Holy Saturday

On the seventh day God completed the work he had been doing; he rested on the seventh day from all the work he had undertaken. God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work he had done in creation. Genesis 2:1-3

Good Friday 2026

 Lectionary: 40

Yet it was our infirmities that he bore,
        our sufferings that he endured,
while we thought of him as stricken,
        as one smitten by God and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our offenses,
        crushed for our sins...

Americans, with our deep convictions about individuality, wonder how one man might suffer for everyone who ever was or will be born. Where is the sense of that; and how does it work? How can a man who lived centuries ago in a distant country bear my infirmities or endure my suffering, or atone for my sins? 

John the Evangelist recognized the prophetic quality of Caiaphas's blunt assessment of the Sanhedrin's predicament, when he berated his colleagues...

“You know nothing, nor do you consider that it is better for you that one man should die instead of the people, so that the whole nation may not perish.”

Caiaphas feared the Roman response if Jesus were to take control of Jerusalem as the long-awaited messiah. There would be havoc. Like the American Congress which hesitated to end slavery in the United States, the Sanhedrin refused to believe that God could deliver the Jewish nation from an ominous, overwhelming evil. Faith in Jesus seemed like a fatal illusion for mystics and poets; it was not realpolitik. 

Nor did Caiaphas suppose that one man's right to life might trump the well-being of a nation. If saving Israel cost only the life of one innocent man, the solution was obvious. And given that Jesus had no army and that his popular support could evaporate overnight, his death would solve many problems! "You know nothing!" he said to his baffled confederates. You don't see the obvious! 

But Saint John recognized the guiding hand of God in the ugly remark. He remarked about Caiaphas, 

"He did not say this on his own, but since he was high priest for that year, he prophesied that Jesus was going to die for the nation, and not only for the nation, but also to gather into one the dispersed children of God.

The hopes and fears of all the years would be fulfilled in Jesus. For centuries the Jews had longed for and prayed for the return of all God’s people to Israel and Judah. To this day, they sing "L'Shana Haba'ah B'Yerushalayim" (Next Year in Jerusalem) at the end of the Passover Seder and Yom Kippur. 

Even as a child, Jesus heard his mission spelled out for him in the words of Isaiah the Prophet:

It is too little, he says, for you to be my servant,

to raise up the tribes of Jacob,

and restore the survivors of Israel;c

I will make you a light to the nations,

that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.*

Thus says the LORD….

Christians recognize Jesus's authority far beyond the Jewish nation in his passionate love for every human being. We saw that love when he healed the sick and raised the dead of both Jews and Gentiles; we saw it when, after he died, gentiles insisted on hearing about the Jewish Messiah and then asking for Baptism into him. 

His love is born of his human nature which embraces everyone's humanity and every living thing on earth. Because He is God and man he has within himself the bond which ties him to every human being, and the authority to save us from our sins. His flesh is our flesh and his blood is our blood; and he confirms these ties to us when he commands us to eat this – this is my body – and to drink this – this is my blood – and, “Do this in memory of me.” 

Although this doctrine can be explained only with poetic analogies, it is more than poetry. It is a guiding principle for our lives and the motive for our action. We have watched him die in an apparently futile statement of his faith in God, and seen him raised and returned to us to show us that in Him the Father has conquered sin and death. 

Convinced as we are that Jesus has made human life meaningful in what appears to be an endlessly empty universe; and sure that He has confirmed our right to live, breathe, and rejoice in his divine presence: we make sacrifices with him. 

Even those actions that no one sees -- our prayers, fasting, and generosity -- make a difference far beyond any recognized sphere of influence because they are made in union with Him. The Father who sees in secret repays us. We also do penance with him who has not sinned for we know our sins: those that are publicly known, those that are committed in solitude, and those that seem to have no consequences whatsoever. They also have universal ramifications. 

Our sins have been atoned by the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Our sins, our repentance, and our return to communion with the Lord mark the Way of the Cross for us. We know that, for we have read the history of sin, mercy, healing, and reconciliation in the Old and New Testaments.  

Because Jesus has not sinned, he alone is worthy to offer himself in reparation for our sins. Because he is God’s Son he alone can bring us into God’s presence and present us healed and whole and happy as a gift to our Father. 

We thank God for Good Friday and the faith God has given us to participate in these prayers.

Holy Thursday-Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper

 Lectionary: 39

So when he had washed their feet
and put his garments back on and reclined at table again,
he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you?”

Although I was born in 1948, I remember much about the Second World War, and Korea, Vietnam, Panama, Haiti, the Balkans, Somalia, Afghanistan, and Iraq. So I am not surprised that we are now at war with Iran, have invaded Venezuela, and might send troops into Cuba. I remember something of the past, despite the biases and faults of my memory. However, I notice that when arguments are made against another military adventure, we’re told, “The past doesn’t matter. The world has changed; the army has changed; we have all new technologies. This will be altogether different.”

The ancient Greeks told the story of the merchant who demanded that his neighbor pay back the money he borrowed last year. The debtor replied that he owed him nothing since he is not the same person who borrowed the money. He was drunk at the time, and now he is sober. "I have left behind my past and moved on, and you should too!" he said.

Hearing that argument, the merchant slugged the fellow. 
“Why did you hit me?” the man asked.
The merchant replied, “I didn’t hit you. I’m not the same person who hit you. I have left the past behind me!” 

When Jesus washed his disciples' feet, he asked them, “Do you realize what I have done for you?” He wants us to remember that gesture tonight, and forever. It happened during his Last Supper, when everything he said and did had enormous significance. Details of the meal are recounted in all four gospels, and although the details are differently recorded, they are all important to us. 

He also said that evening, “Do this in memory of me.” I hear in those words the voice of a young man who knows his enemies have been making plans, and that he will die very soon. His disciples do not. They think they are celebrating the Passover, as they have done every year since anyone can remember. And as the Jews will continue to celebrate the Passover long after those disciples have died and been forgotten. We always remember the Passover; we never forget it. But should we remember Jesus of Nazareth every time we keep the Passover? 

By tomorrow evening, the Lord will have suffered his agony in Gethsemane, his arrest and trial, the scourging, and his passion and death. By this time tomorrow evening, he will be dead and buried. The disciples have no idea; but they hear him say, “You must do this in memory of me.’”

If you do nothing else; if you remember nothing else about me and my teaching, my birth in Bethlehem or childhood in Egypt and Galilee, the wonders you have seen, the healing miracles and exorcisms, the parables and predictions. If you remember nothing else, do this in memory of me – and I will be with you.

You must eat this bread; for it is not bread but my body. You must drink this wine; for it is not wine but my blood. And you must be servants and slaves of one another, washing one another’s feet. 

It doesn’t matter how many stories you tell, parables you recount, books you write, sermons you preach, movies you make, ballets you dance, or operas you sing. If you do not eat my flesh and drink my blood and wash one another’s feet, you will not remember me. You will not know me; you will have no part of me.

More than a thousand years before, Moses had warned his people, 

Take to heart these words which I command you today.

Keep repeating them to your children. Recite them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up.

Bind them on your arm as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead.

Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates.

Moses was facing the last days of his life and he knew that if the people did not take to heart these words, and repeat them to their children, and recite them at home and abroad, forever – then they might as well go back to Egypt and put their chains on again, and make bricks out of mud. The parting of the Red Sea and the destruction of the Egyptian army, and the manna they’d eaten, and the freedom: they’d been given meant nothing. 

In this 21st century we’re faced with the same challenge. We must keep this feast of Holy Thursday; the feast of our Holy Mass. We must eat his flesh and drink his blood and wash one another’s feet, and insist that our children and grandchildren do the same. Failing that, we might as well resume the life of consumers, workers, and soldiers. And we can watch our TV sports and soap operas and situation comedies; and brag about our grandchildren on social media. We can send migrants into concentration camps and fight our useless wars because nothing that Jesus did, or that our parents and grandparents did for two millennia will have made any difference. 

The Lord is with us tonight just as much and more than he was with us in the Upper Room on the night before he died. He speaks to us again, and commands us, 

You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’  and rightly so, for indeed I am.

If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet,

you ought to wash one another’s feet.

I have given you a model to follow,

so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

Wednesday of Holy Week

 Lectionary: 259

...woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It would be better for that man if he had never been born.”

Then Judas, his betrayer, said in reply, “Surely it is not I, Rabbi?”
He answered, “You have said so.”

The Lord said the same thing when "the high priest said to him, “I order you to tell us under oath before the living God whether you are the Messiah, the Son of God.”
"You have said so."

And when Pontius Pilate demanded “Are you the king of the Jews?”
Jesus said, “You say so.”

There seems little point in speaking the truth to liars. They would not know the truth if it bit them on the leg. They lie even when they think they're telling the truth because their eyes are blind; their ears, deaf; and their hearts, corrupt. 

Judas and Pilate, like the Pharaoh long before them, are left to their own devices; they have no guidance from God and can only pursue the path they see; that of evil. Such was God's design. Although there is no law which says they must sin and God does not command anyone to sin, they had neither the vision nor the power  to resist it. 

Saint Ignatius described the course of evil when he spoke of how good people are tempted by good. They find nothing attractive about evil and Satan doesn't waste his time making evil suggestions to them. Rather, he suggests good things like having more money is better than having less; and people are happier when you say this than when you say that. "So try to make more money, and tell people what they want to hear. Doesn't that make perfect sense?" 

Once they have set out on the path of not asking what God might want, they must inevitably follow the path of evil.

Satan cannot suggest that good people do God's will because he has no idea what that might be. Even when what he suggests happens to conform to God's plan -- as Judas, Pilate, and Pharaoh did -- neither he nor they can see where it leads. Their intent is to do evil, although they might deny that to themselves. They are completely confused; their minds are dark. 

Jesus knew what Judas' question meant. The man was lost and would not return. Judas had accepted thirty pieces of silver, and nothing the Lord might say would dissuade him from the course he'd set. The stage was set; the characters, in place; and their lines were memorized. They had only to begin acting. 

As we celebrate Holy Week, our course is also set. We must follow Him from the Upper Room into the courts of Caiaphas and Annas, Herod, and Pilate; and then to Calvary. Our hearts are set on following Him wherever He might lead.