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Sunday, March 25, 2018

Homily for Palm Sunday

Homily for
Palm Sunday

March 25, 2018
Mark 14: 1—15: 47
Nativity, Washington, D.C.

“Truly this man was the Son of God” (Mark 15: 39).

The Three Marys and St. Longinus
by Mathias Grünewald - commons.wikimedia.org
Have you ever noticed that our Profession of Faith—whether the Apostles’ Creed, which goes back to around 200 A.D., or the Nicene Creed, which goes back to 325—there is only one reference to the public life of Jesus Christ?  We profess, “For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried….”  Not a word about his preaching, his calling of disciples, his instructions to them, his parables, his miracles, even his institution of the Eucharist.  Just that he suffered death by crucifixion and was buried at the direction of Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect or governor of Judea from 26 to 36 A.D.  One bare historical fact underlies the core belief of our faith, viz., that this Jesus who so suffered, died, and was buried then rose from his tomb by the power of God and so turned his suffering and death into something “for our sake,” for our benefit.

The Romans were harsh executioners, and crucifixion was their preferred method for dealing with rebels, pirates, ordinary felons, and slaves.  It was excruciatingly painful—the root of excruciating is crux, “cross.”  They inflicted it upon tens of thousands of criminals and enemies of the state, partly to make them suffer extremely, partly to terrorize the general population.  And they were very good at it, experts.

Crucifixion was so routine in the Roman Empire that our evangelists don’t even bother to tell us what it was like; everyone knew.  So they report simply, “They brought him to the place of Golgotha [that’s Hebrew; in Latin, it’s Calvary]….  Then they crucified him” (Mark 15:22,24).

So what made the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth different from all the other thousands and thousands of Roman executions?  Why would St. Paul place the cross at the center of his missionary preaching when it was so repulsive, such an instrument of torture and terror?

Because the resurrection gave a unique meaning to the death of Jesus.  He was not killed, buried, and forgotten like, e.g., the 6,000 slaves whose crosses lined the Appian Way from Rome to Capua in 71 B.C. after the revolt of Spartacus was crushed.

Because the passion and death of Jesus, following his resurrection could be interpreted in the light of the sacred Scriptures, specifically the prophets and psalms.

Why could not Jesus have died like most of us do—of illness, accident, or perhaps victims of a crime?  Would that have shown the depths of God’s passionate love for humanity?  Paul reminds us that Christ, God’s equal—or his Son, as we’d say and the Roman centurion proclaimed—completely emptied himself of every dignity; he “took the form of a slave,” even in the brutal manner of his death (Phil 2:6-8).  God wished to reach down as low as he could go within human society so as to raise up, to elevate, everyone:  no one left behind.       

Jesus did that heavy lifting from the cross by offering himself as a sacrifice.  All the gospels tell us that it was Passover, when unblemished lambs were being slain, their blood poured out, in commemoration of how the blood of lambs saved the Hebrews in Egypt by marking their houses.  Jesus associated himself with that offering—in his case, unlike the lambs’, a free and conscious choice:  “This is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed for many,” he announced as he passed a cup around to the Twelve on the nite before he died (Mark 14:24).

Isaiah, on the other hand, prophesied about the Servant of the Lord who would bear our infirmities and be crushed for our offenses; who would be chastised that we might be healed; who would be ranked among the wicked altho he had done no wrong; who would give his life as an offering to take away sin and win pardon for offenders (Is 53:4-12).

This is what Jesus did on the cross, turning shame into glory.  Thru his death Jesus won life for us even tho we, unlike him, are sinners, are guilty, do deserve shame and condemnation.  The Lord’s resurrection after his crucifixion, in the words of one commentator, “is the mighty act of God to vindicate the One whose very right to exist was thought to have been negated by the powers that nailed him to a cross.”[1]  Therefore St. Paul exulted in the cross, found it glorious, preached it was our salvation:  “I decided to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified,” he wrote to the Christians of Corinth (1 Cor 2:2); “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor 1:18); “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Gal 6:14).

Mark begins his Gospel by announcing “the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1).  The climax of his Gospel is the centurion’s recognition that this crucified man “is truly the Son of God” (15:39).  What leads him to this recognition?  Seeing how Jesus died.  We can’t really explain that, only acknowledge it—make the same confession of faith.

In Jesus’ last moments, as we just heard in the reading of the Passion, he resisted the temptation to come down from the cross in a miraculous display of power:  “Come down from the cross if you are the Messiah, and we’ll believe you” (cf. 15:32).  He did not call upon Elijah—the prophet who, according to tradition, had not died but had been carried off to heaven and who would usher in the messianic age—he did not call on Elijah to appear and save him (15:36).  No, he stayed on the cross, even while feeling abandoned by God.  Jesus was completely faithful to God, even at the cost of betrayal, abandonment by his friends and by God (it seemed), mockery, shame, torture, and death.

The centurion, there to see Pilate’s sentence carried out, sees all this, hears Jesus cry out, watches his final breath—and believes.  A pious tradition calls him Longinus and claims that eventually he was martyred for Christ.  There’s a large statue of him in St. Peter’s Basilica.

St. Longinus in St. Peter's
(Bernini)
Longinus found God on the cross.  Where do we find him?  Among us, among human beings in all their wretchedness—economic or social wretchedness, to be sure; in the wretchedness of suffering and death.  But above all, in the wretchedness of our sins, our faithlessness.  Jesus has been there and is there to counteract it all and convert us, too, into the children of God when, like Longinus, we see him for who he is.


       [1] Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), p. 64.

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