Musing on the Resurrection

UPDATE ON “NOT IN INK” : The Lord is Risen! Alleluia, Alleluia! Truly, He is Risen! Alleluia, Alleluia! I hope everyone is having a wonderful Easter Monday, or as it is called in Italy, “Pasqueta” — or “Little Easter.” I apologize that I wasn’t able to update you all with too many meditations/musings during Holy Week, but I hope you all liked the Good Friday meditation on the Centurion. If you haven’t read it yet, check it out.

Because these (somewhat daily) meditations/musings were part of my Lenten regiment, I won’t be updating the blog as often. But, I would like to continue updating it with musings and meditations. My goal right now is to post something for you lovely readers maybe once or twice a week.

Please continue to read the blog, and pray for me and my family. I am praying for all of you, and I wish you the greatest and most blessed joys of the Easter season! Thanks!

A Musing on the Resurrection

As He was going [to Jerusalem]… the whole crowd of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the miracles which they had seen, shouting: “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord; Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Him, “Teacher, rebuke Your disciples.” But Jesus answered, “I tell you, if these become silent, the stones will cry out!” –Luke 19:36-40

Yesterday, on my way home from Easter Sunday Mass, I was — as is my Easter tradition — jammin’ out to Ron Kenoly, a 90s Christian/Gospel artist. The last song on the album is called “Ain’t Gonna Let No Rock.”

Of course, as it is Easter, I thought of the story of the women disciples finding the tomb empty on the first day of the week:

Now after the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to look at the grave. And behold, a severe earthquake had occurred, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled away the stone and sat upon it. –Matthew 28:1-4

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices, so that they might come and anoint Him. Very early on the first day of the week, they came to the tomb when the sun had risen. They were saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?” Looking up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away, although it was extremely large. –Mark 16:1-5

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb bringing the spices which they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. –Luke 24:1-3

Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came early to the tomb, while it was still dark, and saw the stone already taken away from the tomb. –John 20:1

All four Gospels speak of a body-less tomb, and each four remark that the stone was rolled away — the tomb was unsealed. Death was conquered! Christ was victorious!

Now remember Jesus’ words on His entrance to Jerusalem: “If (my disciples) keep quiet, even the stones will cry out!”

After Jesus’ death and burial on Good Friday, the disciples were silent. Judas had killed himself; Peter had denied Jesus; all of the 12 Apostles except John had abandoned Him after He was arrested in the Garden. Their Master and Teacher was dead — cold, executed, and defeated. They did not remember what He had told them. They were in mourning.

But, while they kept their silence, even the stones — or at least, one large stone in particular, cried out. Maybe its voice was not heard. But, its presence was known all the same, because every Christian knows the story of the stone that was rolled away, of the tomb that was empty.

Can you imagine what that stone would have said, if it could cry out? What mysteries it would have told?

The stone was, in an essence, the first to see and hear the Gospel, the Good News — that Christ is risen from the grave! It was, alongside the angel, the first herald of His Resurrection!

That stone, if it had a soul, if it had a voice, would have proclaimed the Gospel message to those women who came weeping and mourning to the tomb that Sunday morning. It would have told them immediately Who Had Risen; it would have turned their tears into shouts of joy!

And, so we must do the same. We are an Easter people, and “Alleluia” is our song! Our God Lives! He has conquered sin and death, and has risen from the grave!

God did not give that stone a voice, yet it proclaimed the Good News all the same!

Shouldn’t we then proclaim the Good News — the Joy of the Resurrected Lord — all the louder? All the more clearly? For indeed, God has given us tongues to proclaim, and hands to share the Good News with our Brothers and Sisters in the Lord!

For while the stone in front of the tomb may have been the first herald of the Resurrection, we should not let it be the last! We cannot be quiet and timid like the disciples; we should not be afraid or unbelieving of the Easter message, as they were at first.

For, if we do, even the stones will cry out instead. And, as Ron Kenoly says, “I ain’t gonna let no rock out-praise me!”

Let us continue our Christian mission of proclaiming the Gospel — the Good News — so that we may make Christ’s presence among us known throughout all the world.

For, we are an Easter people, and “Alleluia” is our song!

THE LORD IS RISEN, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA! TRULY HE IS RISEN, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA!

Meditation on the Centurion for Good Friday

Author’s Note: This meditation was written on Good Friday, March 21, 2008.

A Meditation on the Centurion: For Good Friday

I had heard many thing about the man Jesus of Nazareth — I had heard stories of his miracles, how he healed the lame, cured the blind, cast out demons, and even raised the dead! I thought nothing of it — I know it was people making falsehoods to entertain themselves.

But today, I met Him! I met Jesus of Nazareth!

I helped crucify Him…

The day began like any other. We were brought three criminals to execute on Golgotha — one of them was Jesus.

I saw Him from a distance. He looking like a walking, often stumbling, wound. He wore a cap of thorns on His head, and I saw the scourge marks on His body. He was completely covered in blood. I wondered how He had strength to move — for I knew it must have been extremely painful to make any kind of motion. They had forced a man to help carry His cross, because He was too weak to do it all by Himself, and they did not want Him to die on the way.

They brought Him before me. I didn’t even think. I just did what I had always done.

First, I stripped Him of His robes. He did not cry out, but he winced from the pain. All the wounds on His back had been reopened, and He began to bleed profusely.

Most prisoners are very reluctant to be executed. Sometimes, I literally have had to thrown them down upon their cross.

But He — ever so humbly, ever so patiently — slowly laid Himself down upon the hard wood.

Then, I knew I would have to nail Him. I was surprised at His countenance — it was filled with blood and sweat. I could tell He was in complete agony, but there was something more to it. There was a loving gaze in His eyes, beneath the blood.

I wondered at what His crime was — what was it they had convicted Him of… that He deserved to die in this manner.

But then, caught in my reverie, I heard the people and my fellow soldiers yelling at me, “Nail Him! Crucify Him!”

I head the other prisoners being nailed to their crosses — they cried out in pain, but the people simply laughed at their suffering.

So, with the nail and hammer in hand, I stretched out His right arm upon the beam. I looked at Him —

Our eyes met.

I cannot describe what I felt. I knew in that instant that there was something different about this man — something… extraordinary.

He looked at me, and seeing the nails in my hand, He nodded His head and closed His eyes.

My heart was racing — my hands were now shaking so badly that I could hardly hold the nail on His wrist.

I couldn’t stop — I had to do it. The voices of the crowd had drowned away in my mind — and I could only think of Him.

I raised my arm and hoped that I would hit the nail. I closed my eyes — I didn’t want to look.

Bang!

I opened my eyes — the hammer had hit — the nail had pierced. His wrist was now covered in blood.

I repeated my movements — I hit the nail again and again. Each time it drove deeper into His flesh — but He did not cry out.

He only winced with pain.

After the nail had pierced completely, I ordered my fellow soldiers to nail His other hand and feet.

I did not desire to nail Him again.

Again, He was nailed, and I could only watch as the other soldiers mocked Him and spat on Him as He was being nailed to the cross. The spectators did not help either — they shouted at Jesus and insulted Him as He laid there motionlessly.

Then, a sign came. A fellow soldier brought it forward. It said: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”

“What is that?” I asked the other soldier.

He merely snickered and replied, “His title…”

The soldier took the sign to the head of the cross.

“Hail, King of the Jews,” he laughed, as he nailed it above the criminal’s head. Then, he spat in Jesus’ face.

I almost could not look — it was too gruesome.

Then, they lifted Him up. I helped to put the cross in its correct post — I did not want it falling over. I could not bear that!

So, He hung there —- Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.

Many of the Jewish priests and religious leaders came and mocked Him. They told Him to come down from the cross if He truly was the Son of God.

Then, I heard Him cry out —

“Father, Forgive Them, For They Know Not What They Do.”

It was too much — I tried to hold back the tears.

I did not know who this man was — but I knew He was innocent of any crime.

He hung there for three hours — form midday until three in the afternoon. Some of the other soldiers cast lots for His clothes, but I did not want to.

Finally, He said —

“I Thirst.”

I immediately took a sponge, soaked it in some of my wine, put it on a reed, and pressed it to His lips.

I wanted to do anything to help ease the pain — even if only for a moment.

Some of the people nearby said He was calling for Elijah, one of the Jewish prophets. I took no notice. I only wanted to help Him.

Finally, His hour came! I marveled at how He had managed to live so long, considering all of the blood He had lost and the suffering He had endured.

He lifted His head — raised His eyes to Heaven and said —

“It Is Finished! Father, Into Your Hands, I Commend My Spirit.”

Then, he bowed His head and died.

At that moment, I knew — I understood who He was.

“Truly,” I said aloud, “this man was the Son of God!”

Some of my companions were going to rebuke me, but there was too much chaos.

Apparently, the curtain of the Jewish temple had split in two, and the Jewish leaders were in frenzy.

We were ordered to break the prisoners’ legs so they could die quickly.

One of the soldiers was going to break Jesus’ legs, but I told him, “No! He is already dead!”

The soldier looked at me in disbelief, so I took up my spear and pierced Jesus’ side.

Immediately, water and blood came flowing out.

And everyone was now convinced that Jesus had already died.

Most of the people left — some went away wailing and beating their breasts.

But — a small group came forward. There were several women and three men. One of the women said to me, gently touching my hand —

“Will you please,” she whispered with tears in her eyes, “help us take my Son down?”

She lifted her eyes to Jesus, and I knew she was His Mother.

I wanted to comfort her in her sorrow — to console her — but I could only agree to help. To do whatever I could for her and for Him.

Two of the men helped me take His body down, while the third supported His Mother. I gently took out the nails that had pierced His hands and feet, and the men placed Jesus’ body in His Mother’s arms.

Whatever heart I had left broke at that moment.

I saw the Mother gently hold and rock the bruised and beaten body of her Son — just as a young mother would hold and rock her newborn baby. She held Him tightly and her tears fell upon His blood-covered face.

Then, with all of the motherly tenderness in the world, she kissed His forehead and pressed Him close to her heart.

Her soft fingers wrapped around His head, and she slowly lifted the cap of thorns out of His wounded skull.

As she placed it beside her, I saw that some of the thorns had pierced her gentle fingers, and her hands were now covered with blood.

The men finally convinced her to let them bury Him. She simply nodded her head at their request, and relinquished her Son’s body to their devoted arms.

I watched quietly as they carried Him off to a nearby tomb. I wished to follow them — or, at least, return to the city.

But, I could not.

His Sacrifice has left me too humble to move.

Musing on God the Son

Author’s Note: This is the second of a three-part series of musings on Each Person of the Holy Trinity. This musing is on God The Son. Read the Musing on God The Father and the Musing on God The Holy Spirit.

Once again, how to begin?

Knowing, loving, and serving God The Son is the ongoing journey of Christianity: to (attempt to) understand Christ’s relationship with us as His Church, and to love and serve Him as members of His Body – as His adopted brothers and sisters.

But, let us muse instead on the relationship between The Father and The Son, for how can we ponder The First Person without thinking of The Second? The Two Persons are infinitely connected by Their Eternal Love, which begets the Third Person of the Trinity – the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ identity as The “Son” (as He as revealed to us, and inasmuch as we understand the word in our modern culture) is inherently derived from His Relationship to The “Father” (again, inasmuch as we understand the word):

Love creates our identity (who we are) and binds us inseparably with our beloved, to the point that we would not exist without the beloved. A husband without a wife does not exist. A wife without a husband is a nonentity. Thus a husband and a wife could look in each other’s eyes and say “Thank you for creating me” without fear of idiocy. Husbands are created by wives. Love makes our identity dependent on another.

All identity is created by love. The identities of “husband” and “wife” are merely good examples of this fact. The truth is actually all-encompassing. Consider how the identity of everyone in a family is created by their loving relation to one another:

You cannot be a father or a mother without a child. Thus, in a typical paradox of love, the child creates his mother, for prior to the existence of the child the “mother” did not exist. The child creates his father in the same way, and none would deny that it is the mother and father who create the child in the physical act of love. — “Love Creates Us”

Again, the terms “Father” and “Son” have been revealed to us, because through their use, we can begin to understand the Mystery of the Trinity, though we will never be able to comprehend it fully (in this life).

So, why would God use the terms “Father” and “Son” to describe the relationship between The First and The Second Persons of the Trinity?

Because, the relationship between a father and a son, either Divine or human, I would argue, is based on three points:

  • Inheritance
  • Reflection
  • Love

There obviously are other aspects, but these three all tie in with each other. And, again, this is a crude way to define human and Divine relationships, but we must work with what we can.

INHERITANCE

Because a son inherits from his father. Historically, the firstborn son inherits his father’s property, title, and so on. More modernly, he might inherit his father’s business, debts, etc. Whatever belongs to a father will belong to his son. Across the ages, though, the eldest son inherits the father’s responsibilities at his death. He must become the head of the household; he must look after his widowed mother and fatherless siblings; he must look after whatever his father has left him (property, debts, instructions in his will).

Likewise, Jesus inherits many duties from His Father: He is sent by the Father, as He tells us many times in the Scriptures.

I speak the things which I have seen with My Father; therefore you also do the things which you heard from your father [Satan]… If God were your Father, you would love Me, for I proceeded forth and have come from God, for I have not even come on My own initiative, but He sent Me. — John 8:38, 42

He also ‘inherits’ His Divine Authority from The Father: “He (The Father) gave Him (Jesus) authority to execute judgment, because [Jesus] is the Son of Man” (John 5:27); and “But even if I do judge, My judgment is true; for I am not alone in it, but I and the Father who sent Me.” (John 8:16)

Thus, because The Son inherits His Authority from The Father, He is able to act as a proxy for The Father.

Recall the Parable of the Wicked Stewards: When the harvest time approached, [the landowner] sent his slaves to the vine-growers to receive his produce. The vine-growers took his slaves and beat one, and killed another, and stoned a third. He sent another group of slaves; and they did the same. But afterward he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the vine-growers saw the son, they said among themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and seize his inheritance.’ They took him, and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. –Matthew 21:33-40

REFLECTION

Consider the idea of the proxy – someone whom you send on your behalf to complete a task which you cannot. In an essence, this person is able to speak and act for you – with your equal authority. He (or she) is allowed to act as you, seemingly, – as a ‘second you,’ as it were.

Jesus – God The Son Incarnate – is able to act as The Father’s “proxy” not only because He is Equally God, as The Father is; but, because He is a reflection of the Father – His Second Self, as it were.

Today, we might say that The Son is the “spitting image” of His Father.

Jesus does not simply do things for His Father – He does things like His Father.

A few years ago, my theology teacher used me and my dad as an analogy of this Divine Resemblance. My dad and I have similar mannerisms, similar personalities, similar senses of humor. So, when my theology teacher met my dad at a parent-teacher conference, she could definitely see the resemblance between us. Using this as an example to the class, she said she could see my father in me, and me in my father; and that by knowing one, she knew the other.

So it is with The Son and The Father (although on a Divine and humanly incomprehensible level):

If you had known Me, you would have known My Father also; from now on you know Him, and have seen Him.” Philip said to Him, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been so long with you, and yet you have not come to know Me, Philip? He who has seen Me has seen the Father; how can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father, and the Father is in Me? —John 14:7-10

LOVE

As discussed above, our identities as “parent” and “child” come from love. Similarly, Jesus’ relationship with His Father is also characterized by Love – such a Love that we can only imitate in our limited human capacities, for it is a Love we cannot comprehend, though we see it working in our lives.

This Love between The Father and The Son is so powerful and immense, The Holy Spirit proceeds from it.

It is out of Love for His Father and for us that Jesus becomes man, dies for our sins, and rises again. It is out of Love for His Father and for us that Jesus continues to reveal Himself and make Himself present to us again each day – through prayer, through the liturgy, and so on.

But, here is the point we must take away: we are also called to share in this Love – to imitate it and reciprocate it as best as we can.

For Jesus tells His Apostles and us: “Just as the Father has loved Me, so I have loved you; abide in My love.” (John 15:9)

But, then only three verses later, He says: “This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)

So, Jesus is inviting us – asking us – challenging us to Love one other as The Father Loves Him, and as He Loves The Father.

This is an impossible challenge for us while we are in this life, but we must ask for God’s Grace to attempt, in every human way that we can, to share in this Mysterious, Divine Love by loving God and neighbor:

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself. –Luke 10:27

Musing on 1 Cor 2:2

“NON ENIM IUDICAVI SCIRE ME ALIQUID INTER VOS NISI ISEUM CHRISTUM ET HUNC CRUCIFIXUM.” – PAULUS

“For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you, except Jesus Christ and Him Crucified.”  –St. Paul, 1 Corinthians 2:2

A Musing on Remembering Christ Crucified

A few months ago, I was at a conference where the speaker at breakfast was a former Pentagon official. He began his speech by telling us what his typical days at the Pentagon were like, one day in particular. He said he had drank several Cokes that morning, and had told his coworkers he needed to step out for a moment, and walked down the hallway to the restrooms.

“Had I known in that moment, that was the last time I would’ve spoken to my coworkers, I would’ve said something different,” he told us.

He exited the restrooms and was beginning to walk back toward his office, which laid on the outer-most ring of the Pentagon (with a window looking out toward Virginia) when the plane hit the building.

He went on to describe how he survived those next few seconds, minutes, hours – the third degree burns on his body, the weakness in his muscles and lungs, the feeling of being on the edge of life, and the encouragement and comfort he felt when the hospital chaplain read the Psalms to him.

He had survived the terrorist attack at the Pentagon on September 11. His trip to the restroom, and various other circumstances, ultimately had saved his life, but the coworkers who had remained in the office where he’d worked had all died in the attack.

His memory of his coworkers and that day live on in his memory and on his body, as his burns are still visible, and still painful. He said every day, with every speech he gave, he remembered 9/11 and his coworkers and the others who died. He could never forget. It was thanks to God that he was alive, he told us, and he gave thanks for that every day.

Today, he shares his story with others, and continues to spread Christ’s message through his ministry. But, he understands that he lives thanks to Another.

St. Paul understood this, too. After persecuting the early Christians, and seeing a vision of Christ himself on his way to Damascus, he understood that he was living on “borrowed time.”

Just as the 9/11 Pentagon survivor saw that he was alive (physically) thanks to Christ and His Mercy, St. Paul recognized that he was alive (spiritually) thanks to Christ and His Cross.

We, as sinners, recognize the saving merits of Christ’s passion, as without them, we would have a chance to be with Him in Heaven when we die.

O My Dying Jesus, I kiss devoutly the Cross on which Thou didst die for love of me. I have merited by my sins to die a miserable death; but Thy death is my hope. Ah, by the merits of Thy death, give me the grace to die, embracing Thy Feet, and burning with love for Thee. (The 12th Station, St. Alphonsus Ligouri’s Stations of the Cross)

St. Paul mentions the saving graces of Christ’s Cross throughout his letters, but in 1 Corinthians, he marks that his ministry is centered on the remembrance of that Sacrifice which won our freedom from death.

“For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you, except Jesus Christ and Him Crucified.”

For the 9/11 survivor – in every speech he gave, every move of his burned body, every prayer he uttered – he remembers that he was saved from death that day, and remembers and prays for those who died.

St. Paul – in every teaching, every sermon, every shared meal and prayer – remembered the important work he had been commissioned through his ministry. He remembered Christ’s Mercy and Love – which He demonstrated through His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.

In those moments of his ministry, St. Paul walked a spiritual pilgrimage through Jerusalem to Calvary with Christ. The Crucified Lord was beside St. Paul, helping him draw others to the foot of the Cross, to remember the Sacrifice that took place there.

And, so do we, too. We remember. We commemorate the Crucified Lord with every Mass and, during Lent most especially, we make that spiritual pilgrimage through Jerusalem to Calvary by praying the Stations of the Cross.

So, let us continue to do so. May the Crucified Lord be in our thoughts, words, and actions during every moment of our day – especially those moments when we are actively ministering to others, as St. Paul did. Let us walk with Him to Calvary and commemorate His Sacrifice for us.

The Prayer to Jesus Christ Crucified

My good and dear Jesus, I kneel before you, asking you most earnestly to engrave upon my heart a deep and lively faith, hope, and charity, with true repentance for my sins, and a firm resolve to make amends. As I reflect upon your five wounds, and dwell upon them with deep compassion and grief, I recall, good Jesus, the words the prophet David spoke long ago concerning yourself: “They have pierced my hands and my feet; they have counted all my bones!”

Lord, we also offer a special prayer for those who died on September 11, 2001. May their souls, and all the souls of the faithfully departed, through the Mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen. +CHS

Meditation on St. John the Beloved

A Meditation on St. John the Beloved (For Lent)

My name is John, the son of Zebedee. For the past three years I have follow the One whom I have called, “Teacher,” “Master,” and “Lord.” Just hours ago, I witnessed his cruel death: His Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, His Arrest, His Scourging. I watched Him carry His Cross all the way to Golgotha, where He died after spending three hours suffering upon its wood.

I have witnessed the death of my Lord and God, and my best friend. Scripture says that “a true friend is more faithful than a brother.” My best friend, Jesus of Nazareth – the Son of God, lives out this passage to the fullest.

I remember the first time I met Him.

John the Baptist, my teacher, had sent me to Him, along with my fellow disciple Andrew.

Jesus’ words and appearance were simple; but they reflected an inner holiness that could not be paralleled. Andrew and I were mesmerized by His kind voice, His compassionate message, and His loving smile.

“Rabbi,” we asked Him, “Where are you staying?” And He showed us, and from that day forward, we followed Him. I knew without hesitation, that this man was worth leaving everything for – I knew that He was the Son of God.

I traveled with Him and 11 of my fellow Apostles all over Judea and Galilee. We 12 were His closest friends. But, being the youngest one, I often felt alone. These other men had given up wives and children to follow Him. All I had given up was fishing!

But, so many times, He took me off to the side, so as to reassure me.

“John,” He spoke to me gently, “You worry too much.”

“Come,” He said, patting me on the shoulder, “Follow me.”

Still, I would often wonder whether I was worthy to have a place among the 12; but, I knew without a doubt that He was God Himself. My Love for Him held me captive, so that I could never leave Him, yet I never desired to.

I followed Him to Mt. Tabor, to pray with Him. It was only Peter, James, and I. When we saw Him, in all of His Splendor with Moses and Elijah, I knew He was imparting us with a great secret.

He trusted us three, it seemed, above all the others. We three were with Him in the Garden the night before He died, as He prostrated Himself in prayer.

Yet, when they came to take Him away, all of them abandoned Him: Peter denied Him three times; Judas Iscariot betrayed Him for thirty pieces of silver; and even my brother James, along with Andrew, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James, Simon, and Jude – they fled when He was taken away.

I alone, of the 12, remained with Him to the end. And how could I have? I had not abandoned Him before; my heart, my very soul was His. I could not abandon my God and my friend to face His Death alone!

So, I stood there, at the foot of His Cross, holding His Mother as she cried great tears of despair and suffering. And He said to her, “Woman, behold your son.” And then, turning to me, He spoke – ever so gently, “Behold, your mother.”

And how is it, that the Mother of My Lord should come to me?

I thought that there had to be some mistake – that she should stay with Peter, or with her nephew James. I was not reluctant; I was merely stunned. But now, I see what He must’ve seen in me at that moment.

He had trusted me so much, in showing me His True Self, that now – He was once again calling on that trust, on that loyalty. This was a task of responsibility, not a burden. He saw that my heart was so bound to His that I would do whatever He should ask, merely out of LOVE.

That was what He had told us at Supper, the night before He died: “You are my friends if you keep my commands.”

So, Lord, I hope You may count me as Your Friend. From this moment forward, I will take Your Mother – My Mother – into my home and into my heart.

I will do as You have done. I will lay down my life for My Friend.

I will lay down my life for You.

Essay on the Crucifix

Essay on the Significance of the Crucifix

Author’s Note: This column/essay was written in 2007.

One of the most distinguishing characteristics of any Catholic church usually hangs over the tabernacle – a crucifix, adorned with an image of the body of Jesus of Nazareth. Unlike other Christians, Catholics put a big emphasis on the crucifix, rather than simply on a cross. It seems awkward that, as Christians with such a devout respect for human life, we should put so much spiritual stress on an instrument of torture and suffering. However, the crucifix has a deeper message that is important for all men to realize.

The most important aspect of the crucifix is that it serves as a reminder that Christ’s sacrifice won our salvation. By dying for us on Calvary, Jesus built a bridge to Heaven with two boards and three nails. The Son of God became humanity’s bronze serpent (c.f. Num 21:4-9) and “died for us, that all of us, whether awake or asleep, together might live with him” (1 Thes 5: 9-10).

As the means of our salvation, the Cross of Christ is a source of joy and hope. St. Paul even goes so far as to say, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Gal 6:14). Also, Jesus’ selfless sacrifice redeemed Adam’s original sin – “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive” (1 Cor 15:22). In addition, the crucifix is not a symbol of death but resurrection. The Letter to the Romans assures us, “If we have been united with him in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection” (Rom 6:5). Thus, the crucifix is not a simply a form of execution, but rather is a symbol of new life in Christ.

Similarly, the crucifix is a daily reminder of God’s infinite love for humanity (c.f. John 3:16). The Second Person of the Trinity took on our human nature to personify the Suffering Servant that Isaiah said would be pierced for our offenses and crushed for our iniquities (c.f. Isaiah 53:5). God loved us so much that He willingly accepted death, and through it, He “purchased for God men of every race and tongue” (Rev 5:9). Ultimately, Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross calls us to love one another as God has loved us by laying down our life for our friends (c.f. John 15:12-13).

For us as Catholics, the crucifix is also important because it parallels the Eucharist. Just as the body of Christ is presented on the cross, so the Sacrifice of Christ on Calvary is re-presented in an un-bloody way at the Mass. The symbol of the crucifix, like the Eucharist, echoes what Jesus told His disciples at the Last Supper: “This is my body” (Mark 14:22). Additionally, the presence of Jesus’ body on the cross, especially at the Mass, reminds us of St. Paul’s words, “Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it” (1 Cor 12:27).

Ultimately, the crucifix is more than just an instrument of torture – it was the means of salvation for all of humanity. As such, we as human beings should give it due respect. It was not simply the cross that saved us, but Jesus Christ’s self-sacrifice that made our redemption possible. In the end, the crucifix echoes the words of Christ for all eternity:

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matt 16:24).