In December
2005 it was announced on the news that a man called Denis Donaldson,
one of Sinn Féin’s (the political wing of the IRA) top men,
confessed to having been a British spy for twenty years. People
were amazed that this could happen. The poor man obviously
could not live with this any more and so he came out into the open.
He then had to go into hiding, and sadly, though not surprisingly, he
was killed four months later. God be good to him. I
remember thinking at the time that he must now be living in terrible
fear. Fear of being hunted down and killed. He had
betrayed many, and now he would be afraid of what they would do to
him. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
2000 years
earlier on Holy Thursday night, out of fear the Apostles had all
abandoned Jesus, who they believed was the Son of God. Judas
had betrayed him for money. Peter tried to be faithful, but
ended up publicly swearing that he never knew Jesus. They all
betrayed him. Now after Easter they are locked in the upper
room afraid. Why are they afraid? One: because they could
face the same punishment as Jesus since they were his associates.
Two: perhaps they were also afraid of what God would do to them.
They had betrayed the Son of God. It is a very human response
to be afraid of God when we feel we have betrayed him in some way, by
the way we live, or by something we have done.
Then
something beautiful happens. Jesus is suddenly standing with
them in the room and he says: ‘Peace be with you.’ The
first thing he does is to take away their fear. There are no
words of condemnation for having abandoned him a few days before.
There are no words of judgement on how they were unable to be
faithful. Instead: ‘Peace be with you.’ ‘It’s
alright.’
I don’t
know about you, but I can certainly say that I have often felt that I
have betrayed Jesus and indeed sometimes wish I was not a priest,
when my own sinfulness gets the better of me. And in case you
think I am just trying to be holy by saying this, I am not. I
am a sinner. That is one thing that God has left me under no
illusions about. Sometimes I think it would be better for me
not to be a priest as I would not have to deal with what is sacred.
I could run and hide, so to speak. Think of Peter when Jesus
worked the miracle of the great catch of fish. Peter’s
reaction was, ‘Leave me Lord I am a sinful man.’ Yet when
Jesus appears to the Apostles, the first thing He does is to put them
at ease. ‘Peace be with you.’
Each time in
the mass when we recall this wish of Jesus to give us his peace—which
is not just a universal prayer for peace, but a reminder of what
Jesus said to his followers—He is saying, ‘do not be afraid,
because I am not here to condemn you, even if you deserve to be
condemned. Peace be with you.’ God only wants us to
come closer to him and to know that He is not going to act as we do
to each other, with frowns or giving out. He knows what we are
like. He knows that we betray him, but He still tells us to be
at peace. I for one, find that very comforting.
Think too of
Thomas who in his grief at the death of Jesus, would not take the
words of others to convince him that Jesus was alive. When you
are grieving you don’t want someone else to give you false hope,
because it is too painful. And then when Jesus did appear to
him He was so kind in helping him to believe. No giving out,
but instead Jesus offered Thomas to put his finger into his wounds,
so that he would believe. No condemnation for not being good
enough; only encouragement.
Today as we
celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday, let me finish with this story. There
was a young soldier in Napoleon’s army who was tired of war and
wanted to go home. He decided to desert the army, but he was
caught. The punishment for desertion was death. Now this
man was the only son of his mother who was now widowed. His
mother happened to work in Napoleon’s house and the day before his
execution she managed to get to see Napoleon in person. She
pleaded for her son, and told him that he was the last thing she had
in this world. The mother begged Napoleon to have mercy on the
man. Napoleon said in reply, ‘he doesn’t deserve to be
shown mercy’. But the mother said back to Napoleon, ‘if he
did deserve it, it wouldn’t be mercy.’
Peace be with you.