(Good Friday 2013: This homily
was given on March 29, 2013 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, RI, by Fr. Raymond
Suriani. Read Isaiah 52:13-53:12;
Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9. Also read the
Passion Narrative of St. John.)
[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Good Friday 2013]
Could God have done it some other
way? Could the Lord have reconciled the
world to himself and made salvation possible for the human race without the
horrible death of his Son on the cross?
The answer, believe it or not, is
“Yes, he could have!” As St. Augustine
said, “Other possible means were not lacking on God’s part, because all things
are equally subject to his power” (On the
Trinity 8:10). And, as St. Thomas
Aquinas put it, “It was possible for God to deliver mankind otherwise than by
the passion of Christ, because nothing
shall be impossible for God (cf. Luke 1:37).”
But, even though the Lord could have done it in some other
fashion, historically he did in fact choose the cross. And because the Father chose the passion and
death of his Son to be the means of our salvation, it was (as Jesus told the
disciples on the road to Emmaus) “necessary that the Messiah should suffer
these things and so enter into his glory.”
To which doubters and unbelievers
will immediately respond, “Well, then the god you Christians worship must be a
sadist! In fact, he’s so sadistic that
he not only gets his jollies by inflicting pain on others; he even gets some
kind of perverse enjoyment by inflicting pain and suffering on himself!”
To which we Christians say, “No! Our God is not a sadist; he’s a loving Father! And it’s precisely in the passion and death
of his Son that he reveals his Fatherly love to us most completely. Consequently, even though the Lord could have
redeemed us in some other way, it was most
fitting that he redeemed us through an event like the crucifixion—as
horrible as it was.”
I say it was “most fitting”
because God knows our hearts (since he created us!), and thus he understands
the questions that trouble us the most in this fallen world. And two of the most troublesome, nagging
questions that we face as human beings are these:
Does true justice exist?
And Does God really care?
The cross of Jesus Christ answers
both of these questions in a very clear and powerful way—which is why the
crucifixion was such a fitting way to bring about our salvation.
Take the first: Is there such a thing as true justice? Does it really exist? It can seem, at times, like it doesn’t. As we all know, we live in a world where so
very often the innocent suffer and the wicked prosper. We live in a world where some bad things
happen to some very good people, and some great things happen to some very bad
people! We live in a society where evils
like the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School occur all too frequently. And that can lead us to seriously question
not only the justice of God; it can also lead us to doubt the very existence of
justice itself!
Is it real—or is it just an
illusion?
Well, the passion and death of
our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, make it clear that Almighty God takes
justice very seriously. St. Paul tells
us in Romans 6:23 that “the wages of sin is death.” That text reminds us that even though true
justice is not always manifested in this world, it will be a reality in eternity! But the message of the cross is that Jesus
has taken the punishment that we justly
deserve for our sins and has, by his sacrifice, made it possible for us to
escape eternal punishment. As Isaiah
prophesied in tonight’s first reading: “It was our infirmities he bore, our
sufferings that he endured . . . he was pierced for our offenses, crushed for
our sins . . . the Lord laid upon him the guilt of us all.” And because of all this, as our second
reading from Hebrews reminds us, “[Jesus] became the source of eternal
salvation for all who obey him.”
So yes, justice does exist with
God, but if we are united to Jesus (by baptism, faith and obedience), mercy can
triumph over justice for us. That’s the
good news! There’s a great line from the
diary of St. Faustina that says it perfectly.
In one of her private revelations, Jesus reportedly said to her, “[The
person] who refuses to pass through the door of my mercy must pass through the
door of my justice.”
Ultimately it’s either one or the
other—for us and for every human person.
That should be all the motivation
we need to stay in the state of grace and go to confession often!
Which brings us to the second
troublesome issue that I mentioned earlier: Does
God really care? Does he care about the world? Does he care about me?
St. Paul says in Romans 5: “It is
rare that anyone should lay down his life for a just man, though it is barely
possible that for a good man someone may have the courage to die. It is precisely in this that God proves his
love for us: that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
The Lord knows how easily we can
doubt his love. It happens, normally,
when we’re going through a very difficult suffering in our life. In those times of trial and distress it can
seem like God is a million miles away.
And so he chose the cross to redeem us (even though he didn’t have to!) so
that in those moments of questioning and trial we would be able to say, “Yes,
God does love me! Yes, he does care! Although I don’t always feel it in my
emotions, I believe it in the very depths of my heart; for God so loved the
world—he so loved me—that he gave his
only Son. God took the worst that this
world had to give—a bloody and horrible death—and he used that as the
instrument to give me life.”
I have a little plaque in my sitting
room that someone gave me several years ago, and on it are these words: “I
asked Jesus, ‘How much do you love me?’
And Jesus said, ‘This much—‘ and he stretched out his arms and died.”
Tonight we thank the Lord for his
glorious sacrifice, which gives hope to us and to every human person—especially
those who suffer great trials and great injustices in this life.
Let me close my homily now with a
little poem which was written by Heide Cozzolino, who’s the second grade
teacher at St. Pius X School. It’s
called, appropriately, “Good Friday”—and it’s a beautiful reminder of God’s
mercy and love, both of which we celebrate tonight as we contemplate the cross:
It stirs me to my stomach pit, oh God,
And wrenches all emotions in my chest—
To see your wooden cross held high—
And all that once was beautiful
Upon the purple altar mourns within the darkness,
Stripped of all adornment, cast in ghastly shades . . .
What did you see upon your walk
Of agony, oh Lord?
A blur of faces, and the ground leaping up
Too often, to slam against your face,
And no escape at any turn, no way to find respite?
I move my hands upon your cross,
My lips against its wood—
I know but little of it, this passion you endured,
This giving up of self to deepest torment!
You stretched out your arms, oh God,
Receiving every nail
As communion with your human death—
You placed your feet in willingness
Beneath the hammer’s blow—
And all for what, oh God?
For them . . .
For me . . .
For us!
