There is a short story that was written at the beginning of the 20th century by D.H. Lawrence called “Odour of Chysanthemums.” It is about a small mining town in England. The story begins with the main character, Lizzie, waiting for her husband, John, to come back from working in the mines. When he does not get off the train she becomes bitter and remorseful. Her husband has a problem with alcohol, and it is not the first time he has not come home immediately after work. Especially on payday, he goes right to the pub, and makes it home much later if he is able to come back by his own power.
With bitterness, Lizzie reflects that he will not be home tonight until they come carrying him home. Tragically, she is correct. As the story unfolds we hear about a terrible accident that has happened in the mines. The shaft had collapsed, trapping underground several of the men. They had run out of air before they could be reached. John’s lifeless body comes home, as Lizzie had predicted, being carried by his colleagues from the mines.
As they bring him into the house, John’s mother is there, as well. She is also devastated, and offers to help clean up the body, which is covered in coal, filth and grime. Both women are surprised to see how terribly beautiful his countenance is as they clear off the dirt. John’s mother says, “He went peaceful, Lizzie—peaceful as sleep. Isn’t he beautiful, the lamb?” Perhaps acknowledging all the pain he would have caused the family, the mother begins to explain that he must have had time to make his peace with God; he is her beautiful lamb and “he wouldn’t look like this if he hadn’t made his peace.”
The two women continue to wash the body when Lizzie becomes increasingly more uncomfortable and even disturbed. She suddenly begins to reflect to herself:
“Who am I? What have I been doing? I have been fighting a husband that did not exist. He existed all the time. What wrong have I done? What was that I have been living with? There lies the reality, this man.”
The narrator relates, chillingly, “And her soul died in her for fear: she knew she had never seen him, he had never seen her, they had met in the dark and had fought in the dark, not knowing whom they met nor whom they fought. And now she saw, and turned silent in seeing. For she had been wrong. She had said he was something he was not.”
It is only when she begins to care for the body of her husband that Lizzie discovers not only his beauty and depth, but also essential things about herself. Some of those things are challenging and disturbing, but they are important for her to know and understand the truth.
The passion narrative that we listen to this weekend from St. Mark’s gospel is replete with references to the body of Jesus Christ. As the narrative begins, we hear about the woman who came to Bethany to anoint the body of Christ in preparation for His burial. In that act of generous love she comes to understand the depths of the love God has for her, that He will literally die for her. Hence she comes to realize her own great worth and dignity in Christ.
At the Last Supper, Christ will give His body and blood to the Apostles as a total offering of love, helping them to see how very much He wills that they be united to Him and in Him. They will never know themselves more completely than they will in that Blessed Sacrament.
Sadly it is the soldiers who fail to recognize the dignity they have been given and instead abuse the body of our Lord. They spit upon Him, mock Him and scourge His body, seeing only its objective weakness. They crucify the body of Christ and fail to see the very offering He is making for their salvation.
Joseph of Arimathea will lovingly seek to acquire the body of Christ and tenderly prepare it for burial, while Mary Magdalene will refuse to take her eyes off the body as she studies the place where Christ is buried. She will be the first to see the risen body of Jesus Christ on Easter Sunday.
Care for the body of Jesus Christ changes us. We come to discover our own dignity, our own beauty when we truly appreciate and lovingly attach ourselves to Him. In this Holy Week we seek to come to know Christ more deeply in the Blessed Sacrament on the altar and also in the depths of prayer and adoration, hoping to become more appreciative of all that God has created us for.
Care for the Body of Christ, of course, also means care and concern for His body, the Church. Sometimes that can be the easiest and most natural thing in the world. Sometimes it can be a tremendous challenge. In particular, when we consider the sexual abuse crisis in the Church, or the financial crises that have rocked the Church in recent times, we can be tempted to become discouraged or cynical about the body of Christ. Perhaps because of the personal situations we may have faced, when we were hurt or disappointed by the actions or words of other members of the Church, we may find it difficult to have the same love for the Church that we have for Jesus.
Like Lizzie, we are called to care for the body of Christ and to do everything in our power to make it beautiful. By our prayer and works of penance we plead with God to purify His body and His bride, as He certainly does in His passion. Christ challenges us this Passion Sunday to raise the bar, to love Him and to love the Church in a passionate and selfless way. When we do, we come to discover our own dignity and the beauty that He has created us for from the beginning.
