Good Friday – Part II of the Triduum: A Deadly Love

Good Friday of the Lords’ Passion                                                                 March 29, 2024
Fr. Alexander Albert                                                               St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette

Part II of a 3 three part series on the Triduum. Part I is here.

Love. We’ve just seen love, continuing our theme for Paschal Triduum. Last night began with the “new commandment” to love one another as Christ loves us, to make others our “own,” invest in them, and serve them even though that leaves us vulnerable to betrayal.

While that reality is heartwarming when it’s washing feet, it is heartbreaking when it means inviting those we love to crucify us. It’s easy for us to see here how Jesus is the good guy and the Judean leaders are the bad guys, but have you really given it an unbiased look?

“You brood of vipers… whitewashed tombs… blind fools… dogs… pigs… hypocrites… children of Satan.” Jesus leveled these and more at the Jewish leaders. He even calls his own Apostle “Satan” at one point. Jesus is not always the nice guy giving a thumbs up. Sometimes he is a fiery, challenging, convicting… almost insulting pain in the neck. If you really consider things from the perspective of Caiaphas and other leaders, you may find their behavior to be surprisingly… reasonable.

Jesus is Jewish. He teaches that the Jews really are God’s chosen people; their covenants and commandments come from God. God commands that blasphemy be punished by death. For all the prophecies Jesus fulfills, none of them are quite explicit that God is a Trinity of three divine persons in one God. None of them make it quite clear that God will literally become a human being. Looking back with faith, we can see it, but for a Jew in the 1^st century, it was hardly obvious.

So when, as we heard this past Sunday, the high priest asks Jesus “do you claim to be God?” and Jesus answers him “Yes,” are we really surprised that he’s shocked and appalled at this? That he wants this man executed for blasphemy just as the law of Moses commands?

This is today’s lesson about love, real love. It rejoices with the truth. The thing is that we fallen human beings are pretty bad at recognizing the truth. Depending on our biology, upbringing, education, and current situation, there are some truths that are literally impossible for us to understand right now. Like trying to show a colorblind man the difference between red and green, forcing the issue only creates strife. But there is a difference between red and green. And, even if it is frustrating for someone who can’t see it, that difference can be the difference between life or death at a traffic light.

Unlike color, truths about God, Jesus, morality, human nature, and love are immensely rich, complex topics. Two perfectly reasonable people can, with all sincerity, find themselves on opposite sides. Only one can be right. Odds are that both are partly right and partly wrong. Being forced to engage with a truth you cannot see is maddening. Left to ourselves, we simply won’t.

The Judean leaders could not see the truth about Jesus. But Jesus loved them. Because he loved them, he spoke truth. The more he did, the more frustrated they became until they killed him. Jesus pushed them to the point of homicidal anger because he loved them. He also knew that only by dying over this would they come to see the truth. Do you get that? They would never have seen the truth unless someone was willing to die to show them, to push them to the point of homicidal rejection.

This is tough love. It is the love of Jesus on the cross who “thirsts” for the salvation of the very people murdering him. It is the love of the martyrs. It is why, sometimes, the pope, bishop, priest, or lay Catholic you hate actually loves you more than the one you like. It is why Catholics need to accept that we’re supposed to be hated. But the point of this homily is not to tell you to insult and attack people. No, I want you to put on the shoes of Caiaphas and Pontius Pilate.

I want you to look back at every argument, insult, or infuriating interaction you’ve had with someone because what they believe just can’t be true. Maybe you were right, but I want you to honestly entertain the possibility that you weren’t. Seriously allow yourself the mental and emotional space to consider their claims, to think through the implications, to put those in the context of the things you know they are doing right. If they were right, what scares you about it? Would it invalidate your life’s work? Would it mean that you’ve been doing something terrible all along? Would it make you look and feel foolish? Would it just be too dang hard to change?

Because Caiaphas and the Judean leaders felt those things. Some were smart and even good people. But they couldn’t see it and it drove them mad. They killed Jesus over it. Are you so sure of yourself that you’d risk crucifying Jesus too?

Sometimes love is investing in and serving those around us. Sometimes love is holding onto the truth even though it means we’ll be hated for it. For us fallible human beings, however, that love must begin with this question: do I love the truth enough to recognize it in the people I hate? Or will I kill that uncomfortable truth and bury it, hoping that it will finally leave me alone?

Part III of the series here.