In Ancient Greece, thousands flock nightly to the theatre to see a tragedy play. Tragedy plays have a formula: our hero suffers dangers immensely disproportionate to his human faults. Unaffected gods are lowered from a platform chained to the roof called the deus ex machina. They either assist or inflict further suffering on him. These plays were designed to evoke pathos—pity and fear—among the audience, encouraging them to experience these emotions in the safety of the auditorium, thereby “purging” them of these negative feelings in what is supposed to be a “cathartic” moment.
Katharo in Greek means pure, innocent. This is the word Jesus used on the Mount when He said: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Now katha happens to be our word for something created. Is it any wonder that it is our Creator God who cleanses and purifies us? Jesus Christ, however, wasn’t lowered from a deus ex machina. He became one of His katha to purge us from sin. Greek plays were repeated in week-long festivals to provide audiences with more opportunities to purge themselves of their pathos. Our Creator Jesus saved us once and for all. Because of what He did, I already am made pure. He did the hard work for me. All I need to do is to stick with God. The Bible says “If we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.”
I was writing one afternoon when the sky grew grim and grey. Lightning flashed and rolls of thunder exchanged their cosmic banter, like actors delivering their dialogue on cue. Rain fell down faster than Metro Manila’s drainage systems can usher them toward the Pasig River. The weather can be more dramatic than any Greek tragedy.
I got my umbrella and immediately went to fetch my wife. Marivic works as a medical officer in National Children’s Hospital. She didn’t bring an umbrella and I was worried. “What’s up, Doc?” I greeted her at the hospital door. While we were relieved to see each other, the problem was we couldn’t get a ride home. Jeepneys were packed and taxis refused us because of the flood. We had no choice but take an hour-long trek back home.
As we walked, Marivic and I talked. I told her about my anxiety to get a part in an audition I recently went to. She told me about her toxic day at work, her joy at teaching the Nepalese doctors to speak and understand Tagalog. We marvelled at the display of an antique furniture shop we passed. We laughed at the grammar of an ad posted by a politician bragging about his service to his barangay. We discovered shortcuts. I enjoy taking these walks with my wife. I can be myself. Ours is an easy relationship. I don’t have to “audition” to be her husband. I already am. And in the process of walking with my wife, I began to know her more, understand how she thinks about the world, and empathize with how she feels. I began to see her.
Jesus said as I walk with Him, He cleanses me from all sin. He purifies me. I need to just take it all in by faith. Why the Most Holy God considers this sinner’s mustard seed faith as more precious than gold is beyond me.
I don’t have to purify myself just so I can hang out and walk with Jesus. He says He does it for me. When He died on the cross, God declared me not guilty of all my sins. When He rose from the dead, I was given a new life. And it’s also true: as I stick close to Him, I get to see Him, too. I begin to understand how He thinks. I’d tell Him about my worries and He’d smile and point, “Look at that maya birds. I made them.” Then it sinks in. I realize sparrows never worry about their food. Our Father in heaven feeds them.
