Tuesday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 318​

But in those sacrifices there is only a yearly remembrance of sins,

for it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats take away sins.

For this reason, when he came into the world, he said:

Sacrifice and offering you did not desire,
but a body you prepared for me;
in burnt offerings and sin offerings you took no delight.
Then I said, As is written of me in the scroll,
Behold, I come to do your will, O God.

I was taught in the seminary, almost a half-century ago, a certain principle that I believe but cannot explain: the Lord saved us from our sins by his incarnation and crucifixion because there is no other way we might be saved. A simple threat like my father used to deliver -- "Straighten up and fly right!" -- would not suffice. Nor would a pleading word like, "I love you so much!" Something more is required of both God and us.

A sacrifice is not simply a sign of good faith, an indication of good intentions. By its roots the word implies making holy: facere and sacra. The sacrifices of the Old Testament bound the people to their Holy God, as in when Moses sprinkled the blood of a heifer on a stone altar. The blood was life; the people, themselves; and the altar, the presence of God. Under the priestly leadership of Moses the people were "baptized" in the blood of the heifer. In the living blood they were one with their God.

But, as history demonstrated and the sacrifice of Jesus showed, it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats (should) take away sins. Much more was required. The Old Testament sacrifices were not in vain, they were simply unfulfilled until the real sacrifice was made. It could not be made by Abraham, Moses or Solomon; it had to be an act of God by the Son of God.

And yet there was more. Jesus, the Son of David, was not born to the Levite priesthood. Not for him to offere a sheep or heifer as all the people watched. He must offer more than he could afford, more than he had to give. He must give the last measure of breath, blood and water.

This is not a man-made rule; I didn't make this up. Nor would I want to demand so much of anyone, least of all, God.

But it was necessary.

As we observe the Passion of Jesus, we must see how far his sacrifice will go. The Azteks of pre-Columbian Mexico were known for their human sacrifice. Annually they chose a young healthy male from the ruling class. He would enjoy a year of luxurious splendor before his death, with all the pleasures of food, drink and sex before his heart was cut from his living body. If he found it painful he could not complain of abuse or neglect. He was accorded every sign of respect throughout his life until his last day. He was honored for his willingness to die, and he received that recognition.

It was necessary that Jesus go far beyond the courage of these Aztek lads. He should suffer hatred, betrayal, abandonment, mockery, abuse and torment. His kenosis, the emptying of self, must be total. Saint Mark dwells on that in his gospel, as even the thieves who were crucified with him joined in the hilarity. With his last, gasping breath he seemed to lose all hope for mercy; "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me."

Finally, as we have reflected on the total sacrifice of Jesus, we must understand that he gladly, willingly, eagerly wanted to make this sacrifice. Yes, he knew it would be painful. It must be soul-wrenching to the point of despair. He did not hesitate. His sacrifice would not be a complete if he were not absolutely willing. There can be no hesitation. And so we hear him say, in the Letter to the Hebrews, "Behold, I come to do youir will, O God!"

Some Christian spiritualities of the past, both Catholic and Protestant, have used the suffering of Christ to inflict shame and guilt upon the faithful. Often they wanted to remind children and wayward adults of their religious obligations. Mischief in church or playground was confronted with ghastly images of bloody sacrifice. "See how your sins offend God!" the impious were told. Perhaps these scolders meant well.

But like Moses who berated his people even as water flowed from a miraculous rock, they missed the point. They dimiinished God's pure goodness. Our God would have us wonder at a sacrifice that is entirely human and infinitely beyond human capacity. Only the Spirit of God could effect such a prayer as we have seen in Jesus and his martyred saints.