Passion Sunday—29 March AD 2020
Ave Maria!
[Ordinary of the Mass]
[Mass Text - Latin]
[Mass Text - English]
[Lenten Observance]
It seems that every year since I have been a priest, there has been someone who tells me that they have never seen the crucifix and the other images covered in purple cloth—or at least someone who wants to know why they are covered. So, I thought I'd beat whoever it is this year to the punch and explain why, before I am asked.
The custom is quite ancient, going back before the time crucifixes came to be used by Christians. You see, in the very early days, right after the time of Christ, the cross still represented the shameful death that the Romans would only sentence bad people to endure—it evoked thoughts of murderers and robbers, and such people.
Only after a few centuries did the cross become a symbol of Christ and His death and resurrection. And even then, it would be a few more centuries before artisans would begin crafting images of Jesus Himself to put on those crosses. Roman persecution insured that the few things used by the Church for worship would be both plain and portable. The early Christians didn't want to have to hide much when the soldiers broke in.
But as Christianity became an accepted part of the Empire, more elaborate and ornate accouterments were added to the Church's worship. And for a fair period of time, the altar cross used by Catholics was a plain cross, decorated with jewels to make it attractive. And as you might expect, during the season of Lent, such a display seemed out of place to many people. So the custom of covering the cross, and later the other paintings or statues developed. Its purpose, then, is to convey to us the somber tone appropriate to these last two weeks of deep Lenten observance.
Even today, when crucifixes are relatively plain, we retain the custom of veiling them as a reminder that—especially at this time of year—our prayer ought to be more introspective. By introspective I mean that, instead of looking around us, and seeing images of our Lord and Lady and the Saints, we ought to try to visualize them and their virtues in our minds. Instead of seeing a pretty picture of our Lord, we are to recall what we know about Him, and try to hold Him in our thoughts. In fact, we want to get beyond forming pictures of them, to forming relationships with them. Jesus and Mary should be more than pretty pictures or statues to us—and this introspective prayer or meditation is the way we begin speaking personally with God; the way in which we develop the inner focus and solitude that will enable us to hear His response to our prayers.
Now, quite appropriately, in this season of the Passion, our meditation ought to call to mind the Crucifixion and Death of our Lord. And, if we want to develop a meditation on this, or any other holy event, we might do so by asking ourselves the questions traditionally asked by writers when they compose a story: Who, what, when, where, why, how, and to what consequence? Lets try that together, so that you can see what I mean.
Who suffered? The Creator suffered for the creature. The God who created us, suffered for us. Our Lord Jesus Christ, Second Person of the Blessed Trinity painfully laid down His life for us.
What did He suffer? He suffered the painful agony of having nails pounded through his wrists and hanging on those agonized limbs for hours until he died by asphyxiation; too weak to pull Himself up to draw another breath. He suffered a death so terrible that just thinking about it in Gethsemane caused Him break out in a sweat of blood.
Where and When did He suffer? He suffered in Jerusalem, about 2000 years ago. But the philosopher Blaise Pascal, suggested that because of mankind's continued sinning, “Our Lord Jesus Christ will be in agony until the end of time”—something to think about when we are tempted to sin.
Why did He suffer? He suffered because His insignificant creatures had disobeyed their infinite Creator. In justice, only God become man could satisfy for this infinite insult. But, perhaps more important, He wanted to demonstrate not His justice, but His love for us.
How did He suffer? He suffered at the hands of His “chosen people,” who loudly demanded His crucifixion; and He was put to death by the politicians and world leaders of His time.
To what consequence did He suffer? By His suffering, our Lord re-opened the gates of heaven. From His Heart, pierced with a lance, we have the torrent of sanctifying grace; that which allows the life of God to live in our souls. And, hopefully, by His suffering and our meditation on it, we can develop the true love of God and a strong hatred for sin.
And, of course, no meditation on the Crucifixion would be complete without remembering that in His suffering, Jesus gave us Mary to be our Mother; to have compassion on us as she had compassion on Him as she stood at the foot of the Cross; the perfect model for wives and mothers and women dedicated to God whenever they undergo tribulation.
This sort of meditation takes a little bit more than just viewing a picture of a statue, or even than reading from Sacred Scripture. But it is the way, and perhaps the only way that we can actually form a relationship with almighty God. So, the crucifix is veiled today in order to remind us that—particularly during these next two weeks—we ought to turn our thoughts inward, and find Jesus Christ in our hearts.
