In the New Testament, the kerygma
of the passion is always made up of two
elements: of a fact—he
“suffered” and “died”; and of the reason for
this fact—“for us,” “for our sins” (cf. 1
Corinthians 15:3; Romans 4:25). Christ’s
passion is ultimately unrelated to us unless
we enter into it through the narrow door of
this “for us,” because only he who
acknowledges that Christ’s passion is his work
really understands Christ’s passion.
Therefore, my personal sin was
also present in Gethsemane, weighing on the
heart of Jesus; on the cross, my egoism and my
abuse of freedom kept him nailed. If Christ
died “for my sins,” then—simply by making the
phrase active—I killed Jesus of Nazareth! The
three thousand whom Peter addressed at
Pentecost had not all been present in Pilate’s
praetorium or on Calvary hammering in the
nails, yet he lifted his voice and said to
them, “You crucified Jesus of Nazareth!” (cf.
Acts 2:23). And by the work of the Holy
Spirit, they acknowledged it was true, because
it is written, “They were cut to the heart,
and said to Peter and the rest of the
apostles, ‘Brethren, what shall we do?’ ”
(2:37).
“Were you there, were you there,
when they crucified my Lord?” says an
African-American spiritual full of faith. And
it goes on: “Sometimes it causes me to
tremble, tremble, tremble.” Every time I hear
this hymn, I am compelled to think, “Alas,
yes, I was also there, I was also there, when
they crucified my Lord!”
It is necessary that every man
experience an earthquake once in his lifetime
and that he experience in his heart something
similar to what happened in nature at the
moment of Christ’s death—the curtain of the
Temple was torn in two from top to bottom, the
rocks split, and the tombs were opened. It is
necessary that a holy fear of God once and for
all shatter our hearts, which are so
self-confident in spite of everything. Peter
the apostle experienced something like this,
and he was able to cry out those tremendous
words to the multitude because he had first
cried them to himself and had “wept bitterly”
when Jesus looked at him (Luke 22:62).
In the reading of the passion, we
hear these words from John’s Gospel: “They
shall look on him whom they have pierced”
(19:37). May this prophecy be realized in us
too; let us look on him whom we have pierced
and mourn for him as one mourns for an only
child (cf. Zechariah 12:10). If the world is
not converted by listening to us preachers of
the gospel, let it be converted by seeing us
weep and mourn!
Long for repentance
By resurrecting Jesus from the
dead, God transformed our greatest sins into
his greatest mercy. By killing Jesus, we have
killed our sins, which he had taken onto
himself. Only if the word “repentance” has
reached the bottom of our hearts shall we be
able to savor now the floods of light and love
enclosed in this joyful Easter message.
Whoever has been able to say in all sincerity,
“I killed Jesus of Nazareth” knows what it
means to be “born anew to a living hope
through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from
the dead” (1 Peter 1:3). It is like someone
being convinced that he has killed another
person, who flees in desperation, believing
there is no escape in this world for him, when
unexpectedly he hears that the person managed
to survive and has forgiven him and even wants
to be friends with him.
Sin itself holds no fear for us
because we no longer bear it by ourselves. He
was “raised for our justification” (Romans
4:25), that is, so that he could take our sins
and, in exchange, grant us his justice. A
repentant man has been “baptized into Jesus’
death” (6:3), and now it’s as if Jesus were
dragging him together with himself out of the
tomb and into a new life. “God, who is rich in
mercy, out of the great love with which he
loved us, even when we were dead through our
trespasses, made us alive together with
Christ” (Ephesians 2:4-5).
Perhaps you think this joyful
message is not for you because your veil hasn’t
been torn and your eyes haven’t overflowed with
tears of repentance. Don’t be sad and don’t
despair; this is God’s gift, and he can give it
to you from one minute to the next or gradually,
perhaps when you least expect it. Just persevere
untiringly in imploring him and desiring it,
just as I do. If you ardently long for
repentance, you have already repented! Let
yourself be born again to “a living hope,” and
begin to live your new life.
Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa,
O.F.M. Cap. (born July 22, 1934) is an
Italian Catholic priest in the Order
of Friars Minor Capuchin. He has
devoted his ministry to preaching and
writing. He is a Scripture scholar,
theologian, and noted author of
numerous books. Since 1980 he has
served as the Preacher to the Papal
Household under Pope John Paul II,
Pope Benedict XVI, and Pope Francis.
He is a noted ecumenist and frequent
worldwide speaker, and a member of the
Catholic Delegation for the Dialogue
with the Pentecostal Churches.