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Jesus becomes our day

Gospel reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Mk 1, 29-39)

Updated March 12th, 2024 at 04:33 pm (Europe\Rome)
La Croix International

Jesus silences the demons, even though they knew who he was. Why does he deprive himself of such a providential collaboration?

Wisdom teaches us that truth is not indifferent to the mouth that proclaims it. Allowing the demons to speak is to take the risk that their listeners will follow them. For the evil spirit can use the truth to imprison us in its deadly game.

In contrast, the Gospel is a liberating word. 

There is certainly an uneasiness in this freedom, because it works on us, hollows us out from within.

This is the condition, so that faith is not knowledge stuck onto a question, but a fruitful germination which passes through an uncertain process.

In order to believe, we must not fear being surprised or bewildered. Like Peter, we should not simply believe that Jesus took the laurels for his actions in Capernaum and then decided to leave.

This kind of questioning creates the space to welcome in truth the grace of His encounter.

“That is why I came”

We discover the life of Jesus by reading the Gospels. These texts are not constructed as demonstrations or as mystery novels.

Rather, they try to bring to life the experiences of those who encountered Jesus.

Even though Israel expected the Messiah, the appearance of Jesus in the rural world of Galilee, in the public space of the time as we would say today, was not foreseen.

It was unthinkable, inexplicable. Being a disciple of Christ, therefore, calls us to cross the threshold of this incomprehensible event.

The text helps us to do so by putting these words on Jesus’ lips: "That is why I came."

Came from where? 

From Peter's house where he spent a small part of the night? From the village of Capernaum to come and pray in the desert? From his remote town of Nazareth to speak in the villages crossed by the effervescence of life on the shores of the lake?

Or further still, coming from God to live among people in a truly human existence?

These answers, however uncertain they may be, converge on Jesus’ desire: he really wanted to come to us.

“That is why I came.”

But he came to us for what? What can this "that" be that justifies his presence?

Like each of the disciples, who undoubtedly had their own theory or explanation, I can formulate my answer by looking at what the Gospel disrupts, displaces or sharpens in my life.

Through an interplay of light and shadows, might I be able to identify what my life would be like “without that”?

There is, of course, what Jesus did, what he said, or simply the model of humanity that he was.

One way to meditate on today’s Gospel passage may be to close my eyes and see the image of a good man who does not want words that enclose, but who is sensitive to the surrounding suffering and concerned that everyone should have their share of light.

He is a man who comes out at night to be the day.

Arnaud Alibert is a presbyter and superior of the Assumptionist Community in the suburbs of Lyon (France).