Daily Gospel Reflections

Today’s Scripture Readings
Luke 9:18‐22
Once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him, he asked them, ‘Who do the crowds say that I am?’ They answered, ‘John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen.’ He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Peter answered, ‘The Messiah of God.’
Jesus Foretells His Death and Resurrection
He sternly ordered and commanded them not to tell anyone, saying, ‘The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.’

Reflection
The real Good News
‘…and on the third day be raised’ (Luke 9:22)
There is a deliberate contrast in this gospel between Jesus’ identification as the Messiah and his prediction of his suffering and death. Jesus moves quickly to dispel any notion that he brings an easy good news message of triumph over enemies: no, the way of salvation takes the road to Golgotha, and there is no avoiding the cross.
This is a deep truth of the faith, one that is deeply ingrained in our Catholic identity. And it’s right that we remember what Jesus suffered for our sake, as long as we also remember not to stop there. For Jesus didn’t come among us for the sole purpose of dying, as though suffering and death have some intrinsic value on their own. No, God is ultimately about life, not death. It was our actions, our intractable propensity to victimise and persecute, that made the cross inevitable, not some demand on God’s part.
And this points to a deeper truth of the faith than even the cross. The real contrast is not between a false good news of a conquering Messiah and the stark reality of crucifixion: it’s between a false understanding of salvation that sees violence as a solution and the true Gospel, the truly Good News, which has the last word in today’s passage; the promise of the resurrection.
Our challenge is to live not as grim stoics, but in the joy of the resurrection, even in the face of suffering. What does it mean for us to live in such a manner that even death is radically relativised—no longer having the last word? How might this change the way that we treat other people today, if we genuinely believed that the joy set before us overcomes our resentments, our griefs, our fears?

