Generators from below
(Jn 14:21-26)
The Father's love unites us to Christ through a call that manifests itself wave after wave. And on that path the Son himself is revealed, also through genuine community life.
The Gospel passage reflects the question-and-answer catechesis typical of the Johannine communities of Asia Minor, committed to questioning: this time the theme of misunderstanding is introduced by Judas, not Iscariot.
Even the Jews had been waiting for an eloquent public outing to believe in the divine status of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps such an unassuming manifestation could only generate scepticism.
How is it that in Him one remains in the sphere of concealment, and His own intimates do not stir up reactions? Wouldn't an open and sensational twist be appropriate?
And why experience the difficulties from within? Then, why were relationships regarded as 'important' regarded with increasing aversion, extraneous, irritating?
Well, Christ's vulnerable messianism - seemingly defensive, avoidant - is not the kind to dispel doubts.
He remained bare. So he did not lose his own naturalness; as if he had perceived the danger of lofty aberrations, all external.
The authentic Messiah protected his identity, his human, spiritual, missionary character. In this way he avoided all the excessive glorious titles provided for in the theological culture of ancient Israel.
The life of Faith in us also continues invisibly: not surrounded by outward miracles and strong feelings; rather, innervated with convictions (recognised in themselves).
In the time of the new relationship with God and the brethren, the old concept of the Lord's Anointed One who observes and imposes the Law of the Chosen People (forcefully) on all nations has no relevance.
In whatever condition and latitude, God is always present and at work, starting from the core, to bring us back to the breath of being.
The Father, the Son, and believers, form in mutual acquaintance a wide-meshed circle of love, reciprocity and obedience, through free responses that are neither stereotypical nor paralysing.
Not parcelled out on details and casuistry, but centred on fundamental options.
"My commandments" [v.21: subjective genitive] is a theological expression designating the very Person of the Risen One in action.
'Person' unfolded in human history thanks to his mystical Body: the variegated People of God, whose versatility is an added value - not a limitation or contamination of purity.
Of course, Love is the only reality that cannot be 'commanded'.
But Jesus designates and advocates it as such to emphasise the departure from the Sinai Covenant, which it sums up and yet replaces.
The plural form "commandments" recognises the range of the various forms of exchange and personalisation of love.
No orientation, doctrine, code, can ever overcome it, or conversely make it swampy.
In the Gospels, love is spoken of not in terms of sentiment [an emotion subject to inflection, or one that adjusts itself to the perfections of the beloved] but as a real action, a gesture that makes the other feel free and adequate.
The People of God reflect Christ to the extent that they develop their destiny by living totally in gift, response, exchange, and overflowing in Gratuity.
All this in a way that is unprecedented for each person, for each micro- and macro-relational situation, age of life, characteristics, type of defect, or current cultural paradigm.
In short, the Lord does not like us to elevate ourselves by detaching ourselves from the earth and from our brothers and sisters: the honour due to the Father is that which we offer to his children.
So there is no need to rise by ways of ascetic observance ["ascending" as in upstairs: the lift is only descending].
It is He who reveals Himself, offering Himself to us: this is His joy.
He comes down from "heaven".
He manifests Himself in ourselves and within the folds of history, manifesting His desire to merge with our life (v.21) in order to increase it, complete it, and enhance its capacities [in qualitative terms].
The Apostles, conditioned by the conventional religious mentality - all catwalks - question Jesus' attitude, modest and little inclined to spectacle (v.22).
They do not accept a Messiah who does not impose himself on everyone's attention, who does not astonish the world, who does not shout wild proclamations.
The Master prefers that in his Word we recognise an active correspondence with the desire for integral life that we carry within (vv.23-24).
Such a Logos-event must be assumed in being, as a Call distinct from the commonplaces of the widespread, conformist thought of others.
Indeed, in said Call there lurks a sympathy, an understanding, an arrow, an efficient and creative vigour, which makes itself Fire and solidity of personal Presence, starting from within - at the same time faint and ringing.
In ancient forensic culture, 'Paraclete' (v.26) was said to be the eminent personage of the assembly - today we would say a kind of lawyer - who without saying anything stood beside to justify the accused.
[The latter could be guilty, but deserving of pardon; however, he needed a kind of public guarantor to guarantee his fate. That is, he could be innocent, but unable or incapable of finding witnesses in his favour to exonerate him...]
Such an attribute of the Spirit alludes to an intensity, intimate grounding and reciprocity of silent Relationship that becomes Person, and knows where to go.
Companion who approves; who leads heart, character, life itself, not to the pillory, but to the full flowering of ourselves.
Thanks to His support, we are not enchanted by lofty roles, strong words; formulas, impressions, tumultuous feelings: we enter into the demanding, fulfilled depths of Love.
We widen the field. We welcome a different guiding image, one that presses in and takes us by surprise, but subtly. It does not reproach or scold us.
It happens without earthquakes, thunders and thunderbolts - partial - but through the action of the Spirit that internalises, accompanies, nourishes, updates and brings alive the interpretation of the Word (v.26).
The Message of the Gospels has a generating root that cannot be reduced to a one-sided and cumbersome experience; all codified and moralistic but empty as in sectarian situations, always struggling with themselves and the world.
Venturing into one's own Exodus, each one discovers hidden resources and an amplification of perspectives that dilate and complete one's being, broadening the experience of the vocational character that corresponds to it.
Between life on the road and the Word of God - the golden rule that instils self-esteem - an unpredictable, versatile, eclectic, non-one-way understanding is kindled, which transcends the concatenations of identity.
In its scope, the Recall remains identical, but over time expands awareness of its facets - indeed, integrating them.
Richly expressed and not already ratified, Creator and creature do not authentically externise themselves in a fixed, sanctioned manner, and in reference to a doctrine-discipline code, but in the surplus freedom of life.
Even today, as new needs and questions arise, there is an appropriate overabundance of new answers - at last also from the Magisterium.
Plausible in the adventure of Faith, but which would drive any external religion crazy.
To internalise and live the message:
Do you recognise the Work of the Spirit or reject it as a nuisance? What strikes you about the new Magisterium?
Do you find this approach in the Proclamation, Catechesis, Animation, Pastoral Care and in your own Way?