A homeless man sleeping in Bogotá
The Gospel readings for the first three Sundays of Lent, while being so diverse, have something in common: they all reflect the vulnerability of Jesus.
On the first Sunday, in the account of the temptations according to Matthew, we saw Jesus in the desert, alone, and we were told that (as he would have happened to anyone) he was hungry. It is this very human and needy Jesus who is tempted by the devil, and this same Jesus in need who is finally served by the angels (an image of all those who, throughout their lives, helped Jesus in one way or another).
The Transfiguration, which we read on the second Sunday of Lent, expresses the willingness of Jesus to show himself with absolute clarity before his disciples, without hiding anything, without deceit, that is, without pretending to be strong, powerful, or convinced of his impending triumph. No, what he wants to reveal on the mount is precisely that in Jerusalem he will not be applauded and crowned but booed and crucified. And it is that Jesus who will fail, vulnerable, who they must listen to.
The dialogue of Jesus with the Samaritan woman, which we read this past Sunday (the third of Lent), begins with Jesus sitting under the scorching midday sun, tired and thirsty. The conversation begins with something as basic and human as his request that the woman, who has a bucket, give him a glass of water. Jesus does not try to impress the Samaritan woman with a display of strength, or with his wisdom, he does not want to dazzle her by naming his accomplishments. On the contrary, he appears fragile: «I am thirsty. Could you give me a drink?».
For some, a vulnerable Jesus may be uncomfortable, even unacceptable. If what we are looking for in faith are securities, absolute certainties and solid truths, a fragile Jesus is of no use to us. We would prefer him to be powerful and invulnerable, self-sufficient, overconfident.
And yet, if we think about it, we will quickly realize that the vulnerable Jesus of the gospels is, in fact, the best news we could receive.
Why?
Because Jesus’ vulnerability invites us not to be ashamed of our own vulnerability. Even more, it invites us to embrace our need of others with joy, because in the vulnerability of Jesus we discover a call to fraternity. Just like Jesus, we realize that without others (without their help, support, advice, affection...) we will not go very far in life. Those who decide to imitate the vulnerable Jesus welcome joyfully their condition as needy people because they discover that this very condition saves them from the worst of hells: the hell of self-sufficiency, which always isolates, impoverishes, and poisons people. The vulnerable Jesus is good news because it is the strongest affirmation we can think of that, ultimately, no one can pretend to be self-sufficient and be happy.
In the need that Jesus experiences of others, we discover that we need each other, and that this need, far from being a problem, paves the way for fraternity and communion, which are the only places where people can experience true joy.
