Now has the Son of Man been glorified

Yesterday, as I sat contemplating the life sized crucifix hanging on the wall, behind the altar of a neighboring parish church, I thought of Jesus’ words in this week’s Gospel John 13: 31-35 ‘Now has the Son of Man been glorified.’ Judas had just left the ‘last supper’ to betray Jesus and start the chain of events that would lead to Jesus’ crucifixion.

Theologians interpret Jesus’ statement as referring to his imminent passion, death on the cross and His resurrection. Jesus was referring to this Paschal Mystery as his glorification.

I reflected on glory emerging from betrayal, suffering, death and resurrection. I tried to remember a time in my life when I experienced this. I thought of when I reluctantly accepted a job after our small business start up failed. That job relaunched my career to success and I would say ‘I was glorified.’

I began to understand more deeply that the glorification Jesus spoke of was paradoxical. That sometimes we have to go through what looks like human failure to achieve glory. There can be no Easter Sunday without Good Friday.

Jesus’ glory is his obedience to the Father to accept death on the cross, a complete self-giving love. This love—so freely given in the face of hatred and rejection—is what reveals the true glory of God. It is a glory not through might, but of mercy; not of conquest, but of compassion.

I began to appreciate that my obedience to the will of God, even in times of trial and tribulation, is my way of glorifying God. Just as Jesus trusted the Father through the darkest moments of His passion, I am called to trust that God is at work in my disappointments and detours.

As I sat there contemplating the crucifix, I remembered other times in my life that apparent failure led to something greater than I could have imagined—an invitation to participate in the unfolding of God’s plan for my life. In every small ‘yes’ to God, especially when it costs us something, we are drawn into the mystery of Christ’s own glorification—where love triumphs over despair, and life rises out of death.

That evening as I joined the procession leaving the church, I experienced an insight. The image of the crucifix remained in my heart, as a reminder of love's ultimate glory. I sensed anew that every step of my journey—especially the painful ones—can be united with Christ’s own path to glory.

In the dimming light, surrounded by others also seeking hope and meaning, I silently prayed: ‘Lord, help me to follow You faithfully, trusting that even in my struggles, You are bringing about something glorious.’