The Cornerstone: Amazing in Our Eyes

Easter joy. In my modest childhood home, Easter Sunday was a revered day, beginning with a small Easter basket containing plastic, stringy green grass, a cheap and endearing toy, a few chocolates and those big, fat jelly beans that fell to the bottom and hid. And I proudly put on a new, handmade Easter dress that my mom had sewn for me. I picked out the material weeks before and I’d watch as she cut out the pattern and sew it on the old black Singer with one unadorned stitch, piece by piece. It was her joy to make it and my delight to wear it. Easter morning Mass (well, noon Mass as the lot of us could not possibly make it before then) was special and not only because I wore my new dress, already with a chocolate stain, and ruffled white ankle socks. Arriving at Mass before the Gospel reading was never possible, given our mishandling of time. The 8-12 of us (depending on who was home visiting) normally sat in the one empty pew toward the front, not able to “sneak” in unnoticed, even on Easter Sunday. Despite this, we knew the day was set apart from any regular Sunday. This was the beginning of the kerygma, a Greek word that describes the way that the first apostles proclaimed the Good News, the paschal mystery, of Jesus Christ. Words like “salvation” and “hope” and “new life” resounded in the liturgy. I listened to the story of Mary Magdalene finding the empty tomb and hearing Jesus, her Teacher and Friend, say her name – “Mary!” (John 20:16) She was the first witness of the resurrection and proclaimed, “I have seen the Lord,” (John 20:18) as an apostle to the apostles. Mary Magdalene was the first to welcome and share the kerygma, the Good News, to the disciples who would then go forth to spread the Good News throughout the world.

Easter resurrection. Jesus was raised from the dead. Every year we were transformed a bit by the retelling of this paschal mystery, this movement of Jesus’ life to death to risen life. We were told that we could see with new eyes. Easter eyes.* Eyes that see the hope of life following the death and resurrection of Jesus. Eyes that see the sacredness of life in everyday things. Now, I wonder if this new way of seeing reality connects me with those first apostles. And, if so, what difference does that make in my life? At the beginning of Lent, the Church emphasizes that it is the time to turn back to God (metanoia), to not just give a sideways glance and a nod, but to truly turn back toward the God who longs for our return, to shower us with mercy and love (just like the Father in the parable of the Prodigal Son). At Easter, if we have made a move toward God, hope and joy fills us.

It is in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the paschal mystery, that we now stand and live and hope. Jesus’ life led to his death. We must remember his life, his words, his teachings so we can better understand what followed: Jesus’ suffering, death and resurrection. The truth-telling of history matters. Without it, we lose the wisdom and essential truths that can help us to transcend and grow. While I think we remember well the suffering and death of Jesus, I wonder if we now hear his teachings free from misguided ideas, thoughts, politics, or ideologies. It takes effort, I think, and God’s help to hear the kerygma and to see with Easter eyes.

The Parable of the Vineyard (Mark 12:1-12; Matthew 21:33-46; Luke 20:9-19)

When Jesus taught the Parable of the Vineyard, he made the claim that the political and religious leaders of his time rejected him and thereby rejected God who sent him. As the owner (God) of the vineyard (all of Israel), he went on a long journey and leased it to the tenants

(political and religious leaders). The owner sent emissaries (the prophets and finally, his own beloved son) thinking surely they would not mistreat his son (Jesus). But with each visit to collect what was due the owner, the tenants beat and killed every emissary, including the beloved son. Jesus spoke of his own death by these leaders who rejected what Jesus said and did.

After telling this parable, Jesus goes on to say, “What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others. Have you not read this scripture: ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’?” (bold my own)

You see, the political and religious leaders of Jesus’ day rejected him and put him to death on a cross. I believe that until we, today, reckon with why this happened then and still happens now (because even today Jesus is rejected), we will never grasp fully the idea of Jesus as the cornerstone upon which all of God’s truth, the kerygma as proclaimed by the first apostles, rests. If we claim to be disciples of Christ today, we are called to reveal this truth to all peoples throughout the world. Understanding Jesus as the cornerstone rejected by the builders, then, bears importance.

Jesus was rejected by political and religious leaders in his time. Why, do you think? While he did not preach power, domination, superiority, or seek to reign, he also was not the expected messiah to liberate all of Israel from Roman rule. He did not promote violence, vengeance or retribution. Instead, Jesus ennobled mercy, forgiveness, humility, compassion, and love that frees us from our inner turmoil and strife. Jesus preached a gospel that questioned the status quo and turned the teachings of the religious leaders on its head. He represented weakness to some and danger to others. He made many people, including the religious leaders, uncomfortable and angry by recasting the Law of Moses, emphasizing instead a greater law that had surpassed it. He showed us how to love the Lord, our God with undivided and whole hearts. He taught us to love our neighbors as ourselves, treating them as our brothers and sisters. I suggest that Jesus continues to make us uncomfortable by challenging how we listen and how we see. When I forget the truth of the Gospel that clearly shows us a path of mercy and love instead of domination and power, I am not listening or seeing Jesus very well. To see with Easter eyes, I am humbled by God’s outrageous vision of love that supersedes everything our society values. I must ask myself: do I want to be transformed? I’m not certain that everyone would say yes.

The stone the builders rejected...the builders are those who believe that they know how to build God’s kingdom, but really don’t understand Jesus’ core message of mercy and love that requires a response that leads to transformation. The builders miss the essential truths of the kerygma, forgetting that the apostles first proclaimed Christ crucified and salvation for all who believe. St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God’s foolishness is wiser, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength” (1 Cor 1:23-25). This kerygma, as expressed by St. Paul, gives a

clue to the rejection Jesus faced by the political and religious leaders of his day. Christ’s perceived weakness, as the world sees it, is actually God’s strength and what became the cornerstone.

Reckoning with Rejection

In the spring of my sixth grade year, two of my best friends impulsively decided to make a pact to bully me for the remaining two months of school. Beginning at another friend’s slumber party, Yvette and Tammy decided to mimic and tease me unrelentingly. Stuck at the party, I endured several hours of rejection and torment. In their cruelty, these girls continued to bully me at school recess and in hallways until summer break. I never knew what triggered this change. I only knew that I was determined not to be the victim ever again. At the start of junior high, in a new school without these same girls, I sought out the cool crowd with the money and popularity, even though I possessed neither. As a result, in an ironic turn of events, I turned my back on and rejected my own childhood friend, Tanya. She was devoted and loving, very smart and funny. My priorities, as they were, prevented me from including her in my quest for belonging with the “in” crowd. I remember walking past her with my new popular friends as she sat alone at the wall reading a book. I didn’t even acknowledge her existence. The rejected victim had become the rejector, the mean girl, and I didn’t turn back for months. Meanwhile, Tanya met and found a sweet group of girlfriends. I found myself jealous that I wasn’t a part of it. I did everything I could to reach out and befriend them. Later, I was humbled by Tanya’s acceptance of me again into her circle of friends.

Not only was I rejected by others but I then rejected another. What I perceived as weakness (myself and my dear friend, Tanya) was ultimately one of the most important friendships of my childhood. And what I perceived as strength (hanging out with the wealthy, popular group), was indeed shallow and weak. Tanya’s friendship and unpopularity was the stone that I rejected which eventually, through my conversion, became a cornerstone in my life.

One powerful example of a well-known person in history who was, at first rejected, was the prophetic Rev. Desmond Tutu (d. 2021). He was a South African Anglican Bishop and theologian who spoke out and led efforts to end apartheid. He promoted non-violent means, much like Mahatma Gandhi and the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., to draw national as well as international attention to the plight and suffering of the non-white majority in South Africa in the 1960s-1980s. His work came under intense scrutiny by the white minority government leaders who desired that land ownership, job opportunities and economic status be tightly controlled by the minority white population. As an advocate for the voiceless and an undeterred leader, Rev. Tutu helped to end apartheid in the early 1990s by organizing non-violent protests, inspiring the outside world to impose economic sanctions, and promoting love and reconciliation. These methods of perceived weakness by many became the strength of the South African community. Rev. Desmond Tutu was known to say, “We are each made for goodness, love and compassion. Our lives are transformed as much as the world is when we live with these truths.” Rev. Tutu proclaimed the Good News, spreading the kerygma, in his work for justice and many now see

the injustice of apartheid with Easter eyes. In addition, he taught us all to encounter one another in a new way, with the eyes of love and compassion.

The Cornerstone of Our Lives

If we believe that Jesus is the cornerstone, the source of the kerygma and we embrace this Good News, we too become the stone that the builders rejected. We become like Jesus, letting go of power and prestige, and in so doing we build a community of faith. For example, it is in my realization that powerful and popular aren’t the way of true happiness and self-awareness, that I can look at my 12-year-old self and understand her, but lead her forward into a life of hope and love. My friendship with Tanya stays part of the cornerstone, continuing to teach me lessons of acceptance as I embrace our shared memories. Rev. Desmond Tutu built a community of faith based on the truth that all people, as children of the same God, have the same dignity regardless of color of skin. Darker skin does not make a person lesser or weaker than those with lighter skin. All belong in the cornerstone, along with Jesus, though rejected by some.

The kerygma, the Good News as proclaimed by the apostles, also calls us to encounter one another. Pope Francis, in an address in January of 2021, spoke to teachers of the faith. His words, I find, really apply to all of us. He said, “We must not be afraid to speak the language of the people. We must not be afraid to listen to their questions, whatever they may be, to their unresolved issues, to listen to their frailties, their uncertainties....This is the time to be the artisans of the open communities that know how to value the talents of each person. It is a time for...missionary communities which...walk the paths of the people of our time, stooping to tend to those on the margins. It is a time for communities that look disappointed young people in the eye, that welcome strangers and give hope to the disheartened. It is a time for communities that, like the Good Samaritan, dialogue with those with different ideas. It is a time for communities that, like the Good Samaritan, know how to approach those wounded by life, to bind their wounds with compassion.... I want a church ever closer to the abandoned, the forgotten, the imperfect.”**

Pope Francis envisions a church that is inclusive of those rejected by others, by society, by the rich and powerful, the elite, the “Christians” of our day, even by you and me. Who are those rejected? We only have to read the headlines, listen to the news, words from politicians, even some church leaders who spew division, refuse to reckon with the pain of the past, target certain groups as if they didn’t matter. May we learn to “stoop to tend to those on the margins” because they comprise the cornerstone of our faith, the kerygma that teaches that Jesus lived, suffered, died and rose from the dead. Because the religious leaders of Jesus’ day would never “stoop” to, for example, wash the feet of anyone, they demonstrated their lack of understanding of Jesus’ message of service. In response to Jesus, they rejected his teachings enough to put him to death.

How can I realize that I am also a piece of this cornerstone, rejected by the master builders, but used by God to build our community of faith? I can realize this when I stand, true and sincere, stripped of my pride, my power, my control, but accepting of the weaknesses in myself as well

as in others. When I can look into the eyes of the poor, the powerless, the undeserving, really anyone who makes me uncomfortable, and see they are a part of the cornerstone. And, finally, when I can look at myself in the mirror as a woman of faith and hope and dream of a day when our church community can embrace the gifts of women in every role, realizing that we, too, fully image Christ as disciples.

Until we acknowledge how we reject ourselves and others with all honesty and truthfulness, the beloved community of faith, dreamed of by Pope Francis will evade us. Sister Ilia Delio, a Franciscan Sister, scientist and theologian, encourages us to look with “Easter eyes” at the world, at our relationships, and even at the delicate buttercup blooming in our backyard. She wrote, “What binds all life together? Teilhard [de Chardin, the famous Jesuit scientist] said that love forms the physical structure of the universe; love is the core energy of cosmic life. Love unites and draws observer and observed into a union of life, open to new life. Only a God of everlasting love could do something this crazy. Only a God drunk with love, as the Pseudo-Dionysius*** wrote, could relinquish the power of divinity and become small and fragile in a tiny, yellow flower. It is this letting go of divine power that allows God to dwell in unexpected places, empowering every aspect of life to become something more in love, showing us that frail, fragile and weak matter has the power to be transformed into something eternal. ‘There is nothing profane below,’ Teilhard wrote, ‘for those who know how to see.’”* We all can be part of this cosmic flow by loving God with whole and undivided hearts and loving all others as we love ourselves. Easter eyes, just as Sr. Ilia describes, help us to be aware of this divine love in even the smallest of flowers. How much more can we see God’s presence in the person we least expect?

May we take the time, with the hope of the resurrection and new life, to contemplate how to remain a part of this cornerstone, ever open to the transforming love of God who is unafraid to be small. May we learn not to reject weakness but to see in all things the potential to transform into something eternal. Just as Jesus’ strength was not of this world, may we understand more fully the power of weakness.


Call to Action: Take some time to contemplate how you can see something you might otherwise reject with Easter eyes. In the comments below, describe how Easter eyes can help change your perspective of yourself, others or the world.


Song for Contemplation: “Morning Has Broken,” written by Eleanor Farjeon & Rick Wakeman, performed by Cat Stevens (1971)

Blog Notes:

*”Easter eyes” refers to an article written by Sr. Ilia Delio, a member of the Franciscan Sisters of Washington, D.C., scientist, theologian and author of 16 books. Sr. Ilia teaches at Villanova University. “Looking at a buttercup through Easter eyes,” published by National Catholic Reporter (https://www.ncronline.org), Apr 16, 2022. Read entire article at https://www.ncronline.org/news/opinion/soul-seeing/looking-buttercup-through-easter-eyes

**Address of His Holiness Pope Francis to Participants in the Meeting Promoted by the National Catechetical Office of the Italian Episcopal Conference. Sala Clementina, 30 Jan. 2021. Read entire speech at https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/speeches/2021/january/documents/papa-francesco_20210130_ufficio-catechistico-cei.html

***Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite was a Greek author and Christian theologian in the 5th and 6th centuries.

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