Homilies & Thoughts

Evil usually does not look obviously evil. It does not wear a sign and announce itself as such. It usually arrives in compromised hearts and the quiet surrender of courage. Good Friday forces us to confront that.

The Passion according to John does not present a stage crowded with cartoon villains. Pilate is weak and calculating, yet he is not blind. He knows Jesus is innocent. He sees the malice and envy around him. He senses that something holy stands before him. Still, he yields. The empire presses on him. The crowd presses on him. His own desire to preserve himself presses on him most of all. And so a man who can still recognize justice and truth refuses to act in defense of them. That is how evil works its way into history.

When I was a kid, WWJD was everywhere—bracelets, t-shirts, billboards. “What would Jesus do?” I never cared for it. It was a bad question. Jesus would walk on water, give sight to the blind, and raise the dead. I was not going to do that. A better question, a concrete and real question is, “What does Jesus want me to do,” WDJWMTD. That would look silly on a t-shirt. But that is okay. The Lord is not a slogan or an abstract ideal. He is a living person who speaks to us and loves us.

The road into Jerusalem begins with cheers and ends at Golgotha with mockery, blood, and a dying man. The crowd can welcome a king while they still imagine victory in familiar terms. They can cry, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” while picturing strength and the swift defeat of enemies. But when this king refuses the path of spectacle and force, many hearts turn. The same city that rejoices at his arrival will soon look upon him beaten, condemned, and hanging on a tree, and many will decide that he has failed. They notice his suffering. But they do not recognize his throne.