The Shadows of the Passion
By Carolyn Ferguson
It's hard to walk with Jesus during Holy Week. It's tough to put yourself in the mindset of John or the Blessed Mother. But the more shadowy figures…?
Pontius Pilate's skepticism is so jarring in this moment when action and faith are so pivotal in the unfolding drama: "What is truth?" Beauty is universally easy to recognize. Goodness is easy to claim. But truth...? Here's the thing: Pilate knew the truth. He believed Jesus was innocent, but he didn't want to stand up for it. So he passed it off to the people. And they chose Barrabas.
The abuse of power makes me sick, and Pilate plays the game: "Are you the King of the Jews? What authority do you have? What power?" And then he literally washes his hands clean, as if that's all it takes to move on.
Can't you imagine the Blessed Mother in the crowd, searing Pilate with her red rimmed eyes, silently begging him to "do something,” heart in her throat as it all rapidly begins... How often are we like Pontus Pilate, how often do we not stand up for what is right because of fear of what others may think? How often do we sin by allowing paralysis to numb our bodies from doing what’s right? How often do we question the truth but close our hearts off to the answers right before our eyes?
Listen to the side voice, begging you to free the man. Close your eyes and listen to what is being asked of you, in this moment. And then? Act.
There should have been a Saint Judas.
That's something my priest has said several times in his homilies this week, and each time I'm struck by it. What if someone said "There should have been a Saint Carolyn. There should have been a Saint Marley. There should have been a Saint Violet." In Dante's Inferno, Judas is at the center of Hell and he's constantly being torn apart by a great Beast. He's a traitor, and his debauchery seems extra sinister because he was first Jesus' friend. He's a figure that makes us uncomfortable because maybe we see a little bit of ourselves in him...a mistake, a vice.
But have you ever looked at how Jesus actually treats him? At the Last Supper, if we take a look at His words and actions, we can deduce that Jesus actually had Judas next to him. He kept him close. He gave him a chance all the way until the end. And he didn't name drop him either when he said, "One of you will betray me." Do we treat others with the same respect that Jesus showed even Judas?
Wednesday of Holy Week is considered Spy Wednesday because of Judas's prominent role in the scripture readings. As we enter into Triduum, let's take a moment and reflect on all the figures who played a part in the Passion. Even Judas.
The Roman Empire was one of the most cut-throat, brutal, and power hungry empires that has ever existed...and that was the time God chose to send His Son.
It’s hard to wrap our minds around the savagery of Roman Soldiers who slaughtered infants and mocked and played with the condemned as they bled out, especially as someone who can’t stomach a splinter, with maternal nature or feminine intuition...How can we possibly relate to these guys? Well, what if the Roman Soldiers are now coming for us? What if our souls look the same way Jesus’ body did every time they catch up to us and we fall to sin? What if when we fall to the dis-order of sin, those wounds happen internally? What if our souls are thrashed and whipped to a whimpering pulp? And what if this raw interior mess is what hurts Jesus the most as He hangs suspended on a Cross, exposing his wounds to heal our hidden ones?
And then there was me. You. Us. We also played an ugly role in Christ's crucifixion.
We may not have been there, and our names aren't recorded in scripture, but our hands are also stained red. Our cheeks are also scarlet at realizing the wrongs we have done. Our minds are also scorched a dark vermillion—like dried blood—from paralyzing fear, from corrupted power, from tepid courage. Our sins are also taken up on the Cross.
We are amongst Judas, Pilate, the Soldiers, the sleeping apostles, Barabbas, the condemning crowd, the uninterested wayfarers...and we are just as guilty.
And yet...from the Cross, He gargles, "Father, forgive them. They know not what they do." He wants you to accompany Him not just through the Crucifixion but then to hell and back. He wants you to shriek and throw yourself into His arms when He comes out, a half smile that says: We did it. He wants you to be the first one outside His tomb Easter morning. He wants you to repent and come back. He wants you to stay. He wants you.
