On this Good Friday we hear John’s account of the passion, the longest account in the Gospels. Last Sunday, Palm Sunday, we heard Luke’s account. All four gospel accounts end with the passion, death and resurrection of the Lord. All four passion accounts differ in significant ways, and all four accounts of the resurrection on that first Easter Sunday differ in remarkable ways, agreeing on very little. It must be that the many stories that circulated among the disciples of the immediate post resurrection period in the early Church, stories told and retold and not written down until years later, were all sources for the four evangelists who finally wrote the gospel down. Like all stories told orally about events, they would differ.
But we must also prayerfully reflect that the events of the Lord’s crucifixion and certainly of his resurrection, are unlike any other events that ever were. For instance, in Mt 27:42, the chief priests and the elders mockingly challenge Jesus dying on the cross to, “Come down from the cross now, and we will believe in you.” And we could ask ourselves the question, isn’t that true? Wouldn’t that be an even greater witness, a greater sign? Couldn’t the Lord have so convinced the elders who rejected him by some great and incontrovertible sign? But then we remember what Jesus said to Peter in Mt 26:53-54 when he drew his sword, “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the scriptures be fulfilled, which say it must happen in this way?”
For the death of Jesus, the crucifixion of the Messiah, is and always will be a deep and abiding mystery that eludes any explanations or attempts to simply figure it out. There had to be some immensely hidden, necessary reason that Jesus, “Who, though he was in the form of God…, emptied himself, taking the form of a slave… and humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.” Phi 2:6-8
John tells us in Jn 3:16 that it was because God so loved the world. So loved us. What is our response in the face of such love, of such willingness on God’s part to abandon everything for our sakes? If God so loved us, while we were still lost in our sins, to unite with us so completely and then give himself entirely for us so that we could be set free, why are we still afraid to give ourselves entirely to him? Are we afraid that he will ask something too much from us? All the Lord asks of us is that we, “Come and see.” Are we afraid that we are not worthy? “Neither do I condemn you,” Jesus told the woman caught in adultery. “No one can come to me unless the Father draw them.” Are we afraid we do not have what it takes? “Do not be afraid, little flock. It has pleased the Father to give you the Kingdom.” Are we afraid it will be too difficult or overwhelm us? “My yoke is easy and my burden light.” God is so gentle in Jesus that, “The bruised reed he will not break and the smoldering wick he will not quench.” Are we afraid that we lack faith? “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”
This Easter let us pray that the light that has come into the world will finally shine fully upon us. Let us pray that we can finally fully embrace our salvation that has simply been given to us, “A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.” Let us pray for the courage to finally say yes. We don’t have to do anything else, God will provide the rest. “I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have overcome the world!”