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| Pope Francis during the Passion Sunday celebration |
Readings for Sunday, April 13/ Palm Sunday:
Isaiah 50:4-7
Psalm 22:8-9, 17-20, 23-24
Philippians 2:6-11
Matthew 26:14-27:66
When Jesus came to
Golgatha,
They hanged Him on a
tree,
They drove great
nails through hands and feet,
And made a Calvary.
They crowned Him with
a crown of thorns,
Red were His wounds
and deep,
For those were crude
and cruel days,
And human flesh was
cheap.
When Jesus came to
Birmingham
They simply passed
Him by,
They never hurt a
hair of Him,
They only let Him
die;
For men have grown
more tender,
And they would not
give Him pain,
They only just passed
down the street,
And left Him in the
rain.
Still Jesus cried,
'Forgive them,
For they know not
what they do!
And still it rained
the winter rain
That drenched Him
through and through;
The crowd went home
and left the streets
Without a soul to
see,
And Jesus crouched
against a wall
And cried for
Calvary.
This poem entitled ‘Indifference’
was written by G.A. Studdert-Kennedy
in the early 20th Century as an indictment on a culture that
had lost its passion and a people whose heart had grown cold. The same could
well be said of our society today. We are one in which things are ‘better’ now
than ever before and we would never do something as bad as crucify someone.
We’re more civilized than that.
Blessed John Paul II often spoke
in his reflections and homilies that the opposite of love is not hatred but
indifference. Listen again. The opposite of love is not hatred but
indifference. Jesus Himself says in the Gospels that we should be either hot or
cold, for if we are lukewarm we will be spat out, rejected. In the Passion
narrative we just prayed together, we heard a whole variety of voices. We heard
the voice of Love Himself in the person of Jesus. We hear echoes of His love in
the quiet presence of the Blessed Mother, St. Mary Magdalene, the others with
them at the Cross, Simon of Cyrene and the like. We also heard those voices of
hatred. The blistery words of Judas, the voices of the high priests, Sanhedrin,
and elders, as well as the bloodthirsty crowd crying out for the death of the
Christ. “Crucify Him! Let his blood be upon us and our children!” They were not
content with scourging, beatings, or mockeries. Death on the Cross, and that
alone, would quench their thirst. But then there is also another group here in
the midst of the story that we often over look – the silent majority.
We don’t understand the magnitude
of the city of Jerusalem. Jewish Historians recount that during the week of
Passover, well over 500,000 Passover lambs were slain in the Temple and as the
Gospel hinted at, each lamb required to men to prepare it for the meal. That
means that over 1 million men had travelled to Jerusalem, many of them bringing
other family or friends along with them, and that number being in addition to
the community already dwelling there. This means that like 2 million or more
people were around the city when the Lord entered in the triumphal procession
and was later crucified. Where were their voices in the story? They were not
hot or cold, but lukewarm. They weren’t angry enough to hate Jesus, nor were
they strong enough to love Him. So they simply passed Him by, unaware that
their salvation was right before them.
The Passion narrative is a
lengthy one and there is much there to ponder. It’s not meant to be something
we read once a year and are done with it. We should come back to it regularly,
but especially in this Holy Week of preparation for the Sacred Triduum and
Easter. So that’s what I invite you to do. Take up this Gospel passage each day
this week and read through it as you ask yourself the question: Where am I in
here? Where is my voice? Am I full of love for the Lord? Am I full of hatred
for some reason? Has my heart grown cold such that Jesus doesn’t really have an
impact upon my life? Where am I in here? Where is my voice?
O Good Jesus, let your Precious
Blood truly be upon us, not to condemn us, but to heal us and save us.
