A Reflection for Thursday of the Fifth Week of Easter
Find today’s readings here.
“I have told you this so that
my joy might be in you and
your joy might be complete.” (John 15:11)
The Marvel Cinematic Universe holds a special place in my heart.
This set of movies is a major point of connection, sentimentality and joy amongst some of my closest friends in the world. While often lighthearted and packed with C.G.I. action scenes, I just can’t help but feel emotionally attached to the characters and the storylines. Every trailer, tease of the next villain and niche reference to a movie from over 10 years ago makes me think of my best friends.
The most recent Marvel film, however, bucks the trend. Thunderbolts* is fantastic and carries some serious emotional weight. At its core, it is a movie about mental health, understanding we are valuable and worthy of love, and that we don’t have to carry all of the hard stuff alone.
After some reflection on today’s Gospel, my mind jumped to Thunderbolts*. In particular, I thought about the way our heroes found strength in sharing their emotions with one another.
Jesus is saying that our joy as humans can only be complete once his joy, the joy of God, is within us. I might be extrapolating, but I was struck by the idea that an emotion—joy, in this case—is not complete until we experience it with another. Jesus’ words today reinforce, in my mind, the idea of community and togetherness. We can’t do it all alone.
I interpret his message as applying not only to joy but to all emotions. The more uncomfortable or upsetting ones—anger, sadness, grief—are not meant to be experienced alone. The feeling we get from engaging in these emotions by ourselves is not the final word. Joy is complete when another person’s joy, or God’s joy, is within us. Similarly, these unpleasant emotions are not “complete”; we work through them and find them “finished” only when we let other people in and their lives become part of ours.
Jesus speaks of not just seeing, understanding or relating to his love, but remaining there. To me, he means that this process of sharing emotions and walking with one another is never-ending. We don’t reach a point where we can “get through it all on our own.” We aren’t meant to. We are meant to walk with one another, and with God, forever. This empathetic approach is what keeps us doing what we do best: loving.
I’m not sure if Florence Pugh and Sebastian Stan could have imagined a reflection like this one being written as they filmed Thunderbolts*. But as long as they keep making these movies, I’m going to keep thinking about them this deeply. I am who I am. And I have my best friends to thank for it—in every emotion that they’ve walked with me through.
