Homily for Good Friday 2020

Yesterday, I was considering Jesus words from the cross “I thirst” in which He signals for the fourth cup to conclude the New Passover. Hanging upon the cross, held up only by His arms and what little thrust He could manage from his feet, now impaled with thick, bone piercing nails, Jesus still manages to speak not in a whisper, but in a tone loud enough to be heard by the centurions standing watch.

This had to have taken agony, not because of the atrophied leg muscles it would take to push the body so that breath could be rallied forth, but because the cause of death of a crucified victim isn’t usually blood loss, but rather slow asphyxiation. The weight of the body inhibits the body’s ability to exhale. Once the leg muscles fail, the body cannot push itself up to breathe properly. As the lungs fill with fluid, it is only a matter of time. And yet Our Lord concluded that first Mass, not only drinking the last chalice, but also telling us that His work of redeeming us from sin in this great liturgy was complete: “ Consummatum est”  “it is finished."

As I sat with this in prayer, I began to think of the symptoms of those struggling with the most emergent forms of the Coronavirus. The virus appears to damage the cells in the lungs and as the body attempts to fight the virus there, inflammation occurs which can lead to damage in the lungs’ ability to exchange oxygen. Clinically, it’s called Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome.  For those suffering with the extreme cases of Coronavirus, it likely feels like crucifixion.

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, this time of pandemic and its worldwide response is unheard of. Massive campaigns in manufacturing medical equipment to alleviate the suffering of those who have contracted the virus are underway. Scores of volunteers are coming out of retirement to care for the sick and put themselves in danger. Whole towns, cities, regions, and countries are attempting to limit the spread of this microscopic entity that does not discriminate. We pray for healing for those in their agony and we beg God for an end to this time of great distress.

But as we do so, this health crisis also offers a parable to us. Jesus was all too aware of the virus infecting the soul — sin, present from the first exposure to a foreign and deadly element in the Garden of Eden. He willingly charges into the fray, takes on frail humanity – knowing that He has the antidote, yet willingly suffering all of the deadly effects of sin. He shows us in the Last Supper and in the consummation of His suffering on the Cross the way that you and I can be freed from the virus of sin and fight off its effects for as long as we make our earthly journey. It is the Church, born from His side as blood and water flow from his wounds – The waters of baptism that destroy original sin. His body and blood that we receive whenever we consume the Eucharist is the continual inoculation – the medicine – that allows us to fight off actual sin, the ever present virus seeking entry to our souls.

As we continue to be present to our loved ones and encourage them and as doctors and workers in so many sectors place themselves in harm’s way to see that medicines, therapies, and care are given to those that need them, let us stay close to Our Lord on the cross today. He is both doctor and patient today. He has the remedy and willingly offers it to us. Will we consider the cost and keep near to him this day and always? Will we return to Him instead of seeking our own cure for sin, which always turns out to be snake oil? Will we allow him to breathe life into us and breathe in us by the Holy Spirit?  Will our lives change on the other side of this Long Lent and Triduum?

If we submit to the treatments that Our Lord provides, the Doctor of Our Souls who hangs upon the cross promises life like we have never known it. Not without suffering, but life with purpose, meaning, and a promise of eternity with Him; An eternity where pain, suffering, sin, and death are no more.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your Kingdom. Amen.