We preach a Christ who was crucified;
he is the power and the wisdom of God.
1 Corinthians 1:23-24
When we were baptised in Christ Jesus we were baptised in his death; in other words, when we were baptised we went into the tomb with him and joined him in death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the Father’s glory, we too might live a new life.
Romans 6:3 (Universalis)
The fog of sin surrounds and empties down the well of my being. The crowd yelling at our Lord, screaming to crucify Him. To see what we look like as such a deeply fallen people and to bear the pain of it, the hatefulness that we humans hurl, especially at our lovely Jesus. To be the thing thrown away. How can we be so cruel? How can God have mercy on us and love us so much? I can see Pilate frustrated, washing his hands of the crowd yelling wildly, viciously, “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” and Jesus standing before them, beaten horribly and breaking open for us; already forgiving us for we “know not what we do;” refusing a hundred thousand angels in His Passion; rising above all darkness by embracing all darkness, for us, for our salvation, for love’s endurance.
At the Easter Vigil Mass, in dark-blue shadows with unlit candles, passing the Altar flame from person to person, down the pews, until we were all holding fire in our hands and a tomb of silence in our souls. The incense smoke resonating beyond the boundaries of cells into the wilderness of our brokenness; into the vastness of God pursuing us. And what is torn in the waiting? The power of God splitting universes and a sea and our hearts of stone. In the rending of our Lord's flesh to make all things new, a violence comes before the deadly quiet and the awe and the trembling deep down.
Oh, Lord Jesus, what you have done for us.