And he taught his disciples, and said to them: The Son of man shall be betrayed into the hands of men, and they shall kill him; and after that he is killed, he shall rise again the third day.
But they understood not the word, and they were afraid to ask him.
And they came to Capharnaum. And when they were in the house, he asked them: What did you treat of in the way?
But they held their peace, for in the way they had disputed among themselves, which of them should be the greatest.
And sitting down, he called the twelve, and saith to them: If any man desire to be first, he shall be the last of all, and the minister of all.
And taking a child, he set him in the midst of them. Whom when he had embraced, he saith to them:
Whosoever shall receive one such child as this in my name, receiveth me. And whosoever shall receive me, receiveth not me, but him that sent me.
John answered him, saying: Master, we saw one casting out devils in thy name, who followeth not us, and we forbade him. (Mark 9:30-37 DRA)
One of the greatest and perhaps least appreciated benefits of being Catholic is having a complete Bible. This is also true of the Orthodox, though their canon varies by particular church (e.g. Coptics and Ethiopians have some additional books), but for Catholics, our canon was first set in the patristic age by the authority of the Magisterium and then, using the standard of St. Jerome’s Vulgate and the testimony of its millennium-long use in Church teaching, the Council of Trent established the canon infallibly. Accordingly, as Catholics, we can enjoy the profound depth, wisdom and beauty to be found in what are called the “deuterocanonical” or “second canon” books in the Old Testament, trusting in the authority of the Church and her perennial Tradition in its recognition of which books are inspired by God.
Protestants today do not usually include these books in their Bibles, even though this did not become common until 1825, before which both the original Luther Bible and King James Version did include them. One of the reasons they will often give for leaving these books out (they also use other arguments, none of which hold up under scrutiny) is that they are not prophetic. This is fallacious in its premise, since divine inspiration rather than prophetic content is the true standard for a book’s canonicity in Scripture, nor do all books in the modern Protestant canon contain prophecy, but this is also wrong because, as can be seen in the first reading today from the Wisdom of Solomon, they certainly do contain prophecy, some of which are even more explicit than others cited in the New Testament.
This passage is practically a verbatim description of the “revilement and torture” of Christ’s Passion, anticipated by Him in today’s Gospel, and the wording used in the Gospels seems to have had this in mind, particularly in the taunts used against Him by onlookers as He hung from the Cross. It even calls Him “the son of God” and describes His death as “shameful,” with the most shameful death in the first century being crucifixion. Using the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament which was the standard Bible both for Jews at the time and for the early Christians, this passage certainly would have been familiar to the sacred writers of the Gospels.
Like other parts of Scripture, this passage can also be applied in a moral (tropological) sense to Christians today. In the Beatitudes, Our Lord told us, “Blessed are ye when they shall revile you, and persecute you, and speak all that is evil against you, untruly, for my sake: Be glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in heaven. For so they persecuted the prophets that were before you.” (Mt 5:11-12) St. Paul also described the unique nature of Christian discipleship: “And all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution.” (2 Tim 3:12) In this world ruled by Satan, Christians who genuinely seek to imitate Christ and “convince the world of sin” (Jn 16:8) should expect to be persecuted just as He was.
Like the reading from Wisdom, Christ explained the motives behind these persecutions: “because the light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than the light: for their works were evil.” (Jn 3:19) Sin is like a drug; through original sin, we are all born with an addiction to it, and once we taste it in maturity, it will continue to pull at us for the rest of our life, seducing us with its momentary relief and its power over others. This is the glamour of sin which Satan rewards with success in the kingdoms of the Earth given over to him. (Lk 4:5-6)
The world will mock us and ridicule us, asking why God does not save us from our afflictions if He really exists and loves us, tempting us to see how much we can resist before giving in to sin as they have. This is a common theme in modern storytelling: the final weakness of the just man as a proof that in the end, no one can remain virtuous, that the good is only for those who live comfortably. Yet this is actually the opposite of the truth: luxury, comfort, success and popular approval are what truly breed vice and spiritual slavery, whereas, as St. Paul explained, “we glory also in tribulations, knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience trial; and trial hope; And hope confoundeth not: because the charity of God is poured forth in our hearts, by the Holy Ghost, who is given to us.” (Rom 5:3-5)
How often do we see people in disastrous situations rise to the occasion and sacrifice themselves for others, even people not usually accustomed to doing so? This is the truth of the Cross which is woven into the very fabric of reality and human nature: true love is sacrificial, it is self-giving, and in a sinful world, this means that we must “love until it hurts,” as St. Teresa of Calcutta was fond of saying; true love is not merely a feeling, much less a kind of humanitarian benevolence acting from wealth, but a humble childlike gift of what God has given us, recognizing that all of our blessings are given so that we may give them to others in love, like the widow who gave even her last coin in charity. (Mk 12:41-43) In the paradox of Christian discipleship, humble service and childlike innocence are the standards for the greatness which the apostles pridefully contended for in today’s Gospel reading. True freedom is this gift of love, one not based on need or greed, not for the approval of others or our own “selfish ambitions,” as St. James described them, but in imitation of the love of Christ, who told us, “as I have loved you, that you also love one another.” (Jn 13:34) And how did He love us? “unto the end.” (Jn 13:1) Unto the Cross.
It is true. But how do you do that or what could impel you to do that?