Archbishop of Sydney

Good Friday

St Mary’s Cathedral, Sydney
and at the annual Italian procession of the Crucified Christ and The Mother of Sorrows, at St. Brigid’s Church Marrickville
Is 52:13-53:12; Heb 4:14-16, 5:7-9; Jn 18:1-19:42

By + Cardinal George Pell
Archbishop of Sydney
6/4/2007

Last night on ABC Radio with Richard Glover, Archbishop Jensen and myself retold the story of the passion and resurrection.  Even before the 25 minutes segment ended listeners were phoning to say they liked it.  Glover himself is not a believer, but he acknowledged that Jesus’ story is powerful and also central to understanding Australian life and indeed Western civilization.  However a number of people phoned in to object, citing a variety of reasons.  Some were irritated, others, perhaps, were even more strongly opposed.

We had done nothing other than restate the story and some of the more basic of Christ’s teachings, but that was enough.  Jesus’ message is reassuring to most people, but it remains divisive.

A Creator God who will judge us.  This notion is a provocation, even an insult to those who want to make their own laws and answer to no one.  But a God, or rather the Son of the one God, who suffers, is capable of feeling weakness just as we do, who learnt to obey through suffering and was finally beaten, killed on the cross, is another type of provocation.  Do we want a god as weak as this?  Do we want a Son of God, who even in his weakness, can bring out the bad (and the worst) in some people, lay bare the elemental struggle between good and evil, which is always being played out beneath the surface and occasionally boils up viciously.

We might spend a few moments on this Good Friday examining the personality and motivation of Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve apostles, who betrayed Jesus with a kiss.

What made him tick?  What prompted this gross disloyalty?  The gospel of John (c12v6) tells us he looked after the money and was a thief.  Why didn’t he simply steal the money and leave the group?  We can only conjecture on scant evidence.

Worldly wise people tell us that generally when we are seeking the reason behind the action and the alternatives are a schemozzle, bad luck and incompetence on the one hand or a criminal conspiracy on the other, the good money will opt for the schemozzle as an explanation.  But that theory won’t work here.

Our Lord himself prayed from the cross that his enemies be forgiven because they did not know what they were doing and I wonder how far this applies to Judas.  Certainly it is not the whole story.

We can understand Judas being disappointed if he had political ambitions for Jesus and himself, as many Jews misunderstood Jesus in this way.  Judas might even have been disgusted when he realised Jesus was a loser, but he must have come to hate Jesus sufficiently to become central to the conspiracy to kill him.  He had been a follower and friend of Our Lord, a trusted official.  He did not just abandon ship, but led the attack.

Long journeys start with small steps and this promising young idealist was dragged deeper and deeper into the pit of evil.  He never escaped it as he could not bring himself to ask pardon (as Peter did for his triple denial of Christ) and committed suicide.

The struggle between good and evil still continues in thousands of small and large ways and Judas will always be remembered as a traitor; and as a warning to us to choose always to remain on the right side in the struggle between good and evil.

The first reading this afternoon from the Old Testament prophet Isaiah about a despised and rejected figure, disfigured and inhuman, who made people shield their faces reminds us that the crucifixion was not pretty.  In fact crucifixions were appalling events and the gospel accounts treat the deaths of Jesus and the two thieves with restraint and discretion.

I think I was a seminarian when I first saw a copy of the painting of the crucifixion by the German artist Matthias Grunewald.  My first reaction was shock and to conclude that Grunewald did not believe Jesus was divine.  He looked so awful.

The women and John are distraught below a huge figure of Christ on a rough wooden cross, with large nails piercing his shockingly distorted fingers and hands.  Christ’s head has fallen awkwardly, his mouth is open, face blotched and his body is covered with ugly spines or black spots, probably from the scourging.

I long thought that this was a Protestant painting but in fact it was a product of the Catholic world painted between 1510-1516 (Luther’s Reformation only began in 1517) and commissioned for a hospital in Isenheim run by the Antonine monks.

The monks looked after lepers and victims of the recurrent plagues, epidemics of St. Anthony’s fire and ergotism, where the skin itched and burned, before turning black and gangrenous, often producing excruciating pain and hallucinations.

This crucifixion painting was part of a folding altarpiece which also contained beautiful images of Jesus’ entombment and a spectacular resurrection.

I think we can only try to imagine what life was like before modern medicine, but those poor victims were consoled by the image of Jesus suffering, as well as by the promise of their resurrection following his prototype.

There are different moments in the narrative of the passion.  In the beautiful crucifix opposite the pulpit here in the Cathedral all the paraphernalia of suffering are there, crown, nails, wounds, but Jesus is in repose, beyond pain which can no longer touch him.  This is a consoling and in a certain sense, an easy crucifixion.

We have commissioned a new crucifix for the seminary chapel which will show Jesus dying, rather than beyond the clutches of death.  I am not sure everyone will like it as we can be tempted to pass over Jesus’ death agony too quickly.  This is a mistake, because the horror has a purpose which is to help us understand the theology of the Cross, the extent of God’s love.

In the shadow of the Cross may we see more clearly into our own hearts, and see more clearly into the causes of good and evil in our society, so that we can do our bit to make up what is lacking in the suffering of Christ and bring more and more of the fruits of redemption into Australian life, into our homes, families, workplaces and local communities.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.