When I was 4, I told my mother that I was running away and would never come back. She replied that any child of hers who ran away and never came back would receive a punishment she/he would never forget. Well, that was enough for me! (Logic was not my strong suit at that age.) At the same time, her dealings with us made it obvious that no child of hers could quash her motherly love — no matter what we did.

Today, Jeremiah gives us an image of a motherly God who wants nothing to do with punishment. When the people break their covenant with the God who freed them, what does God do? God turns to them to offer a better deal than they had known before. 

God had brought them out of Egypt; when they were unfaithful, God said, "I will make a new covenant with you. This covenant will join us heart to heart. It will affect you so deeply that our mutual love will teach the world all they need to know about me."

Ours is a God who gambles on love — over and over again.

In today's Gospel, Jesus explains the same dynamic in relation to his life and mission. As he did in predicting his passion (see Mark 8: 31-38 and its eight parallels), Jesus revealed that, as God's representative, he would prove the boundless power of love through vulnerability, becoming like a seed that falls to the ground and dies in order to produce fruit. 

The most Godly thing about Jesus' vulnerability was that, unlike our own weakness and limitations, it was freely chosen (John 10:18). The most amazing thing about it was that it revealed the true character of God as a divine lover who constantly tries to woo us beyond our broken covenants and our attempts to fashion the divine in our own image.

Today, we hear from the Letter to the Hebrews, a work that seems to have been a long sermon (a synagogue "message of encouragement") slightly revised to function like a letter. Who wrote this letter is a mystery, but some scholars suggest that it was Priscilla, the woman who, along with her husband Aquila, collaborated with Paul and continued his ministry. In that case, it may be the only New Testament work (and recorded synagogue sermon) written by a woman.

The Letter to the Hebrews aims to strengthen a community under persecution and in danger of denying their faith. Today's selection emphasizes Christ's complete solidarity with us in all things and it highlights his example for those undergoing temptation. The author carefully explains that Christ himself suffered and cried out to "the one who was able to save him from death." 

She goes on to say, "He was heard. ... Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered." We might note that although he cried out to the one who could save him, evil forces ultimately succeeded in killing him.

Hebrews tells us that Jesus himself went through a process of growth in union with God; he had to learn to trust beyond reasonable hope in order to experience what God could do in and for him. His faithfulness to God's call, his reliance on love over all else, opened him to the unimaginable future of resurrected/eternal life. In that, he revealed God's glory, the power of God to bring life out of death. 

From Jesus, we learn that divine power is the most subversive force in all of creation. Rather than crush opponents, God's power undermines evil and the violence it perpetrates. As Mahatma Gandhi explained, "Love is the strongest force the world possesses, yet it is the humblest imaginable."

Ultimately, the greatest leap of faith Christians are invited to take is to believe in this entirely counterintuitive and countercultural idea that the forces of humility, generous love, and tender, nonviolent creativity are the instruments of world change. This is Jesus' message. He taught that falling into the ground and dying lead to ousting the ruler of this world. 

Christ's ongoing offer is to draw everything to himself. To believe that is to have faith that when the forces of evil unleash their worst, they ultimately expose themselves impotent against love. 

As we draw near Holy Week, our liturgy invites us to reassess the creed we really live by. 

Do we look to Christ to be delivered from punishment or harm? If so, what does the cross tell us about that? Are we willing to gamble everything on the power of love? To the extent that we choose the latter, we are on our way to being drawn into the very heart of a motherly God.

Why does God let it happen? We might be talking about the death of a child, an unjust war, the loss of young people to gang life, or even a tornado or flood. 

Some people blame God and then decide to give up on believing, concluding that God is either unkind or untrustworthy. Others are convinced that tragedy is a punishment, even if they can't name the offense. Still others defend God with justifying explanations like "We can't understand the divine ways," or "Somehow it's for the best." 

Innocent suffering is one of the most serious problems religions have had to face over the eons and across the globe.

Today's first reading seems to say that Israel's exile in Babylon was a punishment for their adding "infidelity to infidelity." We also hear that the compassionate Lord sent messengers to the people, but that those messengers were mocked and their message ignored. As a result, the people were conquered, their city sacked and the survivors made slaves.

Did God do that?

In the Gospel, we listen in as Jesus and Nicodemus converse. When Jesus says that the Son of Man will be lifted up so that all who see him will have eternal life, the "lifting up," refers to the cross and resurrection as one event of divine self-revelation.

While that may seem obvious, we shouldn't think the same of the expression "eternal life." It's easy to assume that "eternal life" refers to immortality or heaven, but the New American Bible tells us that the term in John 3:15 stresses quality of life rather than duration."

Spanish Scripture scholar José Antonio Pagola tells us that the eternal life Jesus promises begins in this life and reaches its fullness in our definitive encounter with God. That means that eternal life is nothing less than union with God.

Writing to the Ephesians, Paul falls all over himself in trying to explain his sense of this communion. In this short selection, Paul mentions grace three times, insisting over and again that we are saved through grace, that is, through God's favor rather than any merit of our own. 

This grace comes from God, whom Paul describes as rich in mercy, immeasurably giving and great in loving. These teachings about God's grace lead to his conclusion that we are God's own handiwork, created for union with Christ and to continue his work. 

How do these ideas help us to reflect on the existence of a good God and a world in which unspeakable evil seems to run rampant?

Before we can respond, we need to examine the question itself. This question assumes that God intervenes directly in the events of history. Is that not one of our many assumptions that has more to do with our theories than with what Jesus revealed about his Father? Yes, Jesus taught that not a sparrow would fall without God's awareness, but that awareness does not prevent the fall of the sparrow. 

Jesus told Nicodemus that God has no intention of punishing anyone, rather God looks to saving by drawing people into the communion of eternal life.

Following that, Jesus' being "lifted up," had nothing to do with condemnation or compensation for human evil. Instead, it exposed God's loving solidarity with all who suffer and revealed that suffering and evil will never have the last word. 

Paul ended his description of God and grace by saying that we are created in Christ Jesus to continue his good works. If God could do it all, there would be no need for our good works. But the Incarnation itself revealed that God works through human flesh, here now as the body of Christ throughout the world.

Our first reading tells us that God sends messengers "early and often." We have had the prophets, Jesus, the saints and all who strive to be the body of Christ in our world. What happens to them? Like Jesus, they are often mocked, and scoffed at — even assassinated. What does this teach us?

Jesus said that he was sent into the world so that all who believe could enjoy not a life free of suffering, but communion with God (eternal life). Jesus died in faithfulness to his vocation to embody God's love in the world. He was slain because the love of God threatened the powers such that they tried to eliminate him. In that most evil of circumstances, God did not stop it, but brought life out of death.

God created, not to control us, but to entice us toward communion. If we believe that God works through us, instead of asking "Why does God let it happen?," the prophetic question is, "How can people who believe in God and the power of love let it happen?" 

Looking to Jesus, we know where the answer can lead.