Bishop shares what Jesus means to him

Last month, the annual Spring Enrichment program, sponsored by our Office for Evangelization and Catechesis, focused on the theme, "Who do you say I am?"

I was invited to respond to that question, which Jesus posed to His disciples so long ago, along with my ecumenical colleagues from seven other Christian denominations.

It is a question that is both profoundly communal and deeply personal. It is a question whose answer is shaped by scriptural revelation, Church councils and synods, creedal statements, theological reflection, history, tradition, ethnic, cultural and family background, and, of course, personal experience.

My own response to Jesus' question, "Who do you say I am?" is an ever-unfolding one. It is an accumulation of how I have perceived or experienced Jesus at various stages of my own life's journey.

Early answer

Let me review five of these stages and, hopefully, stimulate your own response to this probing inquiry, which goes to the very heart of Christian discipleship.

As a child and adolescent, I perceived Jesus as the human face of God. My understanding of Jesus was shaped largely by the Baltimore Catechism, the religious sisters and brothers who taught me in school, and the perspective of my parents and family members.

On the one hand, I looked upon Jesus as my brother, friend, mentor and role model to whom I could turn in prayer and embrace in Holy Communion; and from whom I could seek forgiveness in confession and strength as a soldier of Christ, which I became at Confirmation.

God's son

On the other hand, while Jesus may have been the human face of God, it was His divinity that was foremost in my mind.

Despite the biblical stories of His birth, childhood, public ministry, passion, suffering and death, I had little appreciation of how fully human Jesus was; of how He experienced all the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, the joys and sorrows, the hopes and disappointments, the fears, hurts and anxieties that are part of the human condition.

Thus, in my formative years, I clearly perceived Jesus as God's divine son, to be worshipped and adored, to whom I prayed for favors (for a passing grade on a tough test, for a prom date, for selecting the right vocation or for the recovery of a sick relative or friend).

And since Jesus died for my sins, He would be the one to whom I would be ultimately accountable on the Day of Judgment, when He will separate the sheep from the goats.

"Who do you say I am?" You are "the One" my parents, teachers and pastors have spoken about so glowingly -- my big brother to be emulated, and, yes, my God, to be feared.

Maturing answer

During my years of seminary formation, of college and graduate studies, Jesus became more the focus of scriptural exegesis, of philosophical and theological speculation, of sacramentology, and of liturgical rituals and prayers.

I began to appreciate more fully how He was prefigured in the Hebrew Scriptures, was made flesh through the Incarnation, and fulfilled the Father's will through His life of preaching, teaching, suffering, dying and rising.

I grappled with trying to understand the decrees of the councils of the Church, which combated the Christological heresies of the early centuries of Christianity: Gnosticism, Arianism, Nestorianism and Monophysitism.

Mysteries

I sought to comprehend the great mystery of three persons in one God; of what it means for Jesus to be both God and man, possessing two natures, one divine and the other human, not confused but united into one person of God's Son -- and co-equal with the Father and the Spirit.

I also struggled to grasp the reason for the schisms with Orthodox Christians, the roots of the Reformation and the response of the Council of Trent -- in particular, its efforts to explain the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist through the philosophical concept of transubstantiation as well as its teachings on the priesthood of Jesus.

Then, of course, there was the perennial question about the beneficiaries of Christ's redemption and how He is the Savior of all, even those who have never heard of Him or professed belief in Him.

Learning more

I was concerned as well with how best to incorporate these theological, scriptural and historical ideas into concepts, language, stories and concrete examples that would make these sublime truths relevant to the day-to-day experience of those to whom I would be called to proclaim the Good News.

Little did I realize in those heady days of scholarly pursuit, fueled by the excitement and ferment generated by the Second Vatican Council of the 1960s, which was in session at the time, that -- rather than unfold the mystery of Christ to others -- it would be the people I serve who would reveal Christ to me through the spiritual depth and heroic witness of their Christian lives.

"Who do you say I am?" You are the one whose life and teachings I have studied, which are truly the source of wonder, inspiration, mystery and awe.

Early years

In my early years of priesthood, serving in the inner city of Albany's South End, I was moved deeply by the social dimension of the Gospel and by the emerging insights of liberation theology.

I was struck by the response Jesus gave to the disciples of John the Baptist when they asked if He was the Messiah, or were they to expect another?

Jesus said: "Go and tell John all that you have seen and heard: The blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear, lepers are cleansed and the poor have the Good News preached to them."

In other words, in response to this critical question about who He was and the nature of His ministry, Jesus did not appeal to His divine origin or to His messianic titles, but to His care and concern for the poor and needy.

From this, it flows that the Christian life must also be "incarnational," that is, characterized by a profound concern for people and their concrete human situation, and rooted in a response to Christ's love that finds its full expression in our love for and involvement with others.

Called to change

To be faithful to the social dimensions of the Good News, however, and as disciples of Jesus, we must not only be Good Samaritans, providing compassionate assistance to those in need, but also liberators and catalysts for change.

Like the indignant Jesus confronting the hypocritical authority of the scribes or Pharisees and driving the money-changers from the temple, we must seek to bring about structural and systemic change by challenging those who oppress, manipulate or demean others, whether they be members of the government, the business community or religious institutions themselves.

"Who do you say that I am?" You are the one who reveals Himself in the least among us and who invites us to be their defenders.

Bishop's understanding

In my responsibilities as bishop over the past 30 years, I have been greatly influenced by Christ in His role as the Good Shepherd.

I have been challenged to reach out to those who are hurt, alienated, abandoned and forgotten: the unchurched, the fallen away, gays and lesbians, the separated and divorced, migrants and immigrants, those with physical, mental and developmental disabilities, those hurt by changes in Church liturgical or pastoral practices or by the closure or mergers of schools and parishes.

I have resonated especially with St. Paul's challenge to build up the body of Christ, the Church, by helping the laity to appreciate more fully their baptismal call to holiness and ministry, and to be about the transformation of the society by nurturing communion with the wider Roman Catholic community, and by fostering ecumenical and interfaith dialogue and relationships.

Proclaiming truths

In particular, I have been challenged by how to proclaim afresh the perennial truths of Christ's teaching in a culture increasingly characterized by consumerism, narcissism, individualism, hedonism and moral relativism, which are so antithetical to the Christian message, and by a rampant secularism that seeks to confine religious faith and moral values to the purely private realm.

I have looked to the example of Jesus for guidance on how to do this with compassion, tolerance, integrity, civility and pastoral sensitivity.

"Who do you say I am?" You are the vine to which we must be grafted if we are to sustain ourselves amidst the insidious forces which seek to undermine what you have revealed to us.

Jesus on Calvary

Finally, in more recent years, the image of Jesus with which I have most identified is that of the Suffering Servant.

I have emphasized with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane: sweating blood, anguishing over the attacks of His enemies, and profoundly aware of taking upon Himself the burden of sin and evil in the world, leading Him to the cross of Calvary.

This Jesus was buffeted by betrayal and false accusations. The betrayal of clergy sexual abuse has loomed large in my own life and that of our Church over the past five years. The violation of sacred trust on the part of priests has caused incalculable and, at times, irreparable damage for victims of abuse and their families.

This betrayal of innocent victims has been a scandal of monumental proportions, as has the lack of transparency and accountability in dealing with it. In light of this betrayal, I have felt like Judas on the night of the Last Supper.

False accusations

At the same time, while feeling like an unworthy and failed leader when I was accused personally of sexual misconduct with minors, I resonated with the false accusations Jesus endured standing before the Sanhedrin and Pilate.

I felt the sting and humiliation of being recklessly accused in such a public and sensational fashion.

As a product of a family plagued by the disease of alcoholism, I know there is nothing more feared than shame. However, in the face of these false accusations and the psychic pain it produced, I was able to find strength from Jesus' experience of revilement and His willingness, in the face of such intolerable evil, to open His arms on the cross and surrender Himself freely and unconditionally to the Father's will.

"Who do you say I am?" You are the one who lovingly took upon yourself our burdens and who gives us the courage and strength to cope with our own brokenness, hurt and pain.

Jesus altogether

Jesus, of course, reflects all of the images I have cited and more. Like contemplating a precious diamond, we can never fully exhaust the richness of Christ's personhood or respond adequately to His question, "Who do you say I am?"

He is all that I learned from scripture studies, theological reflection, practical pastoral experience, personal and liturgical prayer, and so much more.

At some stage in our life, one or another image of Christ may predominate more in our relationship with Him than others. All are correct, yet all are strikingly incomplete.

In the final analysis, then, it seems to me that the best we can do is to respond tentatively to Christ's question, "Who do you say I am?" and -- with the humility of doubting Thomas -- exclaim from the depth of our heart, "My Lord and my God."

(6/7/07)