Friday, 15 April 2022

Good Friday 2022

Today is the day we abide with Him. We stand at the foot of the Cross with Mary the Mother of Jesus. Our rags to riches self-made mindset can only wring helplessly as we watch God’s only Son dying. As life slowly ebbs from Him, death eternal stranglehold is gradually loosened. No longer will death be perpetual.

The Church, our Mother, asks us to stay close to Jesus and so on the day which honours His Passion and His Death, no Mass is celebrated. It is the only day in the whole liturgical year where no Eucharist is offered. There is a deeper reason for not having Mass than just to accompany Jesus and it is supplied by the nature of what a Sacrament is.

Those familiar with the traditional catechism know the usual definition for a Sacrament is “an outward sign of an inward reality”. Good Friday shines a spotlight on the “inward reality” which means that the “outward sign” must take a back-seat. The explanation given by St Thomas states that “the figure [the Mass] ceases on the advent of the reality”. The Eucharist is a “figure and a representation” of our Lord’s Passion. On the day in which His Passion is recalled as it unfolds, the Eucharist is not consecrated.

Another way to understand this may be taken from the Sacrament of Matrimony. There is no marriage in heaven and we think that this is based on Our Lord’s teaching in Matthew 22:30: “For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage but are like angels in heaven”. A Sacrament functions like a road sign. On our journey to heaven, we will definitely need directions but once there, road signs can be dispensed with. In that sense, the intimate bond between a man and a woman is a sign or a representation of the union between Christ and the Church. On earth when we encounter faithful and fruitful love between a man and a woman, we are reminded of the conjugal love between Christ, the bridegroom and the Church, His bride. When we are in heaven, we will no longer need that reminder or sign because the reality is right before us—Christ in His love for the Church. Likewise, in heaven there is no need for baptism because we are already the members of Christ’s Body.

So on this day when we aim is to recall and feel the Passion of the Lord as we observe the anniversary of His death, we will refrain from celebrating the Eucharist. Instead, we come bent low before the blood-stained throne of the Cross to adore Him who rules the world in His humility. On this anniversary, even though there is no Mass, we are privileged still to receive His Body because we consecrated enough hosts yesterday.

Absence is to help our hearts grow fonder. The glaring absence of Mass throughout the world today is to allow sadness to touch us because we, or to be more personal, “I have loaded my sins on the back of my beloved Saviour”. As He hangs on the Cross, the weight of my sins is slowly suffocating Him. My sins nailed Him to the Cross but it is His love for me that has kept Him there.

The scale of this Man’s love for me can be appreciated through the dynamics of John’s Gospel. Earlier, as the Passion Narrative was re-enacted, one got a sense that Jesus already knew what lay ahead of Him. He was more than the Suffering Servant of the 1st Reading because that image of Prophet Isaiah is rather passive—almost a victim. In John’s Gospel, Jesus knew they were coming to kill him. Like most sane people, He could have avoided it. He could have just gone into hiding and escape this horrible death. But the reality remains that He resolutely stared death in the face by accepting His Passion. In other words, life was not snatched from Him. He willingly surrendered His life so that I can have eternal life. He did all that for me.

And we should be at a loss. As the Cross is unveiled, I should keenly feel responsible for my sins and have at least a modicum of guilt that I contributed to the death of my Saviour. Like I said on Palm Sunday, it is easy to hide behind the generic “we” without ever assuming personal accountability. Furthermore, we tend to gravitate towards “happy ever after” and because we are ill at ease with loss, we quickly gloss over what is uncomfortable. It is more consoling to feel that He died for me than for me to take greater responsibility that my sins put Him there.

Our current psychology favours sickness, illness, or psychosis as the cause of our sins rather than sinfulness as the root of some of our diseases. For example, one cannot help stealing because one is a kleptomaniac. You name it, we have it but when sickness becomes an excuse for one’s sinfulness, it definitely lessen one’s culpability. This effort to retake and regain accountability will require time and space but more than that, it needs a lot more brutal honesty than mitigating justification. Staying with the lifeless Body of our Lord might give pause for a more profound reflexion on our guilt and allow us to reclaim personal responsibility.

To grow more and be converted to the Lord, this day is necessary as it allows us to focus on the Cross. Without a doubt, Good Friday has to be sorrowful but the last word is not death. It cannot be because love will not be trapped by death. Good Friday begins with death of the Saviour but it will end with life eternal—that life, which by Christ’s death on the Cross, He purchased it for me. To grasp the depth of His sacrifice for me, I need to stand watch at the foot of the Cross. As I drink of His blood that flows from His side, I pray that He gives me the grace to cherish deeply the life He has won for me.