while and you will no longer see me…” Certainly, here, He is talking about His betrayal, arrest, passion, crucifixion, and death. There was, after all, some time (though briefly) that Jesus had to spend in the tomb. However, read on. What does the Lord say? “…And again a little while later and you will see me.” Here, He is talking about His having conquered over the gates of hell, sin, and death as well as His own resurrection!
This is, for us believers (or it should be, anyway), an absolute earthquake! We should be shaken and moved, but not with sadness, fear, or trepidation, but instead with joy unspeakable. Very God of Very God knows He must suffer and die, but He has no plans of remaining in the realm of death. He has plans to conquer, to overcome, to emerge victorious from the grave!
Personally, I love the last verse of this particular section and example. In the twenty-second verse, Jesus says, “So also now you are in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.” While these words may have been veiled in mystery for the Apostles, we all have the advantage of hindsight. The Apostles also later would come to understand these words spoken by their Master and Our Lord.
Moreover, His words, here, have a triple meaning. On the one hand, certainly, Jesus is referring to His need to die (“You will no longer see me”) and to His resurrection (“A little while later and you will see me”), but He is also referring to His ascension (“You will no longer see me”) and the descent of the Holy Spirit (“A little while later and you will see me”) as well as His own coming again in glory at the end of time (or what theologians refer to as ‘the parousia’).
In all the cases cited above, Jesus expresses intentions to return to us, His beloved children!
So, what, then are we to make of all of this? My own words could not summarize the impact of what these scriptural examples mean to those of us who are persons of faith. I will, for my part, say merely this: Jesus is not one for endings. He is the God of beginnings.
Saint Clement of Rome perhaps said it best when he penned these now infamous words, namely, that “The Lord has turned all of our sunsets into sunrise.”
To the God of Beginnings, then, let us pray:
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| Last Supper by Nando Martins |
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