Palm Sunday – Year C

 

 

WHY MUST HE DIE TO SAVE US?


 

Introduction

For those who have internalized a devotional image of Jesus, it is hard to understand why he was killed. How can people become enemies of the man who cares for the sick, embraces and caresses children, loves the poor, and defends the weak? Seen in this light, his death is an inexplicable fact attributed to a mysterious will of the Father who, to forgive the sin of people, needed to see the blood of the righteous flow. This interpretation is hard to accept.

With deep sorrow, we recall the absurd attribution of this death to the Jewish people and the inflicted beatings and the cross to the Jews during the processions on Good Friday. So why did Jesus die? In what sense has he sacrificed his life for us? From what slavery has he freed us, surrendering himself to those who nailed him to the cross? The hostility against him is that he appeared as the light of the world (Jn 9:5). “The light shines in darkness, light that darkness could not overcome” (Jn 1:4-5). “He was the true light that enlightens everyone” (Jn 1:9), “and people loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (Jn 3:19).

Some rays of this light that pierced the darkness of the world have been particularly intense. These rays penetrate the heart of simple people, showering them with joy and hope. Still, they are blinded, annoyed, and become unbearable to the troubled eyes of others (and this dramatic story can be repeated today). In particular:

• Jesus has proposed a new face of God. No longer an executing God, but a God who saves every person.
• He has proposed a new face of man. He overturned the values ​​of this world: for him, a person’s greatness is not in control and domination but true service of one’s brothers and sisters.
• He has proposed a new religion, no longer one of rituals, but that ‘in spirit and truth.’
• He proposed a new society where the ‘first’ is the poor, the weak, and the marginalized.

Jesus has not sought death on the cross, but to avoid it, he would have to renounce all these proposals, join the ranks of his contemporaries, shut his mouth, adapt to the existing mentality, resign himself to the triumph of evil, and abandon people forever in the hands of the “prince of this world.” He would have to return to Nazareth and build tables and plows. Then, they would have left him alone. He would not have been crucified but would have been adorned with honors. He would have made a career in an official religious institution … being part of “kingdoms of this world” that Satan had promised from the beginning. But that would be the failure of his mission.

During this week, we are not invited to grieve and mourn the death of Jesus but to rejoice in the freedom that he has realized by giving his life. We also try to question ourselves: indeed, have we really entered the new reality born of his sacrifice? Let us ask ourselves if we have accepted his kingdom, assimilating the new face of God, the new religion, the new face of a man, and the new society proposed by him.

 

• To internalize the message, we repeat:

“Like what every apostle did at the Last Supper, during this week I also ask myself:

‘Is it I, Lord, the one who opposes your kingdom?’”

 

First Reading: Isaiah 50:4-7

The Lord God has given me a well-trained tongue, that I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them. Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear; and I have not rebelled, have not turned back. I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.

The Lord God is my help, therefore I am not disgraced; I have set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame. —The Word of the Lord.

 

Explaining the First Reading of the Feast of Baptism of the Lord, we talked about the mysterious character who comes into the scene in the second part of the book of Isaiah. He is the ‘Servant of the Lord.’ In today’s reading, this ‘Servant’ reappears and speaks. He initially describes the mission given to him. He is sent to proclaim a message of consolation to the downtrodden and to those who lost hope. (v. 4). From his lips always come words of comfort for those lost in evil ways, those unable to return to the right way, and those who grope in darkness.

He then clarifies how he will fulfill his mission (vv. 4-5). The Lord gave him an ear to listen and a mouth to speak. Since what this Servant heard was not pleasant, his first reaction was to withdraw, renounce, and find a justification to disappear (v. 5). He did not disappear. He knew how to resist.

Finally, he recounts what happened to him and what were the consequences of his faithfulness. He faithfully communicated the message he heard. He was beaten, insulted, slapped, spat in the face but did not react. He continued to trust in the Lord (v. 7).

Listening particularly to the last part of the reading, one is spontaneously induced to take this Servant as Jesus (Christians have made this link immediately after Easter). As “Servant of the Lord,” Jesus kept listening to the Father and spoke only words of consolation and hope. He gave comfort to the disheartened and marginalized. He died like the Servant spoken of in the book of Isaiah (cf. Mt 27:27-31).

The risk is to pause to contemplate and admire the faithfulness of Jesus, to be moved in the face of what he has suffered, to feel outraged at the injustice he went through, and to conclude that, even today, some heroes faithful to God can repeat the same dramatic experience of the Servant of the Lord.

Not any hero, but every believer is called to carry out the mission of the ‘Servant’ of Christ: to keep listening to the Word of God, to translate into action what was heard, and be willing to bear the consequences.

 

Second Reading: Philippians 2:6-11

Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. —The Word of the Lord.

 

The community of Philippi was outstanding, and Paul was proud of them. However, as it often happens, there was a bit of envy among Christians. Some were trying to attract attention to themselves and impose their will on others. This situation caused Paul to make a heartfelt recommendation in the first part of the letter: “Make me very happy; have one love, one spirit, one feeling; do nothing through rivalry or vain conceit. Do not seek your own interest but rather that of others” (Phil 2:2-4).

To better impart this teaching to the Philippians, Paul presents the example of Christ. He does this by quoting a beautiful hymn known in many Christian communities of the first century. The hymn tells the story of Jesus in two stanzas.

He already existed before becoming man. Becoming incarnate, ‘he emptied himself’ of his divine greatness. He accepted to take on the nature of a slave of death. He was not clothed in our humanity as an outer garment that he could get rid of. He assumed our human likeness forever: weakness, ignorance, fragility, passions, feelings, and the human condition. He appeared to our eyes in the humility of the most despised of men, a slave, one to whom the Romans reserved the ignominious punishment of the cross (vv. 6-8). But the path he has traveled has not ended with the humiliation and death on the cross.

The second part of the hymn (vv. 9- 11) sings the glory he is raised: the Father raised and appointed him a model for every person. He gave him the power and dominion over all creation. The entire humanity will finally be united with him, and then the plan of God will be accomplished.

 

Gospel: Luke 22:14–23:56

(Short Form) Luke (23:1-49)

 

The elders of the people, chief priests and scribes, arose and brought Jesus before Pilate. They brought charges against him, saying,

“We found this man misleading our people; he opposes the payment of taxes to Caesar and maintains that he is the Christ, a king.”

Pilate asked Jesus,

“Are you the king of the Jews?”

Jesus said to him in reply,

“You say so.”

Pilate then addressed the chief priests and the crowds,

“I find this man not guilty.”

But they were adamant and said,

“He is inciting the people with his teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to here.”

 

On hearing this, Pilate asked if Jesus was a Galilean; and upon learning that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction, Pilate sent him to Herod, who was in Jerusalem at that time. Herod was very glad to see Jesus; he had been wanting to see Jesus for a long time, for he had heard about Jesus and had been hoping to see Jesus perform some sign. He questioned Jesus at length, but Jesus gave no answer. The chief priests and scribes, meanwhile, stood by accusing Jesus harshly.

Herod and his soldiers treated Jesus contemptuously and mocked him, and after clothing him in resplendent garb, Herod sent Jesus back to Pilate. Herod and Pilate became friends that very day, even though they had been enemies formerly.

Pilate then summoned the chief priests, the rulers, and the people and said to them,

“You brought this man to me and accused him of inciting the people to revolt. I have conducted my investigation in your presence and have not found this man guilty of the charges you have brought against him, nor did Herod, for Herod sent him back to us. So no capital crime has been committed by him. Therefore I shall have him flogged and then release him.”

 

But all together they shouted out,

“Away with this man! Release Barabbas to us.”

Now Barabbas had been imprisoned for a rebellion that had taken place in the city and for murder.

Again Pilate addressed them, still wishing to release Jesus, but they continued their shouting,

“Crucify him! Crucify him!”

Pilate addressed them a third time,

“What evil has this man done? I found him guilty of no capital crime. Therefore I shall have him flogged and then release him.”

With loud shouts, however, they persisted in calling for Jesus’ crucifixion, and their voices prevailed. The verdict of Pilate was that their demand should be granted. So Pilate released the man who had been imprisoned for rebellion and murder, for whom they asked, and Pilate handed Jesus over to them to deal with as they wished.

As they led Jesus away they took hold of a certain Simon, a Cyrenian, who was coming in from the country; and after laying the cross on him, they made him carry it behind Jesus. A large crowd of people followed Jesus, including many women who mourned and lamented him. Jesus turned to them and said,

“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep instead for yourselves and for your children. For indeed, the days are coming when people will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed.’ At that time people will say to the mountains, ‘Fall upon us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’ For if these things are done when the wood is green what will happen when it is dry?”

Now two others, both criminals, were led away with Jesus to be executed.

 

When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified Jesus and the criminals there, one on his right, the other on his left. Then Jesus said,

“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”

They divided his garments by casting lots. The people stood by and watched; the rulers, meanwhile, sneered at Jesus and said.

“He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God.”

Even the soldiers jeered at Jesus. As they approached to offer him wine they called out,

“If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.”

Above Jesus there was an inscription that read, “This is the King of the Jews.”

Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying,

“Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.”

The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply,

“Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.”

Then he said,

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Jesus replied to him,

“Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

 

It was now about noon and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon because of an eclipse of the sun. Then the veil of the temple was torn down the middle. Jesus cried out in a loud voice,

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

And when Jesus had said this he breathed his last.

(Here all kneel and pause for a short time.)

 

The centurion who witnessed what had happened glorified God and said,

“This man was innocent beyond doubt.”

When all the people who had gathered for this spectacle saw what had happened, they returned home beating their breasts; but all his acquaintances stood at a distance, including the women who had followed Jesus from Galilee and saw these events. —The Gospel of the Lord.

 

All the evangelists devote so much space to the passion and death of Jesus. The following outline and the facts are basically the same, though narrated in different ways and through diverse perspectives. Each evangelist then puts in episodes the details and underscores some aspects as their own. These reveal the care and interest for some themes of catechesis, considered significant and urgent for their communities. Today’s version of the story of the passion being proposed to us is that of Luke. In our commentary, we will only highlight the specific aspects particular to Luke.

In his Gospel, Luke never lets the opportunity to emphasize the goodness and mercy of Jesus slip. He does so even during the passion. Self-defense is the instinctive reaction in the face of an attacker who wants to kill. If, during a scuffle, a mobster had the worse and was injured, many rejoice, and some would be disappointed if someone rescued him.

The reaction against the aggressor is spontaneous, understandable, and justified from the human point of view. In the Garden of Olives, the apostles reacted in the same way. To prevent the abuse of power, violence, and injustice, the first thing they think of is raising the sword. The phrase: ‘Lord, shall we strike with the sword?’ In the original text is not presented as a question but as a decision: “Lord, we now have recourse to the sword.” And indeed, before waiting for the opinion of the Master, one of them goes to blows and cuts off the right ear of the high priest’s servant (Lk 22:49-51).

Jesus intervenes and severely rebukes Peter for the rash action done. Then—and this is the detail only Luke mentions—he takes care of the wounded and healed him (Lk 22:51). The message that the evangelist wants to give is clear: the disciple should be non-violent and remedy the troubles caused by others.

A Christian invariably has opponents; however, like the Master, he must deal—in the hard way—with those who make choices of death, deform the face of God, pursue an unacceptable project of man and society. But a Christian has no enemies. An enemy must be annihilated, crushed, humiliated, and eliminated. A Christian does not destroy his opponent but helps him grow and break free from his bondage. Weapons are used by those who have enemies to defeat, not by those who transform adversaries into brothers and sisters as their only mission.

A little further on, we find another touching detail. As Mark and Matthew, Luke also says that, after denying the Master in the high priest’s house, Peter went out and wept. He alone notes that the Lord turned and looked at Peter (Lk 22:61-62), and he uses the Greek word ‘emblepo’ (look inside) and not ‘blepo’ (see).

Jesus’ gaze is moving; it is not a reproach but a gesture of sympathy for the weakness of his disciple. We consider the outward action, the cowardly gesture, and the vile words of Peter. Jesus, as he usually does, looks inside, sees the heart of his disciple, and discovers what he does; yes, a cowardly act, but deep down, he loves him and remains faithful. Stressing this look, Luke indicates to Christians of all times how they should consider their own and their brothers’ fragility: they are looked at through Jesus’ eyes; eyes that instill confidence and hope, eyes that discover, even in the biggest sinner, a spark of love and help him to restart.

During the passion, the disciples do not make a good impression: Judas betrays, Peter denies, and all the others flee (Mk 14:50). The evangelists point to this vile behavior. Only Luke seeks to attenuate the responsibility of the apostles. He does not mention their flight; in fact, he says that, on Calvary, “all his acquaintances stood at a distance” (Lk 23:49). He does not relate the reproach of Jesus to Peter: “Simon, are you sleeping? Could you not stay awake for one hour?” (Mk 14:37). He also finds an excuse to explain their sleep: “They were worn out of grief” (Lk 22:45).

Luke is the example of the shepherd of souls who, while not justifying sin, understands it, attributes it to ignorance and human misery that unites us all. He does not emphasize the mistake done; does not accuse because he knows that the one humiliated and ashamed, who does not feel welcomed and respected, ends up dangerously withdrawing to oneself and makes any way to recovery impossible. Some martyrs died despising their killers and threatening on them the vengeance of heaven: “do not think that you are going to remain unpunished!”—says one of the Maccabees to his executioner (2 Mac 7:19).

The disciple of Christ does not know this language; there is no swearing, cursing, or invoking of punishments against those who do evil (Lk 6:27-36). Even in the most dramatic moments, he just says words of love. This attitude is the only one compatible with that of the Master. He—says Peter in his letter to the persecuted Christians of his community—”did not return insult for insult and, when suffering, he did not curse”(1P 2:23).

In the passion narrative, Luke relates a phrase that every disciple must keep in mind when he is called to bear with injustice, oppression, and harassment. Only Luke records that, moments before his death on the cross, Jesus still has the strength to say: “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing” (Lk 23:34). He was not referring to the soldiers, intent on dividing his garments, but the real culprits for his death: the religious authorities of his people. Jesus did not limit himself to ordering his people always to forgive unconditionally, but he set the example. It will be imitated by Stephen, the first martyr who, on bended knees under the blows of stones hurled at him, will cry out loud: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:60).

We all know by heart the story of the institution of the Eucharist: we hear it repeated at every Mass. Perhaps not all of us know that only Luke refers to the Lord’s order: “Do this in memory of me” (Lk 22:19). Undoubtedly Jesus wanted that the rite of the breaking of bread and sharing the cup repeated over the centuries by the Christian communities, but his words are not only an invitation to repeat his act liturgically. The “breaking of bread,” for Jesus, has an extraordinary symbolic value. In it, he wanted his whole self, broken and given to people, summarized and represented.

“Do this in memory of me” is an invitation to assume his own self. Only the one who enters into this logic of the Master, only the one who, like him, breaks oneself for others, can ‘break the bread of the Eucharist’ with the purity of heart. Otherwise, repetition of the liturgical gesture is reduced to an empty and sometimes even a hypocritical ritual.
What is the cancer that destroys our communities? It is the frenzy to occupy the first places, be superior, dominate, impose upon the other, and receive privileges and honorary titles. This desire provokes envy, criticism, gossip, petty divisions, and discords among Christians.

This disease is not just of today. The Gospels report several unpleasant incidents, frequent and petty arguments among the apostles, eager to define their priorities and determine who was the greatest among them. They did not in any way accept the proposal of the Master to be small, take the last place, be at the service of the poorest, and become slaves of others.

How do Christians understand that this teaching of Jesus is the fundamental principle upon which the community is built? Luke has an idea: to present this theme at the Last Supper (Lk 22:24-27). Placed in this context, the Master’s words take on a maximum value: they become his testament and final appeal. Therefore, they should be regarded as sacred and inviolable. Who of us would dare not to fulfill the death wish of our father?

After the institution of the Eucharist—Luke says—the apostles began to argue because each of them wanted to be first. Jesus then took the floor and explained that, in the new community, the authority was not to be understood according to the world’s criteria. What do the leaders of nations do? They have the power; they command over others, accumulate money, demand greater respect, and claim privileges. This should not be so in the Church! In her, the authority is for service. To serve does not mean to decide on behalf of others, impose one’s way of thinking, and force others to do what one believes is right. This is still domination. To serve means to occupy the last place, respect, dialogue, understand, and find for each a ministry to be carried out with joy for the greater benefit of brothers and sisters.

To us, the term agony signifies the last moments before Jesus’ death. Its etymological meaning, however, is different. It indicates the fight, the resilience of athletes, and the Gospel story uses the term in this sense. At the beginning of his public life, Jesus confronted in combat the forces of evil—Satan—and he won. But the fight did not end after the first clash. Luke notes that “when the devil had exhausted every way of tempting Jesus, he left him, to return another time” (Lk 4:13). Here, in fact, at the beginning of the story of the passion, the enemy returns for the final assault: “the feast of unleavened bread was drawing near … Then Satan entered Judas.” The forces of evil are embodied in one of the twelve apostles and unleash the offensive.

Jesus, as every athlete before the battle, must prepare himself and Luke—more than the other evangelists—emphasizes how he prepares himself: with prayer. The story of the agony begins with Jesus’ recommendation to the disciples: “Pray that you may not be put to the test,” then “he went away a little further and kneeling down, he prayed… Having entered in agony he prayed more earnestly … Then he rose from prayer … And he said the disciples: Get up and pray” (Lk 22:39-46). He insists on the importance of prayer to obtain victory.

In this context, Luke introduces some essential details. He first says that “an angel from heaven appeared to give him strength” (v. 43). It is the effect of prayer. When the Bible speaks of angels, one must not immediately think of spiritual beings who take human form. They often indicate a revelation of God to the person. In Gethsemane, Jesus was tempted to escape and choose a different path than the Father envisaged. Prayer—the dialogue with the Father—made him understand his death’s meaning and value. He asked the Father to take the cup from him, and his prayer was answered: he was not spared from suffering and death but was enlightened and supported by the Spirit. He obeyed the Father unconditionally.

Luke wants to tell every disciple the need to pray ‘intensely,’ like the Master, so as not to be overwhelmed by temptation and overcome human weakness and fragility. Luke, the physician, notes another detail: “As he was in agony, he prayed even more earnestly, and great drops of blood formed like sweat and fell to the ground” (v. 44). The traditional interpretation of sweating blood is because of Jesus’ discouragement. But this does not make sense after the consolation given to him by the angel. The phenomenon (hemarthrosis)—known in antiquity—the evangelist assumes, is significantly tied to competitive sports: It indicates the tension of the athlete in the vicinity of the race. Luke wants to tell us that Jesus is very focused; he sweats and is seized by trembling. Jesus knows that he will deal with “a strong man, well-armed,” but he also knows to be infinitely stronger (Lk 11:21-22).

There is another episode that only Luke relates: Jesus’ encounter with Herod. He was the son of the famous Herod who had ordered the killing of the children of Bethlehem (Mt 2:16). He was neither a shrewd politician nor a maniac like his father. He was weak and corrupt, a man with no personality. Several times he had heard of Jesus and the miracles he performed. He imagined that he was a sorcerer, a soothsayer, an expert in the occult arts. When, during the passion, Pilate sends Jesus to him to hear his opinion about the accusations against him, Herod rejoices immensely. He hopes to see some miracle. To him, Jesus, however, does not answer even a single word. Why? The emphases on Herod’s moods are significant: first, he feels a “great joy” (v. 8), then, after the disappointment at not getting what he expected (v. 9), he insults and finally mocks (v. 11). The Greek word translated ‘to insult’ really means ‘to destroy.’ For Herod, who was only interested in miracles (Lk 9:9), Jesus does not count as anyone.

Luke wants to warn those who seek Jesus only as a wonderworker will not receive any response. They will not find what they are looking for because he does not lend himself to this game. Christianity is the place of listening to the Word, is the religion of love and the gift of life for the brothers and sisters, not a market where you can buy favors. Jesus calls those who think this way: “Evil and unbelieving people” (Mt 16:4).

Luke is the evangelist, who, more than the others, speaks of women who, during the public life, accompanied the Master (Lk 8:1-3). He is also the only one who says that, along the way to Calvary, Jesus meets a group of women who weep and beat their breasts (Lk 23:27-31). They are not responsible for what is happening; they grieve for the sins of others. Stressing this, Luke wants to, once again, focus on the defense of the weak, those who pay the consequences of the sins of others. The men, many times, create disasters, unleash wars, provoke violence, and the women bear the consequences.

All the evangelists say that Jesus was crucified along with two bandits. They were not petty thieves but criminals who had killed people. Matthew and Mark report that both insulted Jesus. Luke, instead, tells the fact differently. He says one outraged him, but the other did not; indeed, he reproached his companion and, calling Jesus by name, prayed: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The dying Lord answered him: “Truly you will be with me today in paradise” (Lk 23:42-43).

At the beginning of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus manifests himself to the shepherds: the last, the despised, and the unclean of Israel. Then he spent his public life among tax collectors, sinners, and prostitutes. And at the end, he is among those condemned to die; not with the saints. Also, at the end—it was to be expected—he is among those he most loved: the sinners. On the cross, he has beside him two men who had done it all wrong in their lives. He came from God, completed his pilgrimage on this earth, and now returns to the Father. He returns with a representative of the people he served: a sinner regained by his love.