Good Friday Homily - Draw everyone to myself

Good Friday Homily:




April 22, 2011 Good Friday
Is 52:13-53:12; Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9; Jn 18:1-19:42


Today we remember that darkest hour. The hour when death appeared to claim the definitive victory in the world. The hour when Satan thought humanity had made its final choice, rejecting God for good. There is so much that attacks us and challenges our minds and hearts today. Like what happens so often, we are left with more questions than answers. And the temptation to doubt is great.



As we seek to approach all that transpired on this day, we must first ask, how did Jesus enter into this darkest hour? What was he thinking and feeling? You may have noticed that in John’s Gospel there is no account of Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. But there was a different occasion in his Gospel that was very similar and served the same purpose. Shortly before the Last Supper, Jesus said, “I am troubled now. Yet what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name” (Jn 12:27).


John, like the other Gospel writers, wants us to know that what Jesus did, he did in obedience to the Father. But he also acted fully aware of what was to happen and he entered into it willingly. Willing acceptance and obedience -- those define Jesus in this hour.


But what was his purpose? What did he hope to achieve? After Jesus said those words, he added, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself” (Jn 12:32). How is this possible? When he is lifted up, when he is crucified, how are we drawn to him? When confronted with a similar phrase, like “Jesus died for your sins,” these words can seem annoying and almost callous -- they can even drive us away rather than draw us toward Jesus. “What does that even mean?” What do my actions have to do with the story we just heard?


You see, we are trained in our individualistic society to think that one person’s actions can’t affect me. “Live and let live,” we repeatedly say. Pope Benedict in his new book says simply: “The idea of expiation is incomprehensible to the modern mind (Ben XVI, Jesus of Nazareth II, 119).” In other words, that Jesus’ death could have any impact on ME, makes little sense to our modern way of thining. Our individualism casts us deeper into the darkness. That (the Cross) can’t mean anything for me.


This is the great challenge of the Friday of Jesus’ Passion.


Last week the 8th graders at our school put together their version of the Stations of the Cross. They chose songs and images to portray the fourteen stations. Mostly they chose photos of great suffering and tragedy. Fires, earthquakes, starving children, broken families… What a great, powerful and deep intuition on their parts! They know that what Jesus suffered and the sufferings of this world are not disconnected. But what is the link?


Pope Benedict said: “God cannot simply ignore man’s disobedience and all the evil of history; he cannot treat it as if it were inconsequential or meaningless. … That which is wrong, the reality of evil, cannot simply be ignored, it cannot just be left to stand. It must be dealt with; it must be overcome” (132-3). Yes, but HOW? If evil must be overcome, why does god not root it out by his power?


Well, when God took on our human nature in Jesus, he experienced life in two different ways. One, he was the author of life, and knew that he had power over life and death. Two, he was one like us, bearing our infirmities, our suffering, our sin. Just as the prophet Isaiah had foretold of the Suffering Servant of the Lord. All that the students had brought out in their presentation, Jesus bore it all. That’s how he draws everyone to himself – their sufferings gain meaning in HIM, in HIS victory over sin and death. In HIS obedience, our disobedience is undone.


Jesus Christ has born all of these things, as Isaiah said. God is not just alongside us. Nor is he simply ABOVE us, using his power to dictate everything that will happen. No, he enters in to our humanity, especially at our points of greatest need. Jesus truly identifies with all of us in our sufferings and in the effects of our sin. The obedience of Jesus; his suffering and death; it truly reaches across time and place and embraces us here and now, offering us the forgiveness of sins.


Jesus knew that we would wrestle with the doubt as to whether his death could truly touch us…whether it really had any effect in our own lives. And so he said, from the Cross, “I thirst.” What does Jesus thirst for? Our acceptance of that great act of love. He thirsts for us to believe.


Mother Teresa had the word “I thirst” written on the wall next to the Crucifix in every chapel of the Missionaries of Charity throughout the world. In the poorest of the poor, in their thirst for love and dignity, she saw the thirs of Christ. The suffering that she saw was exactly what linked her mission to Christ and his redemptive suffering. That’s what gave her work meaning and purpose. Her certain faith that what Jesus did on the Cross was NOT SEPARATE from the plight of the poor – from the pain of all who suffer – that’s what gave her the strength to love.


In so many ways we encounter a world that has rejected the message of the Cross. It has turned in on selfish desires and, looking back at the Cross, found it empty and meaningless, even offensive. To an individualistic society, Christianity doesn’t make sense. Suffering could never be good. One man’s tragedy 2000 years ago could have nothing to do with me.


We encounter this in so many of our daily interactions with people. In those moments, are we afraid of proclaiming the Cross? Or have we embraced the truth that the Cross is truly something endured FOR ME and FOR YOU? …that Jesus truly draws everyone to himself when he is lifted up. My friends, our proclamation that rings out so clearly today must spill into our daily lives. “This is the wood of the Cross, on which hung the savior of the world.”