Loved — first, last and always
In today’s Gospel, while Mary Magdalene is the first to the tomb, it then turns into a bit of a footrace between Peter and “the other disciple whom Jesus loved.” The latter arrives at the tomb first, but Peter enters before he does.
We all want to be first, don’t we? And we definitely want to be the one Jesus loved. I know I do! Scripture scholars are divided on the identity of the beloved disciple, and maybe the mystery is the point. Because it can be difficult for us to comprehend that God — who is, most days, let’s face it, quite busy with the mess we humans have made of the world — truly loves each one of us for our own selves, completely and fully. Just imagine that. It’s not easy, is it? Many of us have an ingrained negative feedback loop always running in the backs of our minds, providing critical, unhelpful commentary that diminishes how absolutely unique and special we truly are.
The disciples’ desire to be first and to be loved reminds me of something that happened when my father was dying. I had been sitting at his hospital bedside for several hours — my siblings and I took turns — and was leaving for the night. I kissed his cheek, and he took my hand, gazing at me with such pure parental love it made me gasp. And then it hit me: I’m dad’s favorite — I can’t believe it! (First to the tomb, that’s me!)
The thought of it today makes me laugh, because some time after he died, I mentioned it to my three sisters; each admitted to having had the same experience. We all parted with our father believing he loved us best. And he did, and he loved our brothers best, too.
This Christmas season, let’s try to remember how beloved we are and to remind others of it, too, whether they are family, friends of clients of Catholic Charities who come to our agencies for services. There is no shortage of people who need to be told, in ways large and small, that they are loved — first, last and always.
Julie Bourbon is the senior writer at CCUSA. She wrote this reflection in the glow of her lit Christmas tree, with a purring cat on her lap (which made typing difficult).