Priorities
In my younger days I had a little issue with the Church every time Passion Sunday rolled around. Why, oh why, I wondered, on the very day when we’re supposed to be focused like laser beams on the Passion and Death of our Lord, did the Church cover up the crucifix? Why were we being prevented from seeing that very instrument of our Lord’s suffering? And, even more to the point, why were we being prevented from being moved to a greater devotion by the sight of our Lord himself in all his pain and torment, the crown of thorns on his head, the nails in his hands and feet? I could understand covering up the statues and images of the saints—surely that was so we could focus all the better on our blessed Lord and his Passion. But then, why put drapes over the very center of our meditations? Isn’t that more of a hindrance than a help? To me, it just didn’t seem to make sense.
Well, here we are again at the start of another Passiontide. And again, we come to church to find our beloved crucified Saviour removed from sight. So again, let’s ask the question, ‘Why’? There is a reason of course, one that shows the wisdom, compassion and understanding of the Church with regard to us her children. For our Holy Mother Church knows us, better perhaps than we know ourselves. She recognizes our inability to live in a state of constant compassion towards our suffering Saviour. She knows we grow accustomed to seeing the crucifix on our wall, we grow cold to the intense torments represented by that instrument of our salvation. Let’s admit it, we begin to treat the crucifix as just another “decoration”, one that, with the passage of days, weeks, and months, grows so familiar that we no longer notice it. It’s an awful thing to admit, but we eventually just take the crucifix for granted.
The Church is quite familiar with the old adage that we appreciate something only when it’s taken away from us. And so it is that on Passion Sunday, she refocuses us on the Cross of Christ precisely by removing it from sight, by covering it up so that we are forced to notice it by its absence. Only at the great climax of Passiontide, at the Mass of the Presanctified on Good Friday, are the purple drapes removed from the cross by the priest, as three times he intones those solemn words, Ecce lignum Crucis—“Behold the Wood of the Cross, whereon was hung the world’s salvation,” and we fall to our knees in adoration, again three times responding “O come, let us worship.” Only at this most solemn moment will be reminded of all the Cross represents, as we process up the aisle of the church to venerate the Cross of Christ to kiss the image of his bloodstained feet.
The power of these sacred rituals is conveyed all the more effectively by today’s removal of the Cross from our sight. Our Gospel today reflects this message as our blessed Lord hides himself from the sight of the Jewish people. When they take up stones to cast at him,” it tells us, “Jesus hid himself, and went out of the temple.” The next time they would see him would be dressed in the purple robes of a king, covered in blood from the scourging at the pillar, and with a crown of thorns upon his head. But the hearts of the Jews were so hardened by this time, hardened with hatred against their God and King, and instead of being moved by this sight, would call out all the louder, “Crucify him, crucify him!”
Today, these memories fill us with shock and horror. We are moved even to tears at such a sight as this. Indeed, one of the reasons our Lord chose to suffer so very severely and visibly was to move us to love him all the more. And with sufferings like these, we find it hard to imagine that anyone could have a heart so unfeeling that they would choose deliberately to offend the God who loved them so very much.
Today then, we are asked to place ourselves in the shoes of the chosen people of Israel. We are invited to behold in the intimacy of our own mind what we can no longer see on the wall above the altar. Today, our Lord presents himself to our most secret and inmost self, that part of us where we make those most life-altering decisions, where we consider the most vital choices we have to make in order to return God’s love for us with an appropriate commitment to love him in return. Not just for today. Not just for the season of Passiontide. For our entire future.
The choice is clear and simple. It is a choice between God and pleasure. Which do we love more? God or pleasure? Do we love God enough to forego all illicit pleasures, all sinful attachments to our own self-gratification? That vague notion we have in our heads that yes, of course we love God—I’m sorry but that is not enough. Today we must ask, do we love the Lord our God with all our heart, all our soul, all our mind, all out strength? How are we to measure just how much we love God? The only honest answer to this question is by applying God’s own standard of measurement.
God does not measure our love by how much faith we have. He doesn’t measure our love by how many times we go to Mass, or how much money we put in the collection basket. He doesn’t measure our love by how many prayers we say—not everyone that says to me ‘Lord, Lord’ shall enter into the kingdom of heaven. And we can have enough faith to move mountains, but without charity it profiteth us nothing. Certainly we must have that charity, the highest of the virtues. But how much charity, how much love? God measures our love by one thing… “If ye love me,” he tells us, “ye will keep my commandments.” Here then is how he will judge us, here is how we can ourselves measure ourselves on the scales of his justice. Just how well are we keeping those commandments, those laws of God by which we choose either to prove our love of God or reject him. By keeping those ten commandments diligently and fervently, we don’t just tell God we love him–we prove to him that we love him above all things.
As the Cross is removed from our sight today, let it be a reminder of that dreadful moment of judgment when we stand before him to receive our judgment. Will it be the very last time we see him? Will he remove himself from our sight forever? Or will it be the crowning glory of our lives, our Resurrection from the dead, when we behold him with a beatific vision that will last forever? Keep your eyes on that purple draped Crucifix this morning, remember the love that our Lord showed us in his Passion and Death, and think of your own miserable pleasures. God or pleasure? Make the choice once and for all.