(Rom 5:8)
CRUCIFIXERUNT EUM
The Evangelists describe the most disturbing event in the history of the world in two or three words: “and they crucified him” (St. Mark and St. Matthew ), “there they crucified him” (St. Luke), “to crucify him” (St. John).The readers of the Gospels knew full well what these words meant. The torture of the cross, in fact, was considered to be so terrible as to be kept at a distance, “not only from the eyes but also from the ears of a Roman citizen” according to Cicero.
But that which characterized the Crucifixion of Our Lord was not only the intensity of the physical sufferings but also the passion – most sorrowful- of the soul. On several occasions the Gospels insist on the progressive abandonment of Jesus during the Passion: the abandonment of the crowd: “You will leave me alone” /Jn 16:32): then of the disciples: “Then all of the disciples forsook him and fled.” (Mt. 26:56, Mk 14:50) and finally of the Father Himself: "My God, my God why hast thou forsaken me?” (Mt. 27:46; Mk 15:34).
PROPTER NOS
In the Letter to the Romans, St. Paul marked the occurrence of the Passion by two elements: a fact: “He suffered” “died”; and the cause of the fact: “for us” “for our sins.” He was put to death, says the Apostle: “for our sins” (Rm 4:25).
By means of that “for us” (propter nos) the Passion of Christ – which would not otherwise have been related to us- enters into our life. And in order to understand well the terrible sufferings of the Saviour of the world, it is necessary to recognize that they are also our work. In other words, each one of us can say in all truthfulness: “I am Judas who betrays, Peter who denies, the crowd that cries out: “Barabbas, not him!” The saints have understood this truth well. Gemma Galgani – the angelic stigmatized Saint of Lucca - for example, turned to the Crucified One and said with sorrow: “I am a thousand times worse than the Jews, because I crucify You and I know who you are.”
But if Christ died “because of me and for my sins,” that means - turning the phrase simply to the active form - that I have killed Jesus of Nazareth, that my sins have crushed Him. It is precisely that which Peter proclaims forcefully to the three thousand listeners, on the day of Pentecost: “You have killed Jesus of Nazareth!” “You have denied the Holy and Righteous One!” (Acts 2:23; 3:14).
In truth those three thousand people were not all present on Calvary to hammer in the nails, nor were they in front of Pilate to ask that He be crucified. Therefore, they would have been well able to reply to St. Peter’s affirmation but instead they accepted the accusation and promptly said to the Apostles: “What are we to do, brothers?” (Acts 2:37). The Holy Spirit had enlightened them, making them understand that, if the Messiah died for sins and we have sinned, then we killed the Messiah. It is written that from the moment of the Death of Christ “the veil of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom; and the earth shook, and the rocks were split; the tombs were opened, and many of the bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised” (Mt. 27:51 ff.). These signs- apart from having a symbolical eschatological meaning – indicate that which must happen in the hearts of those who contemplate the Passion. St. Leo the Great writes: “May human nature tremble in the face of the tortures of the Redeemer, may the rocks of the unfaithful hearts break and may those who were enclosed in the tombs of their mortality come out, raising the stone which weighed down upon them.” It is the heart, therefore, which must break on contemplating the tortures of the Redeemer. It is written, in fact, that on that day: “the multitudes who assembled to see the sight, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts.” (Lk 23:48).
PRO NOBIS
But if one understands what the Passion really was, from a motive of fear and of sadness, a reason for exultation and certainty arises. If it is true that Christ has suffered propter nos, because of us, it is likewise true that He suffered pro nobis, in our favour. The Cross then becomes a motive for boasting and of glory. It is no longer “foolishness and scandal,” but, on the contrary, “the power of God and the wisdom of God,” to such a point that St. Paul, once an enemy of the Lord, can exclaim with joy: “Far be it from me to glory except in the cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ!” (Gal 6:14).
SPECIOSUS PRAE FILIIS HOMINUM
But the contemplation of the Divine Crucified One cannot remain only upon these objective considerations. In Him, in the Man of Golgotha, the figure of the “fairest of the sons of men” shines. (Ps 45:3). In his commentary on the First Letter of St. John, St. Augustine writes: “Two flutes are played in a different way, but it is one and the same Spirit which blows within them. The first says ‘He is the fairest of the sons of men’ and the second, with Isaiah says: ‘He had no form or comeliness that we should look at him, and no beauty that we could desire him’ (Isa 53:2). The two flutes are played by the same Spirit: they, therefore, do not cause disharmony… He had neither beauty nor decorum to give to your beauty and decorum. What beauty? What decorum? The love of charity, so that you run loving and love running…. Look at Him from Whom you have been made beautiful.”
For St. Augustine, therefore, it is the love with which Christ has loved us which transforms and transfigures Him: “A man of sorrows and as one from whom men hide their faces” (Is 53:3), into the “fairest of the sons of men” (Ps 45:2). Such beauty is reflected upon us in the measure in which we participate in His crucified Love.
Editorial from De vita Contemplativa, Franciscan Sisters of the Immaculate, Italy. [Translation: Contributor Francesca Romana]
