by Fr. Jean-Marc Laporte, SJ
In his earthly life Jesus was a man of relationships, principally with his Father, but also with his disciples, with those persons he sought out, and with those who came to him for help. At times he reacted very quickly, but at other times he was a paragon of patience. Many liturgical texts of Lent speak to me of that patience, which attracts me. Still, I must fight the opposite tendency in me — influenced by the world we live in — to get things done quickly. They are removed from my to-do list, but quickly I see my to-do list fill up again. I still need the grace of waiting, of taking my time, of patience.
The main Lenten text that speaks to me of patience deals with the second temptation of Jesus in the desert. He is on the pinnacle of the temple. Satan tempts him. There is a better way for him than spending time with a few disciples, winning them over to his cause and gradually schooling them in his ways. If he were to jump off the pinnacle, the angels of God would make sure that he is unharmed. This miracle would make him an instant a hero acclaimed by a large crowd. But today’s heroes are fragile. Tomorrow they can and will be cast aside. Difficulties and distractions will emerge, and the crowd will look for another hero. As we know from the end of Jesus’ life, the acclaim of Jesus with palms would soon change to rejection. Not Jesus but Barabbas!
Immediately Jesus said no to Satan. Following the rhythms of human time, he would win over the hearts of his disciples, transforming them for their mission to come. He would face profound misunderstandings and frustrations, but he would keep at his difficult task, with slow and gradual results. There would be failures, including the failure of the cross, but in the end these failures would end up being a triumph, above all the cross.
Haste rather than patience is a prevalent feature of our world, which is whirling around faster and faster but getting nowhere fast. How many cars must be recalled because the company could not overcome the urge to rush them to market? How many trumpeted advances in software are buggy and overly complicated? How often do our political leaders fail to see anything beyond the prospects of their reelection, with disastrous long-term results? Why is it that I feel more secure living in a 100-year-old house than in a 20-year-old one? And so on. Shoddiness and premature obsolescence are the order of our day.
Lent bids us to be patient with ourselves and with others, to let things gradually unfold rather than forcing them, knowing that God is the supreme artisan at work in our own actions. There are times for us to take the time to do something beautiful, authentic and lasting: a mission that will bring people together, a treasured friendship, a new equilibrium in our own lives. Lent is a time for us to slow down, to follow the pace of Jesus and to find rebirth.
