Do you know my name?

Whatever our next step in life, our Lord is with us.

Bishop Edward B. Scharfenberger

“Immediately! If not sooner!” That’s pretty much the definition of a “New York minute,” if you ever heard that term. Many of us live in that kind of time zone, whether we realize it or not. So many demands. So much pressure. As a parent with a sick child, a teacher completing a lesson plan, a student having to get a paper in — and, by the way, congratulations if you are finally graduating! — or a priest or deacon trying to get the final touches on that sermon, whatever deadline we may be under (ultimately death itself!) we all have to face that reckoning. There is that point at which we must realize that we have to take the next step. We cannot stay exactly where we are. It’s time to land the plane.

Not every day do we find ourselves in a desperate situation, at our wits end. Yet at some point it happens to us all. We have to make a choice. We know it happened to the apostles, to the saints and to the martyrs, even to Jesus himself. In the Garden of Gethsemane, a place suggestively similar to another garden where temptation first faced the human race and where our first parents strayed from the way, Jesus also is tempted to abandon his mission. No mention is made of Satan in the scriptural accounts, although we can be sure the Evil One is there, taking advantage of the weakness of Jesus as he faces his final step, to take up that cross and to die for us.

How ironic! The weakness is not a physical one. In fact, Jesus was at the prime of his manhood. By all indications, he was a very strong person, humanly speaking. Recently, I have been reflecting on how Jesus developed as a man. Those hidden years of his life when, after that one incident in the temple, just before his bar mitzvah or “coming of age” at 13, his distraught parents had finally found him in the temple after looking for him for three days (Lk 2:41-52). Luke is the only evangelist who records that incident. Tradition has it that Luke had a close relationship with Mary, who may well have been the source of much of his material. His infancy narrative is the most comprehensive. Yet neither his nor any of the Gospels account for the life of Jesus between that incident and his re-emergence on the scene at about the age of 30. What was happening over those 18 years?

We are told, indirectly, that Jesus may have been a carpenter. He is referred to, by his petulant relatives and neighbors as, “the carpenter’s son” (Mk 6:3, Mt 13:55). The Greek word for this trade is “tekton.” It means something more than a person who works with wood. In fact, there was little wood around in Nazareth, where Jesus grew up, to work with. Most of the living quarters were made of stone. What wood there was most probably ended up in the fireplace, for warming or cooking. Not many people were living in the town either so it is likely that Jesus and his dad had to look for work outside the town.

The Romans, who occupied the territory, were great builders and they were constructing several other towns in the area called the “dekapolis,” the region of the “10 cities.” Sepphoris, which was under construction, was a little under four miles to the north-northwest of Nazareth. Today it is an archaeological dig and has not survived as a significant domestic or commercial site but in its time it must have been quite a draw, industrially and culturally speaking, and certainly when it was being built. It is possible that Jesus was involved in that construction project. Did he commute to work?

We can imagine that the trade Joseph may have trained him in was vigorous and required a lot of stamina. Construction workers, as we understand them today, carry heavy materials and are known to be very resourceful in their management of materials. We can assume that Jesus and his dad did more than carve out little stools and wooden rocking horses. My point is that Jesus in the garden, about to take “the next step” was in his prime, strong and with “everything to live for” as we might say. And now he is asking the Father to spare him this “cup,” the suffering and death that he will undergo (Mt 26:39, Lk 22:42).

Why me? Why now? These are questions that come to all of us at least some point in our lives. And such questions may surface when everything seems to have been going in one direction and the next step up was so promising. Then the unexpected. A change in health. Loss of a job or position. An unexpected pregnancy. A new relationship comes into our life, presenting complications. A storm whips up and we face challenge and confusion.

The experience of graduation, which many of our young people are celebrating this month, can be both joyous and intimidating. On the one hand, there is so much to be thankful for, so much to reflect on and to enjoy. The rewards of all of the hard work. The day has finally arrived. On the other hand, as the name “commencement” implies, it is only the beginning, the next step of a whole new venture, however clear that may or may not be. The next school, if that is on the horizon, is really only a name right now. The new job or position, if that is something that has been secured, has not yet been tried out. So much is unknown. Yet, of one thing we can be sure, our Lord knows our name and is calling us to reach out to him and not to be afraid. Whatever our next step, he is with us. We are not alone.

The subject of “vocation” or “calling” is very much a question at those points in our lives, where a “next step” must be taken, to a certain or less certain tomorrow. Whether it comes as a surprise or it seems the next, most natural thing to do, our name is being called. We may not hear it with our physical ears, but there is no mistaking that our name is being called. And it is not just by some inner compass, but a source outside ourselves. Resist though we might, we cannot ignore it. We must take that step. My prayer is that all of our graduates may hear that call, whatever it may be, and know that there is a loving God who knows them and loves them intimately and is calling them by name. I also hope that any one who may be facing questions about “what now,” or “how can I go on” may trust that they are not alone. Jesus faced his cross. He is here now to help us take up our own. Yes, he knows my name. 

 @AlbanyDiocese