Good Friday, April 2
Matthew 27.11-61: In handing Jesus over to the authority of the Gentiles, the Jewish leaders were explicitly rejecting Jesus and His messianic claims. In due course, Matthew will explain that the Jewish people as such, represented in the crowd that gathered before Pilate, consents to that rejection (27:25). That action in Pilate’s presence was a decisive turning point in salvation history. It represented what St. Paul described as the cutting off of branches from the ancient tree of Israel (Romans 11:16-24).
Even from a secular view of Jewish history, moreover, that repudiation of Jesus was decisive. From that hour, the history of the Jewish people took a different and profoundly altered direction. Even though theology insists that the Jews have never ceased to be God’s people (Romans 9:11), the historical condition of their calling was changed beyond anything imaginable prior to that time. Within the space of a few years the Jews lost their temple and the worship associated with that temple. That loss, which would have bewildered all the prophets and sages of the Hebrew Bible, has now lasted almost two millennia.
The centurion beneath the Cross, in confessing Jesus as God’s Son, stands in contrast to Satan as Matthew describes him in account of Jesus’ temptations. The first of those temptations, which followed immediately on the Father’s declaration of Jesus as His Son (3:17) began by a challenge to that declaration: “If You are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread” (4:3 emphasis added). In opposition to that challenge, our centurion confesses at the cross, “Truly this was the Son of God” (27:54).
Matthew’s centurion illustrates, in addition, the principle that Jesus enunciated earlier with respect to the recognition of His own identity, namely, that “no one knows the Son except the Father. Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and the one to whom the Son wills to reveal Him” (11:27). As the recipient of this divine revelation, Matthew’s centurion is a spokesman for the Church, sharing in Simon Peter’s confession: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (16:16).
Zechariah 13: Maintaining his emphasis on the Lord’s Passion and Death, the prophet goes on to speak of the striking of the Shepherd and the consequent dispersal of His disciples (verse 7), a text interpreted for us in Matthew 26:31 (cf. Mark 14:27; John 16:31).
This is the event by which the false gods are defeated (verse 1). These are the demonic forces brought to naught by the death of the First Born. Questioned about the marks of the wounds in His flesh, the Lord responds, “These wounds I received in the house of My friends” (verse 6).
Cyril of Alexandria wrote in the fifth century: “when the Only Begotten Word of God ascended into the heavens in the flesh to which He was united, there was something new to be seen in the heavens. The multitude of holy angels was astounded, seeing the King of glory and the Lord of hosts being made in a form like ourselves. . . . Then the angels asked this, ‘What are these wounds in Your hands?’ And He said to them, ‘These wounds I received in the house of My friends.’” These are the wounds that He will show to His disciples after His resurrection. He bears these wounds in his glorified flesh forever, as He stands before the Father, “as though slain,” being the one Mediator between God and Man (Revelation 5:6).
Holy Saturday, April 3
Matthew 27.62-66: Matthew alone tells the story of the elaborate security provided by the Jewish leaders to guarantee that the body of Jesus would not be stolen (verses 62-66). This account must be completed by a later one (28:11-13), in which those same enemies insist that the body was stolen! Matthew’s interest here is likewise apologetic.
Pilate’s answer to those leaders made no attempt to disguise his impatience and scorn: “You have a guard. Get out of here and guard the tomb. You know how” (verse 65).
Matthew’s style is freighted with irony. Quoting their fear that “the last deception will be worse than the first,” he identifies the deceivers as Jesus’ enemies. This last ruse of theirs will truly be worse than the earlier efforts.
Matthew recorded all this material, of course, looking back through the lens of what finally transpired!
Zechariah 14: A nun from Gaul, named Egeria, who visited the Christians at Jerusalem in the late fourth century, left us a description of the various liturgical practices of that ancient church. In the course of it, she described how, on Ascension Thursday, the believers gathered on the Mount of Olives, from which Jesus had ascended into heaven. And what did they do? They read the entire account, from the Gospel according to John, of the Lord’s suffering and death.
This remarkable detail reveals how closely related the Christians of old thought the various actions of the Lord by which we were redeemed. They did not think of redemption as taking place solely on the Cross, where the price of our sins was paid by our Lord’s blood (1 Peter 1:19), but as involving also the other events integral to the mystery of the Cross. The accomplishing of our redemption included also the event we celebrate today, Holy Saturday, when Jesus descended into the nether world to free the bondsmen whom Satan held there (3:19).
It included likewise his rising from the dead, inasmuch as Jesus “was delivered up for our offenses and was raised because of our justification” (Romans 4:25). As was suggested by Egeria’s account of the celebration of Ascension Thursday, the mystery of our redemption included also our Lord’s ascent into heaven and his assumption of the throne at the right hand of the Father, having been made for ever a priest according to the order of Melchizedek. This latter theme, of course, provides the major images of the Epistle to the Hebrews.
With this in mind, we should not be surprised that the Book of Zechariah, in the final chapter of its section dealing more explicitly with the sufferings of our Lord, prophesies also his standing on the Mount of Olives (verse 4); this mountain is symbolically divided, much as, in the Old Testament, the Red Sea and the River Jordan were divided. His ascent from the Mount of Olives will cause to flow the living waters of redemption (verses 8-9) and the reunion of all God’s people in the Holy City (verses 14-21).
Easter Sunday, April 4
Mark 16.1-20: Among the figures with whom Christians gather round the empty Tomb in paschal season, there is a special prominence pertaining to the Myrrh-bearers, those women disciples who shouldered their newly purchased spices and came to anoint the body of Jesus.
They formed the first “women’s guild” of the Church, one might say, and they had just done duty a couple of days earlier at the foot of the Cross. Excluded from the public “official list” of the Resurrection eyewitnesses (preserved in 1 Corinthians 15:5–8), these women are nonetheless featured with distinction in the narratives of Easter morning in all four canonical Gospels.
We are accustomed to thinking of these women as a group within the Church. Indeed, it has long been the habit of the Church to think of our female members as forming a distinct body, even though the women among us have often formed our majority. To this very day it is customary to designate one person as “President of the Women.”
This custom bears quiet testimony to some sense that women—left to their own wisdom—tend to organize themselves differently from men and even from society as a whole. Women interact with one another in patterns that men find mysterious and bewildering. A deep common sense—along with both inherited wisdom and a touch of valor—tells us the rest of us to back off and let women do things the way they prefer.
Even the period of the Apostles testified to this common pattern of regarding Christian women. For example, take St. Luke’s description of the morning of Pascha: “Then they returned from the tomb and told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. . . . And their words seemed to them like idle tales, and they did not believe them.” Later that afternoon—about the time of Agape Vespers, when Thomas was proclaiming his unbelief—two of the Lord’s disciples were telling Jesus himself, “Yes, and certain women of our company, who arrived at the tomb early, astonished us. When they did not find His body, they came reporting that they had also seen a vision of angels who said He was alive.”
Even though early Christian literature normally referred to these mothers and grandmothers of the Church as a group, certain of them stood out, perhaps because they were somewhat more demonstrative in their affections and more vocal in their faith. Only a few of them do we know by name, but that is quite enough. The Church will never forget Mary Magdalen, Salome (the wife of Zebedee), and Johanna (the wife of Chuza).
Monday, April 5
Matthew 28:1-10: “Mary Magdalene and the other Mary” preserve the continuity with the Passion story. As they were witnesses to Jesus’ death (27:56) and burial (27:61), so now they will be witnesses to His empty tomb (verse 1).
Matthew, who seems eager to press on with the rest of the story, omits t he reason for their coming to the tomb (Mark 16:1). To him, this detail would be nearly a distraction. Thus, he also omits the ladies’ discussion about how to open the tomb (Mark 16:3).
They find the tomb already opened, not to let Jesus out, but to let visitors in. This angel—if it is not irreverent to think of him as a “gentleman”—knows to open the door for ladies.
The myrrh-bearing women, perhaps already startled by the earthquake (an image favored by Matthew—see 8:24; 27:54), approach the tomb. The impressive appearance of the angel probably does nothing to reassure them (verse 3), and it certainly had its effect on the soldiers guarding the tomb (verse 4). These soldiers will later claim to have slept on guard (verse 13), which is a bit of an understatement.
As often in prophetic literature (Daniel, Zechariah, Revelation), the angel explains what is happening (verses 5-7). Indeed, this empty tomb requires an explanation. When Matthew’s Gospel ends, moreover, the difference between Jew and Christian will be their differing explanations for the empty tomb.
The announcing angel, having reassured these frightened women, reminds them that Jesus had already predicted this day and this event (verse 6; 16:21-23; 17:22-23; 20:18-19). In fact, Jesus had also promised to meet His disciples in Galilee (verse 7; 26:32; c. Mark 16:7).
Learning the news of the resurrection, the women disciples go rushing out, to be the first human heralds of the event that changed the world (verse 8). The brief scene of their sudden meeting with Jesus (verses 9-10) may record the same incident of which St. John provides such a theologically rich account (John 20:11-18—Note that in both accounts Jesus refers to the disciples as “my brothers.”)
In a manner typical of Matthew’s narrative, these women “adore” Jesus (cf. 2:2,8,11; 8:2; 9:18; 14:33; 15:25; 20:20; 28:17).
Tuesday, April 6
John 20.1-18: The Gospel of Mark tells us, Jesus “appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom He had cast seven demons.” This same description is given in the Gospel of Luke, which speaks of “certain women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities—Mary called Magdalene, out of whom had come seven demons” (8:2).
In whatever way those demonic forces were manifest in the life of Mary of Magdala, this description is very frightful: If we understand seven as the number of fullness—the meaning it often has in Holy Scripture—this image indicates a life completely under the dominance of dark powers.
The spiritual state of Mary Magdalene was desperate beyond words. Hers was a ruined life until she met Christ our Lord, whose power drove the demons from her soul. He restored her to sanity and spiritual health.
From that day on, Mary Magdalene devoted her existence to the service of Jesus. She belonged to that company of women of whom St. Luke says, they “provided for Him from their own resources” (8:3).
Among that group, Mary Magdalene is almost always mentioned first, a fact suggesting she may have been their natural leader. Matthew, Mark, and John all name her among standing at the foot of the Cross when Jesus died, and each of the four Gospels places her at the tomb on the morning of the Resurrection.
St John, in particular, describes her personal encounter with the risen Lord at the empty tomb. Like the bride in the Song of Solomon (3:1–4), Mary Magdalene rises early, while it is still dark, and goes out seeking Him whom her soul loves, the one whom she calls “my Lord.”
In an image reminiscent of both Genesis and the Song of Solomon, she comes to the garden of His burial (19:41). Indeed, she first takes the risen Jesus to be the gardener, which, as the new Adam, He most certainly is. Her eyes blinded by tears, she does not at once know Him. He speaks to her, but even then she does not recognize His voice.
The dramatic moment of recognition arrives when the risen Lord pronounces her own name: “Mary.” Only then does she know Him as “Rabbouni,” “my Teacher.”
In this story, then, Christians perceive in Mary Magdalene an image of themselves meeting their risen Lord and Good Shepherd: “the sheep hear his voice; and he calls his own sheep by name . . . , for they know his voice” (John 10:3–4). This narrative of Mary Magdalene is an affirmation that Christian identity comes of recognizing the voice of Christ, who speaks our own name in the mystery of salvation: “the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).
Mary Magdalene represents the full development of the converted life. When the Lord first met her, she was possessed by seven demons. In the Resurrection scene she has grown to the point where she is an image of the Church, the Bride of the Lamb.
Wednesday, April 7
Psalm 89 (Greek & Latin 88): This psalm is composed of three parts. The first has to do with God’s activity in the creation of the heavens and the earth, the second with His covenant and promise with respect to the house of David, and the third with certain crises of history that threaten that covenant and put its promise at peril. All three themes are organically connected.
To see how these three realities are joined within the Christian mystery, we may begin with a text from St. Clement of Alexandria around the year 200. He wrote that
the ancient and catholic Church stands alone in essence and idea and principle and preeminence, gathering together, by the will of the one God, through the one Lord, into the unity of the one faith, built upon the appropriate covenants, or rather the one covenant given at different times, all those who are already enlisted in it, whom He foreordained, having known from the foundation of the world that they would be righteous” (Stromateis 7.17.107).
In sum, all of God’s dealings with this world are of whole cloth, including the grace of creation. All the historical covenants are expressions of the one covenant. From the beginning of time there has been only one God, one Lord, one faith.
The mystery of Christ was already present, then, when the voice of God called out into the aboriginal darkness of non-being, “Let there be light.” Christ is no afterthought in the divine plan; God has no relations with this world except in Christ. Even when the Father’s voice imposed form over the chaos of nonexistence, it was the form contained in His Word, who is His Son. God’s covenant with creation was the initial exercise in applied Christology.
The first part of our psalm, taking up the theme of this divine imposition of form over chaos, emphasizes the structural constancy of the universe, but already this cosmic theme is introduced in a setting best described as messianic. That is to say, already anticipating the psalm’s second part, the permanence of the Davidic throne is related to the unvarying dependability of the heavenly bodies, for both things are given shape by God’s holy word and sworn resolve: “For You declared: ‘Mercy shall be built up forever.’ Your truth is prepared in the heavens: ‘A covenant have I formed with my chosen ones; to David my servant I swore an oath: Forever will I provide for your seed; I shall establish your throne unto all generations.’ The heavens will confess Your wonders, O Lord, and Your truth in the church of Your saints.”
Now, as Christians, we know that God’s solemn promise to David, with respect to the everlasting stability of his throne, is fulfilled in the kingship of Christ, for the Son of David now sits forever enthroned at God’s right hand, executing both prophecy and promise. Only in Christ do we find the key to the mystery of this psalm: “Once I swore by My holiness, nor would I ever lie to David. His seed shall abide forever, and his throne as the sun in My sight, and like the moon forever established, a faithful witness in heaven.”
The theological bond, then, joining the creation to David, is Christ: “God . . . has in these last days spoken to us by His Son, whom He has appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the worlds. . . . But to the Son He says: ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.’ . . . And: ‘You, Lord, in the beginning laid the foundation of the earth, / And the heavens are the work of Your hands’” (Heb. 1:1, 2, 8, 10). The regal, messianic covenant of sonship is related to the fixed structure of the very world, because both realities are rooted in Christ. As font and inner form, He is their common warrant.
In fact, nonetheless, both things, God’s creation and His covenant, appear ever under threat throughout history, which theme brings us to the third part of our psalm. In this section we pray repeatedly for God’s vindication of the messianic covenant, which man in his rebellion endeavors ever to overthrow. Indeed, in our own times this struggle seems to have intensified and entered a new phase. After deism, rejecting God’s messianic covenant with us in Christ, strove to content us solely with the rational structure of creation, it was only a short time before creation itself came under siege. Now we live in a world where even the clearest manifestations of intelligent order are routinely dismissed as chaos, so grievously has the human spirit lost its use of reason.
One especially observes the recurrence of two expressions in this psalm: mercy (five times) and truth (seven times).
Thursday, April 8
1 Peter 2.18-25: When we have turned to Christ and received His grace, being incorporated into His Church through the Sacraments, we still find ourselves living in the world. More specifically, we still find ourselves someplace in the structures of society, our obligations to that society not a whit diminished. Indeed, it may occur to us to inquire just how our responsibilities in society may be altered by our new status as Christian believers.
Since Christians from the very beginning have struggled to understand how the Gospel affects their duties in whatever state they find themselves, it is not surprising, therefore, that early Christian pastors addressed such concerns at length. This is true of the Apostle Paul (Colossians 3:18—4:1; Ephesians 5:22—6:9; 1 Timothy 2:8-15; 6:1-2; Titus 2:1-10), Ignatius of Antioch (Polycarp 4.1—6.3), Polycarp of Smyrna (Philadelphians 4.2—6.3), and Clement of Rome (Corinthians 270-275,286-291). It also appears in standard pre-baptismal catechesis of the period (Didache 4.9-11; Pseudo-Barnabas 19.5-7).
Even while we are sojourners in this world, he says (2:11), we are still citizens that have obligations to society and the government, including the emperor [Nero!] (verses 13-17). Some of us are servants, with obligations to our masters (verses 18-25). Some are wives, with duties to our homes and husbands (3:1-6), and others are husbands, responsible for the wellbeing of our wives (3:7).
Like Paul in Romans 13, Peter reminds Christians that all legitimate authority in this world comes from God and must not, therefore, be disdained by those who believe they have a higher and more immediate access to God. They are to obey the government “for the Lord’s sake.” That is to say, they will be no less good citizens than non-Christians, but their motivation will be directed to Christ, as the true author of all legitimate authority in this world (verses 13-17).
Song of Solomon 5: Arguably the best commentary on the Song of Solomon comes to us from the pen of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, a Cistercian monk of the twelfth century. Although he preached eighty-six sermons on this book to his monks before he died, he barely made it into Chapter Two! Writing in the older tradition of the Alexandrian Fathers, going back to the third century, Bernard’s approach to the Song of Solomon is very sober and spiritual. There is nothing in Bernard of the morbid spiritual eroticism of later ages.
For example, in interpreting the “bundle of myrrh” that the bride places between her breasts (1:13), Bernard recalls that myrrh was used for the anointing of the dead. The myrrh of the Song of Solomon, then, refers to the death of Christ, by which He purchased the Church as His Bride.
What would it mean, in these terms, for the Bride to bear the bundle of myrrh between her breasts? This description, answers Bernard, refers to the constant memory of the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ, cherished in love in the Christian heart. He reminds his monks, in his sermon on this verse, that the sufferings and death of Jesus were seldom absent from his lips, and never absent from his heart. Bernard interprets this verse, in other words, in the spirit of St. Paul who, speaking of the sufferings and death of Jesus, wrote of “the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).
Friday, April 9
1 Peter 3:1-12: In the first few verses Peter finishes his treatment of the Haustafel from the previous chapter.
He begins with the wives, whom he exhorts to be submissive to their husbands. This is to be the case, says Peter, even in those instances where the husband is an unbeliever (verse 1). (This is the situation in which a woman already married becomes a Christian. In no case may a Christian woman actually marry an unbeliever—2 Corinthians 6:15-18.) In this case, as in the case of a Christian living in civil society (2:15), Peter hopes for the good influence of the believer on the unbeliever.
Peter probably intends some of his comments here to pertain to Christian women generally, and not just to wives. This is surely the case respecting chastity and modesty (verse 3-5). His concern in this regard is similar to that of Isaiah (3:16-24), who apparently enjoyed poking fun at the way the women in the eighth century loved to preen themselves.
In spite of Abraham’s frequently unhappy home life, much of it caused by wife’s dramatic mood swings, Peter still holds out for Christian wives the example of Sarah (verse 6). This is not the only time in the New Testament where Sarah is “given a pass” (cf. Hebrews 11:11 compared with Genesis 18:12-15).
Christian husbands are to be good husbands precisely because they are Christians (verse 7). What is owed to the wife is “honor,” and this because she is “weaker.” This does not refer physical weakness generally (and certainly not to any alleged intellectual or moral weakness in women, something that only an inexperienced fool would fancy), but to a certain delicacy in the female. Peter is quietly presuming that a woman’s constitution, which is far more “complicated” than a man’s, renders her inherently more vulnerable to danger, much like the delicacy of an expensive vase. Indeed, Peter even uses the metaphor of a “vessel.” This is a dining room vessel, not a ship. Certain things of beauty and delicacy in the home are given special honor. Wives are to be treated in a similar way by Christian husbands. They are NEVER to be handled roughly, not even in thought and most certainly not in word.
The affection, respect, deference, courtesy, compassion, and tenderness necessary to life in the home is to be extended to the larger home of the Church, and thence to the rest of society (verses 8-9). This effort will be expressed in a stern control of one’s tongue (verse 10) and the steady quest to create atmospheres of peace (verse 11). Blessing must cover all things (verse 9). (I refer the reader here to the Book of Ruth, where he is counseled to count the constant blessings that its sundry characters heap on one another. Christians must pass up no opportunity to bless.)