The
Word of the Cross
"The word of the Cross, to them that perish, is
foolishness; but to them that are saved, that is to us, it is the power
of God" (1 Cor. 1, 18).
THE woe and pain of Good Friday, its hope and grace, its message of
sorrow and its message of salvation, are summarized and embodied in one sign---the
sign of the Cross. In pagan countries, when the missionary, after
elementary instruction, erects the Cross, this symbol makes a powerful
impression upon those who see it for the first time; they look up to it
with timid reverence and feel themselves strangely attracted and at the
same time repulsed.
We are accustomed to the Cross. From earliest childhood it has graven
its outlines into the retina of our eye. We cannot recall when and
where we saw it first. We encounter it everywhere---at
home, in church, in city and country, in many designs. Thus it has
become an everyday sight and makes no special impression on us.
Today is precisely the day, therefore, to examine it closely once more
and to allow it to influence our minds and hearts. Gaze upon the Cross.
Can there be anything more simple than these two pieces of wood
crossing each other, this upright beam to which the cross-beam is
fitted at the intersection in the middle? Truly a simple, clear, and
regular design. Yet it is the picture of the most striking contrast and
contradiction, an eloquent symbol of pain, anguish, and death---this
bare tree, stripped of foliage and branches, with two mutilated stumps
of arms. And again the Cross with its firmly knit and straight lines is
a picture of strength and solidity, the image of power and of life.
As a picture of pain and death, as a picture of strength and life, the
Cross was chosen and determined upon as an instrument of salvation. As
a symbol of death and of life, it dominates the career of Jesus and
must also dominate our lives. This is what I would like to demonstrate
to you, and consequently my entire sermon today shall be summarized in
one word, the word of the Cross, of which the Apostle says it is
foolishness to them that perish, but the power of God to them that are
saved, that is, to us. May it, through the grace of Him Who was
crucified and through the intercession of His Sorrowful Mother, be unto
us truly the power of God!
The Cross with its hard, rugged lines and its form so barren of comfort
and joy, the Cross as a symbol of torture, does not merely dominate the
last days of our Saviour's life; it overshadows His entire life. Now
and then one sees pictures showing the boy Jesus, in childish yet
significant play, in Joseph's workshop, shaping a cross out of sticks
and showing it to His Mother or to little John. A pious fancy; but
truth is that even the eye of the Child saw the Cross of Golgotha
because that Child was endowed with omniscience. And Herod's threat of
death, the flight into Egypt, life in exile, the poverty and lowliness
in Nazareth---those were shadows cast ahead by the
Cross into the young life of the Saviour, and these shadows lay ever
deeper and deeper on His public life and activity and weighed on His
sensitive soul. He saw the Cross before Him, close up and sharply
defined, in the Garden of Olives, and its sight filled Him with such
distress and horror that His heart, throbbing wildly, forced the blood
through the pores of His skin.
But the next day the Cross He has foreseen so long is brought forth, He
takes it upon His shoulders and bears the heavy burden up to Golgotha,
where He is nailed to the Cross. Now He is inseparably joined to it,
wedded to it by that fatal torture which even the Romans, who were by
no means sentimental, considered the most cruel and terrible method of
execution. Never was it more cruel, never richer in pain, never carried
out on a more tender or more sensitive organism. Spikes, proverbial for
their size and temper, are used to fasten the body, already a mass of
wounds as the result of the scourging and the crowning with thorns, and
now a Martyrdom begins which surpasses all comprehension.
The unnumbered wounds, torn open at the disrobing, become inflamed on
contact with the air; the pain they cause is increased beyond
endurance. Four large additional wounds have been inflicted, and these
wounds in the hands and feet must bear the entire weight of the body,
and incessantly the sharp edges of the nails bore into and rend the
tissues. The position of the body is insufferable, yet the slightest
movement causes new pains. Not a moment of rest or relief. Wound upon
wound. Member by member is tortured. Every muscle is stretched to the
utmost and twisted. Then fever-heat, bathing the body in its flames,
burning and seething in the wounds and, augmented by loss of blood,
causing severe thirst.
And yet, extreme as this torture of the body is, that of the soul is
even greater. For Jesus, the innocent, pure and most holy, suffering
and death are not sweetened by the sense of innocence as is the case
with so many Saints and Martyrs. For the death He is dying is not that
of innocence, but of guilt. "Him, Who knew no sin, God hath made sin
for us," the Apostle declares (2 Cor. v, 21). He is laden with the sins
of an entire world. Therefore the beatifying consciousness of nearness
to God departs from Him, and we hear Him calling out pitifully and in
fear: "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!"
St. Chrysostom declares that the death of the Cross was more than mere
dying. It is a death in which the throes of pain, the distress, and the
anguish of all who have died and who will yet die on earth are united
into one. The Cross truly symbolizes the essence and the climax of all
suffering and pain in the life of Jesus. It is an eloquent symbol of
the most painful contrasts and contradictions. As the two beams stand
out boldly one against the other, and cross each other in strikingly
opposite lines, thus in the suffering and death of Jesus the greatest
contrasts cross and intersect each other: heavenly innocence and
frightful suffering in atonement of guilt; divine immortality and human
mortality; the sin of mankind and the grace of God; the Divine majesty
and man's disgrace and degradation; the sonship of God and man's
abandonment by God.
But in being nailed to the Cross these contrasts become a blessing for
humanity, being dissolved, eliminated, adjusted, and reconciled. Guilt
is wiped out by innocence, sin conquered by grace, shame converted into
glory, weakness into strength, suffering into victory, death into life.
At no time did the Saviour accomplish anything greater than on the
Cross, where He was unable to move either hand or foot; never did He
work greater wonders than when, covered with wounds, He hung on the
cross. During His lifetime He raised men from the dead, healed the
sick, pardoned individual sinners, enlisted a number of disciples, cast
out devils here and there. But in His Passion and death He conquered
Death itself, made atonement for sin, redeemed pain, triumphed over
Hell, vanquished the world, and drew mankind unto Himself.
It was then that His kingship began---His reign over
the world from the Cross. It was then that He began to fulfill the
prophecy: I, when I
shall be raised up from earth, will draw all things unto Myself (Jn.
xii, 32). This kingship endures through all the centuries and the power
of attraction emanating from the Cross is the same today as it was
at His death. The Cross itself has become something entirely different
from what it was. Once a pillory, it is now the throne of a King; once
an accursed tree, it is now a symbol of blessing; once an instrument of
death, it is now a tree of life. Aye, this dead, bare, denuded tree of
the Cross surpasses all trees of earth in intrinsic power to produce
life, fullness of vigor, growth and fruitfulness. It has taken root
everywhere and bears fruits of life. The word of the Cross indeed
embraces much lowliness, torture, misery and weakness, but also and
still more nobility and strength and victorious power. Therefore it is
foolishness only to the fools that perish, but to them that are
saved---that is, to us---it is the
power of God.
But the life, the strength, the salvation of the Cross can be shared
only by him who also shares it pain and burden. How shall we have a
part in it? First, by compassionately bearing the sufferings of Jesus
in our hearts; second, by bearing our own cross; and third, by
crucifying our evil desires.
To have compassion with the Crucified Saviour has always been
considered a sacred duty by Christians. This compassion
is never lacking in the lives of the Saints. It has produced an
abundance of devotions: the Way of the Cross, the devotion to the Five
Wounds, that to the Most Precious Blood, the Sorrowful Mysteries of the
Rosary, etc. This compassion once filled the heart of Christ's Mother
under the Cross. Each Good Friday it overwhelms the heart of the Church
anew and wrings from it the stirring lamentations we heard today.
The wounds of the Saviour, with their bleeding lips, cry out: Have
compassion with Him Who suffered so frightfully for you! The drops of
blood seeping from the wounds demand one little tear of compassion. The
glance of the glazing eyes, the thirsting mouth, plead for one little
tear. Jesus does not demand this compassion for Himself, as though He
were in need of it, but because you
need it.
This compassion must establish the connection between you and His
suffering. It is the silver tube leading the painful bitterness of His
Passion from His wounds into your heart; but with the bitterness also
its healing power. It is for this reason such compassion strengthens
and sustains the soul, cleanses it, preserves it from sin, prompts good
resolutions, enthuses it to great deeds and sacrifices.
But this compassion, this sorrowing with Christ must become real
suffering with Christ, veneration of the Cross a real bearing of the
cross. He demands it, and He demands it of all: "If any man will come
after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me"
(Matt. xvi, 24). "He that taketh not up his cross and followeth Me, is
not worthy of Me" (Matt. x, 38). This is the great law of His kingdom
which all must obey without exception. "Christ having suffered in the
flesh," the Prince of the Apostles admonishes us (1 Pet. iv, 1), "be
you also armed with the same thought," that is, expect also to suffer
and be as willing to suffer as He was. Accept all the great and small
sufferings, cares, labors, trials of life as a cross which God has
fashioned for you. Do not try to beg off or to shirk your duty; that
would be of no avail. Be your cross yet so hard, and rough at the
edges, and difficult to bear---take it upon yourselves
and bear it after
Him, touch it to His cross by uniting yourselves to Him in the spirit
of sacrifice, penance, patience, and resignation. If you do that,
strength will flow like an electric current from the Cross of Christ
into yours, and your burden will grow light. Now we come to the most
difficult and the most necessary part of our task: to carry our cross
is not sufficient; we must crucify the flesh, that is, the evil lust
rooted and abiding in the flesh. It is of this duty that St. Paul
speaks so frequently and emphatically: "They that are Christ's," he
says, "have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences"
(Gal. v, 24); the old man must be crucified with Christ, that we may
serve sin no longer, (Rom. vi, 6); of himself he says that he was
nailed to the cross with Christ, and carried the mortification of
Christ on his body; that the world had been crucified to him and he to
the world (Gal. ii, 19; vi, 14). Many
Christians hear this message, but refuse to take it
seriously. They consider such statements exaggerated figures of
speech, or have an idea that they apply to religious and priests, but
not to the laity. And because they do not regard them seriously, they
fail to gain the mastery over concupiscence and become slaves to evil
habits, which cause havoc in their lives and ultimately ruin them, body
and soul.
No! The mortification and crucifixion of which the Apostle speaks is
not an empty phrase, it is a serious duty incumbent on every Christian.
When lust fires the flesh with impure images and desires and stirs the
blood---crucify
it! crucify it! Think of the Saviour Who did penance
in blood and wounds for the sins of the flesh, and raising your eyes to
Him, out of love for Him and with His help suppress it, overcome it,
mortify it! When sloth, indifference, aversion to prayer are about to
cripple your strength and and oppress your soul---crucify
them! Gaze upon the Saviour Who did so much for you in the anguish and
throes of death; for His sake, with His strength, arouse yourself,
fulfill your religious obligations, work, strive, struggle for the
salvation of your soul! If enmity, vengefulness, anger are about to set
fire to your thoughts and emotions---nail them to
the cross! Think of the Saviour Who prayed on the Cross: "Father,
forgive!" You, too, must forgive! If evil habits bind you with their
fetters, despoil your life, and make it seemingly unbearable---fly
to the
cross; pray Christ Crucified with all the strength of your soul to
grant you the grace to extirpate your evil habits and to conquer them
by good habits.
In this fashion must the tree of our life be trimmed with a keen knife
and freed from the wild shoots, until it becomes like unto the tree of
the Cross and one
with it. Then life-giving sap from the Cross will flow into it, and
only then will it be able to bear fruits of life, sweet-scented
blossoms of joy and interior peace, and
delicious fruits of good works, holy practices, glorious
virtues---blossoms and fruits which are not destroyed
by death but have
eternal life and bring eternal life. Amen.
Source:
THE PASSION
A Sheaf of Sermons Selected from the Writings of
RT. REV. PAUL WILHELM V. KEPPLER
LATE BISHOP OF ROTTENBURG
B. HERDER BOOK CO.
Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur, 1929
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