Part Nine: Promises and Blessings of the Gospel
The promises contained in the great miracle of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ can be quickly summarized in three points: one day we shall be with Him, we shall be like Him, and we shall have “glory.”
First, on the basis of Easter we can know that if we entrust our hearts and lives to His care, in repentance and faith, then we shall always be with Him, just as Jesus Himself promised to his disciples in John 14:
In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go and prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you I will come again and receive you to myself, that where I am you may be also. (Jn 14:2-3)
The resurrection confirms that these promises from Jesus are true (presumably, one can trust the promises of someone whom God raised from the dead!).
Second, because of Easter, we can know that everyone who lives in union with Christ Jesus will become like Him forever. In other words, just as Jesus was not raised as a disembodied spirit — a mere ghost (see Lk 24:37-43) — but in the fullness of His humanity, body and soul, so we now have the assurance that we too will be raised to heavenly life in the fullness of our humanity. As St. Paul wrote in Philippians 3:20-21: “Our commonwealth is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power which enables him to subject all things to himself.”
Third, because of Easter, the New Testament promises that those who live in union with Christ Jesus will one day share His “glory.” Now, glory is an awesome word, for it means, on the one hand, “rightful honor”— in other words, that one day Christ will turn to His disciples and honor us by saying “Well done, good and faithful servants” (Mt 25:21, 23). Of course, He will say it “with a twinkle in His eye,” because He knows (as we do, in our heart of hearts) that any and all the good we could ever do could only come from His grace prompting, assisting, and guiding us every step of the way.
And then “glory” has a further, more wonderful and mysterious meaning. To share His glory means to be so immersed in the loving radiance of God that, just as the risen Son was, so we too, one day, can become by his Spirit: “strong, radiant, wise, beautiful, and drenched in joy” (C.S. Lewis).
We begin to experience that joy of sharing in Christ’s glory whenever our hearts become fully surrendered to Him in complete trust. Although that joy has its fullness only in heaven, it begins even now, whenever we turn to our merciful Lord and say from our hearts the simple words found at the bottom of the image of the risen Savior (called, in the Catholic world, the Image of the Divine Mercy): “Jesus, I trust in You.”
The promises and blessings of the Gospel, however, do not stop there. There’s more, and more, and even more….
Jesus did not just promise to be with us always in heaven, but also in ways that begin here and now. As the risen Lord promised: “For lo, I am with you always, even until the end of time” (Mt 28:20 KJV).
He is with us, first of all, in the gift of the Holy Spirit, so that the same divine life that was in the risen Jesus, and that radiates from Him at every moment, can be in our hearts as well, healing and sanctifying us within, as a preparation and foretaste of heavenly glory. As St. Paul wrote to the Galatians (4:6): “Because you are sons of God, God has sent the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying ‘Abba, Father!’” Thus, already in this life — and especially in prayer and worship — we can know not only with our minds, but in our hearts too in living personal experience the fatherly love of God, through the indwelling Spirit of His Son.
The Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and High Anglican traditions of Christianity believe that Jesus remains present with His people in another special way during their sojourn on earth: He is with us in an intimate, immediate, and miraculous manner in the Blessed Sacrament. Jesus said: “For my flesh is real food, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in Him (Jn 6:55-56). We believe that by His own covenant promise, He abides with us in a life-giving way not only through the Holy Spirit, but also in the fullness of His risen humanity, body and soul, under the outer signs of bread and wine in the Eucharist (I Cor 10:16-17; 11: 23-25).
And then, having adopted us as members of God’s family, the Church, by the Holy Spirit in Baptism, and having united Himself to us in the most intimate way in Holy Communion, He gives to us what every family needs in order to be complete: He gives us a mother to care for us. Catholics believe that from the Cross, He gave us Mary, His own mother, to be our mother too, the perfect model for us of trustful surrender to God (Lk 1:38), and a tender, maternal intercessor for all of the beloved disciples of Christ by her prayers (Jn 19:25-27).
Now, when we look at all that philosophical reason can tell us (as we did in articles 3-5 in this series) and then add to that all that God has revealed to us through the Scriptures and the Church (articles 6-9), in the light of all this, are we now equipped to say from the depths of our hearts, even in times of human misery and sorrow, “Jesus, I trust in You”?
When life is oppressively dark, when afflictions of all kinds assail us, when we do not see or understand how God is working in our painful situation, or why he does not seem to answer our prayers — when we cannot even feel His presence at those times when we think we most need to — can we still say, from the depths of our hearts, on the basis of the objective truth shining out from both human reason and divine revelation: “Jesus, I trust in You”? Or at least: “Jesus, I want to trust in You; I believe, Lord, but help my unbelief!” (Mk 9:24).
The question then is whether we can trust the infinite Creator God, the God of Bethlehem, Calvary, and Easter morning. Is there enough here for us to be able to trust, with St. Paul, that “all things work for good for those who love God” (Rom 8:28) — or, at least, to begin to trust? Can we not trust that a God who has done so much for us can also “write straight with crooked lines,” and bring “un-thought of goods out of permitted evils”? In short, can we finally trust, in the light of reason, and in the greater light of the Gospel, that God loves us freely, completely, and unconditionally, no matter how dark things sometimes seem to be?
That, I suggest, is the challenge of this whole series of articles — and more importantly, the basic challenge of the whole Christian Faith. On the basis of what light we have, of what we can see by that light — the light of human reason and divine revelation — can we then trust Him for what we cannot see, when trouble and afflictions, and our simple human limitations darken our vision?
May our Savior light a flame of faith within our hearts, so that by the light of that faith we may walk safely through the darkness, and learn to trust Him more and more.
Robert Stackpole, STD
Mere Christian Fellowship
Next time: A Catholic “Extra” — the Mystery of Redemptive Suffering
