“The Face Of Christ, The Face Of Man”
(Editor’s Note: The following meditations for the Good Friday meditations in Rome were written by the Most Rev. Giancarlo Maria Bregantini, archbishop of Campobasso-Boiano, at the request of Pope Francis.
(Because of space limitations, The Wanderer is reprinting only the meditations for the final stations, those immediately dealing with Christ’s crucifixion and death. The full text is available at www.vatican.va; all rights reserved.)
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Tenth Station
Jesus is stripped of his garments
Unity and dignity
When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four parts, one for each soldier. They also took his tunic; now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. So they said to one another: “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see who will get it.” This was to fulfill what the Scripture says: “They divided my clothes among themselves, and for my tunic they cast lots.” And that is what the soldiers did (John 19:23-24).
They didn’t leave even a patch of cloth to cover Jesus’ body. They stripped him naked. He was without his cloak, his tunic, any garment whatsoever. They stripped him as an act of utter humiliation. He was covered only by the blood which flowed from his gaping wounds.
The tunic remained intact, a symbol of the Church’s unity, a unity found in patient journeying, in a peace that is crafted, in a tapestry woven with the golden threads of fraternity, in reconciliation and in mutual forgiveness.
In Jesus, innocent, stripped and tortured, we see the outraged dignity of all the innocent, especially the little ones. God did not prevent his naked body from being exposed on the cross. He did this in order to redeem every abuse wrongly concealed, and to show that he, God, is irrevocably and unreservedly on the side of victims.
Prayer
Lord Jesus,
we want to return to childlike innocence,
in order to enter the kingdom of heaven;
cleanse us of our uncleanness and our idols.
Take away our stony hearts which create divisions,
which damage the credibility of your Church.
Give us a new heart and a new spirit,
that we may live in accordance with your commands
and readily observe your laws. Amen.
Eleventh Station
Jesus is crucified
At the bedside of the sick
And they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take. It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him. The inscription of the charge against him read: “The King of the Jews.” And with him they crucified two thieves, one on his right and one on his left. And the Scripture was fulfilled that says: “And he was counted among the lawless” (Mark 15:24-28).
And they crucified him! The punishment reserved for the despicable, for traitors and rebellious slaves. This is the punishment meted out to our Lord Jesus: coarse nails, spasms of pain, the anguish of his mother, the shame of being associated with two thieves, his garments divided like spoils among the soldiers, the cruel jeers of passers-by: “He saved others; he cannot save himself. Let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him!” (Matt. 27:42).
And they crucified him! Jesus does not come down; he does not leave the cross. He stays there, obedient to the Father’s will to the very end. He loves and he forgives.
Today many of our brothers and sisters, like Jesus, are nailed to a bed of pain, at hospital, in homes for the elderly, in our families. It is a time of hardship, with bitter days of solitude and even despair: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46).
May we never use our hands to inflict harm, but only to draw near, to comfort and to accompany the sick, raising them from their bed of pain. Sickness does not ask permission. It always comes unannounced. At times it upsets us, it narrows our horizons, it tests our hope. It is a bitter gall. Only if we find at our side someone able to listen to us, to remain close to us, to sit at our bedside…can sickness become a great school of wisdom, an encounter with God, who is ever patient.
Whenever someone shares our infirmities out of love, even in the night of pain there dawns the paschal light of Christ, crucified and risen. What, in human terms, is a chastisement can become a redemptive oblation, for the good of our communities and our families. So it was for the saints.
Prayer
Lord Jesus,
never leave my side,
sit beside my bed of pain and keep me company.
Do not leave me alone, stretch out your hand and lift me up!
I believe that you are Love,
and I believe that your will is the expression of your Love;
so I abandon myself to your will,
for I put my trust in your Love. Amen.
Twelfth Station
Jesus dies on the cross
The seven last words
After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the Scripture): “I am thirsty.” A jar full of vinegar was standing there. So they put a sponge full of wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the vinegar, he said: “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit (John 19:28-30).
Jesus’ seven last words on the cross are the perfection of hope. Slowly, with steps that are also our own, Jesus traverses all the darkness of night and abandons himself trustingly into the arms of his Father. It is the cry of the dying, the groan of the despairing, the entreaty of the lost. It is Jesus!
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46). It is the cry of Job, of everyone struck by misfortune. And God is silent. He is silent because his response is there, on the cross: Jesus himself, the eternal Word who out of love became man; he is God’s answer.
“Remember me. . . .” (Luke 23:42). The fraternal plea of the thief, who became his companion in suffering, pierces Jesus’ heart; it is an echo of his own pain. And Jesus grants that request: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” The pain of others always redeems us, since it draws us out of ourselves.
“Woman, here is your son!. . .” (John 19:26). But it is his mother, Mary, who stood with John at the foot of the cross, who dispels all fear. She fills that scene with tenderness and hope. Jesus no longer feels alone. So it is with us, if beside our bed of pain there is someone who loves us! Faithfully. To the end.
“I am thirsty” (John 19:28). Like the child who asks his mother for drink, like the patient burning with fever….Jesus’ thirst is the thirst of all those who yearn for life, freedom, and justice. And it is the thirst of the one who is thirstiest of all: God, who, infinitely more than ourselves, thirsts for our salvation.
“It is finished” (John 19:30). Everything: every word, every action, every prophecy, every moment of Jesus’ life. The tapestry is complete. The thousand colors of love now shine forth in beauty. Nothing is wasted. Nothing thrown away. Everything has become love. Everything completed for me and for you! And so, even dying becomes meaningful!
“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Now, heroically, Jesus emerges from the fear of death. For if we live freely in love, everything is life. Forgiveness renews, heals, transforms, and comforts! It creates a new people. It ends wars.
“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46). No longer emptiness and anguish. But complete trust in the Father’s hands, complete repose in his heart. For in God, all the fragments at last come together to form a whole!
Prayer
O God, who in the passion of Christ our Lord
have set us free from death, the wages of our ancient sin,
inherited by the whole human race:
renew us in the image of your Son;
and as we have borne in ourselves, from birth,
the image of the earthly man,
grant that, by the working of your Spirit,
we may bear the image of the heavenly man.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Thirteenth Station
Jesus is taken down from the cross
Love is stronger than death
“When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him” (Matt. 27:57-58).
Before burial, Jesus is at last given back to his mother. She is the icon of a broken hearted, yet she tells us that death does not forbid a mother’s final kiss to her son. Bent over Jesus’ body, Mary is bound to him in a total embrace. This icon is known simply as Pietà — pity. It is heartrending, but it shows that death does not break the bond of love. For love is stronger than death! Pure love is the love that lasts. Evening has come. The battle is won. The bond of love has not been broken. Those who are prepared to sacrifice their life for Christ will find it. Transfigured, on the other side of death.
Tears and blood mingle in this tragic embrace. So it is in the lives of our families whenever we suffer an unexpected and grievous loss, an emptiness and a pain which cannot be soothed, especially at the death of a child.
“Pity” means being a neighbor to our brothers and sisters who grieve and cannot be consoled. It is great act of charity to care for those suffering from bodily wounds, from mental depression, from a despairing heart. To love to the very end is the supreme teaching which Jesus and Mary have left us. It is the daily fraternal mission of consolation which is entrusted to us in this faithful embrace of the dead Jesus and his sorrowful Mother.
Prayer
Virgin of Sorrows,
at our altars you show us your radiant face;
with eyes lifted up to heaven
and open hands,
you offer the Father, in a sign of priestly oblation,
the saving victim of your Son Jesus.
Show us the sweetness of that last faithful embrace
and grant us your maternal consolation,
that the sorrows of our daily lives
may never dim our hope of life beyond death. Amen.
Fourteenth Station
Jesus is laid in the tomb
The new garden
“Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. They laid Jesus there” (John 19:41-42).
That garden, with the tomb in which Jesus was buried, makes us think of another garden: the garden of Eden. A garden which through disobedience lost its beauty and became a wilderness, a place of death where once there was life.
The overgrown branches which block us from savoring the fragrance of God’s will — our attachment to money, our pride, our squandering of human lives — must now be trimmed back and grafted onto the wood of the Cross. This is the new garden: the cross planted upon the earth!
From on high, Jesus will now bring everything back to life. After his return from the pit of hell, where Satan had imprisoned so many souls, the renewal of all things will begin. His tomb represents the end of the old man. With Jesus, God has not allowed his children to be punished by a relentless death. In the death of Christ all the thrones of evil, built on greed and hardness of heart, are toppled.
Death disarms us; it makes us realize that we are subject here on earth to a life that will come to an end. And yet, before the body of Jesus, laid in the tomb, we come to realize who we really are. Creatures who, in order to escape death, need their Creator.
The silence which fills that garden enables us to hear the whisper of a gentle breeze: “I am the Living One and I am with you” (cf. Exodus 3:14). The curtain of the temple is torn in two. At last we see our Lord’s face. And we know fully his name: mercy and faithfulness. We will never be confounded, even in the face of death, for the Son of God was free among the dead (cf. Psalm 88:6 Vg.).
Prayer
Protect me, God: for in you I take refuge.
You are my portion and cup,
my life is in your hands.
I keep you ever before me, for you are my God.
You stand at my right hand; I shall not waver.
And so my heart is glad and my soul rejoices;
my body also rests secure.
For you do not leave my life among the dead,
or let your servant go down into the pit.
You will show me the path of life,
fullness of joy in your presence,
happiness for ever at your right hand. Amen. (cf. Psalm 15)
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(© 2014 Libreria Editrice Vaticana)
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