The Twelfth Station: Jesus Dies on the Cross
(Those of us who have had the privilege and honor of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land always make Jerusalem part of the holy time. There, although the Jewish Temple has been replaced by a grand mosque, we can see the very places we read about in the New Testament, the actions of our redemption through the life, passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Many make the way of the cross, the Via Dolorosa, an ancient prayer service with stops at places that commemorate events of Our Lord’s tortuous journey to the place of His execution. Some of the stations, as they are called, are taken directly from the Gospels, some are inferred from the practice of crucifixion, and a few come from the more reliable Christian traditions.)
Every year during Holy Week—the week prior to Easter—I have the privilege of proclaiming the Passion of Jesus at our church services. The climax of every Gospel reading consists of words like “Jesus breathed His last.” Jesus died. Every time I say those words, I kneel down. The congregation and other ministers follow my example, and we only rise after a minute or so of contemplation. It’s our way of following the leadership of St. Paul when he wrote to the church at Philippi. Jesus emptied Himself, dying by crucifixion so that He—and we—would rise again. He taught us that because of this reality, commemorated at every Mass, every knee should bend in heaven, on earth, and under the earth. His death on the cross was the central act of human history. Before Jesus, our deaths would have been the end of our earthly woes and the beginning of our eternal ones. After Jesus, our deaths should be, in the words of St. Paul, a “falling asleep” and waking to the vision of God or, as C.S. Lewis taught, a transition of cleansing into the full vision of God.
Jesus told His disciples that when He was lifted up, He would draw all to Himself, and John makes it clear that He was referring to the means of His execution. Look carefully at the people gathered around His cross. There were saints close to Him—John and Christ’s mother. There was Mary Magdalene, out of whom He had driven multiple demons. Her presence was particularly apt because Jesus was in the great winning contest with Satan right there. There were the Roman soldiers and centurion, representing the oppressive emperor, whose successor would engineer, as Christ predicted, the destruction of Jerusalem two generations afterwards. And we must not forget the bullies of the drama, the scribes and Pharisees and High Priests, usually at each other’s throats, who were temporarily united in sending Jesus to death to preserve their power. All of mankind was represented, as Jesus earned their salvation, available to them if they would only believe in Him and His mission. They yelled at Jesus, defying Him to “come down from that cross” and be the Messiah they wanted.
But—one more thing--there were the two robber-insurrectionists, one of whom joined in the mockery. But the other admitted his sin and turned in faith to Jesus. He had seen the inscription over Jesus’s head, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews,” and asked to be remembered when this dying rabbi “came into [His] kingdom.” Jesus promised Him that He would be His first redeemed saint, just an hour later. All humanity was represented.
We need to understand the final words of Jesus, as His muscles began to give out and make it impossible for Him to push up on the nails binding His feet so that He could grab a breath of air. In a real sense, the drama on the cross was a conclusion of the Passover meal He celebrated with His apostles on the previous evening. Scholars tell us that two actions were missing from the Last Supper. First, there is no Passover lamb. There is bread and wine, but no lamb, the sacrificial participant at the feast. The reason, of course, is that Jesus Christ was offering Himself, His Body and Blood, to His disciples as the new and singular Paschal Lamb. His Resurrected self would become the Lamb of the Book of Revelation and the Bridegroom of the Church, His Bride.
The second and less obvious omission at the Last Supper is the final cup of wine, the fourth cup of the Seder meal. The apostles and Jesus terminated the meal early and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, where they prayed (and slept), and Jesus entered profound anguish as He struggled with angelic help to maintain His commitment to His saving mission. Then Jesus was arrested and began the physical part of His Passion. But in a real sense the Passover meal was not finished. In His final minutes on the cross, Jesus said, “I thirst,” and was rewarded with a spear-thrust sponge with some cheap wine. He took the wine, said “it is finished” and gave over His Spirit. What was finished? Yes, His suffering. But with the final sacrifice of the true Paschal Lamb, the Lamb of God, Jesus, the last Passover supper was also complete. The next time He would “partake of the fruit of the vine” would be on the Day of Resurrection, with His disciples at Emmaus, in the new kingdom of God. The whole of the action between the Last Supper and the final “cup” of wine on the cross made complete the sacrifice that takes away the sins of the world—yours and mine.
