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“One thing above all appears different, seen with the eyes of faith: death! Christ entered death as we enter a dark prison; but he came out of it from the opposite wall. He did not return from whence he came, as Lazarus did who returned to life to die again. He has opened a breach towards life that no one can ever close, and through which everyone can follow him. Death is no longer a wall against which every human hope is shattered; it has become a bridge to eternity. A “bridge of sighs”, perhaps because no one likes to die, but a bridge, no longer a bottomless pit that swallows everything. “Love is strong as death”, says the song of songs (Sgs 8:6). In Christ it was stronger than death!”
Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa, Homily for Good Friday 2013 (Also available in Dutch).
It was the Day of Preparation, about the sixth hour. ‘Here is your king,’ said Pilate to the Jews. But they shouted, ‘Away with him, away with him, crucify him.’ Pilate said, ‘Shall I crucify your king?’ The chief priests answered, ‘We have no king except Caesar.’
So at that Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified. They then took charge of Jesus, and carrying his own cross he went out to the Place of the Skull or, as it is called in Hebrew, Golgotha, where they crucified him with two others, one on either side, Jesus being in the middle.
Pilate wrote out a notice and had it fixed to the cross; it ran: ‘Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews’. This notice was read by many of the Jews, because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the writing was in Hebrew, Latin and Greek. So the Jewish chief priests said to Pilate, ‘You should not write “King of the Jews”, but that the man said, “I am King of the Jews”. ‘
Pilate answered, ‘What I have written, I have written.’
When the soldiers had finished crucifying Jesus they took his clothing and divided it into four shares, one for each soldier. His undergarment was seamless, woven in one piece from neck to hem; so they said to one another, ‘Instead of tearing it, let’s throw dice to decide who is to have it.’ In this way the words of scripture were fulfilled: They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothes. That is what the soldiers did.
Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple he said, ‘This is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.
After this, Jesus knew that everything had now been completed and, so that the scripture should be completely fulfilled, he said: I am thirsty. A jar full of sour wine stood there; so, putting a sponge soaked in the wine on a hyssop stick, they held it up to his mouth. After Jesus had taken the wine he said, ‘It is fulfilled’; and bowing his head he gave up his spirit.
John 19:14-30
Today all the affairs of our daily life, important or trivial, come to a stop. It is Good Friday, the day on which we return to the very heart of everything, our entire life and all the things that concern us.
We’ve all heard it before, the story of the agony in the garden, the arrest, the innocence and the death closing off this day. But it never gets old, and we must not pretend it does, even when it is sometimes hard.
In our lives there are good times and bad times. For all those experiencing difficulties of some sort, know that Christ is there with us, especially today. His agony, his pain is elevated by His intention to do what is right for us. Not for Him, but for us. Part of his pain and suffering are the problems we experience, whether they exist because of our own mistakes or because we are innocent victims of circumstance. The Lord is concerned with our plight, not with questions of guilt. Taking our pain on His shoulders, He merely looks us in the eye and tells us to sin no more (cf. John 8:11).
Today, in the Stations of the Cross and in the Service of the Passion of the Lord, our suffering becomes joy, even as we contemplate the death of Our Lord and Saviour. “Go, and sin no more” becomes a commandment that elevates His shameful death from pointless cruelty to saving grace. With Jesus, our old self dies, the self who suffered, who made mistakes, who caused others grief or who simply could not take things anymore. The Cross becomes the sign of this fundamental change: “Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the salvation of the world”, we hear the priest chant today.
Our faith is not a depressing faith, or one which reminds us of all the things we do wrong, or how unworthy of everything we are. As Pope Francis reminded us recently, ours is a joyful faith. And even the events we remember and experience anew today move us further along the road to joy.
“Go and sin no more”.
Christ took the first steps. Let us follow.
Freedom of expression and religion is apparently a flexible concept. At least as far as the city council of the town of Alaca in Spain is concerned. Apparently, the aforementioned freedoms are rights which only apply if you say things that the popular majority agrees with. That is what the Catholics of the Diocese of Alcalá de Henares recently discovered as the aforementioned city council called for the removal of Bishop Juan Antonio Reig Plá, following statements which were deemed homophobic.
Following Bishop Reig Plá’s Good Friday homily, in which he formulated the Church’s teaching that homosexual acts are inherently disordered and criticised sexual behaviour in modern society, several leftist organisations, together with Spain’s Socialist Party, tabled a motion to have the bishop transferred to another diocese, as well as banning him from all official functions in the city.
The diocese’s response rightly called this “a sad and intolerable violation of human rights and of the principle of the separation of Church and state”. Bishop Reig Plá has the support of the Spanish Bishops’ Conference, his own priests, the International Federation of Associations of Catholic Doctors, and, strikingly, some 20 individuals with same-sex attraction from his diocese.
Reading all this, I have to wonder why people continue to be surprised when a bishop supports Catholic teaching? Is it because they somehow assume that the Church is in favour of current sexual morality and the behaviour of some homosexual people? Do they think that a bishop who says something that is difficult and challenging is out of touch with the Church? Bishop Reig Plá’s words are nothing new. Sexual behaviour in modern society is a source of serious concern, and certain examples of homosexualist behaviour, such as gay pride marches, do nothing but sexualising the human person under the banner of tolerance. Well, it should be clear that exactly these groups, as well as many on the left side of the political spectrum, are the ones who are intolerant. It is they who do not allow different opinions and apparently consider basic human rights and freedoms to be selectively applicable.
The modern response to some undesired statements is the call for the banishment of everyone and everything that is not in full agreement with the opinion of the popular majority (or what some people think the popular majority should think and want). That is not freedom or tolerance. It is intolerance and the dictatorship of relativism.
Everyone enjoys the right to freely express themselves and to live according to their faith. These are basic human rights. No one has to agree with what a person says, but that person still has every right to say it, without suffering criminal prosecution or political harassment. Bishop Juan Antonio Reig Plá is a shepherd and teacher of his people. On Good Friday he taught about sexual morality. He has every right and duty to do so, and no one has a right to force him from performing the duties he was consecrated for.
The cold Roman eye, hand on seal.
Vale. Take the thief away.
‘You carry your own tree, Jimmy…’
Another gallowsbird behind.
One ahead, burdened, a bruised brightness.
I’ve carried millstones, wine-vats, a mast.
That one was a carpenter.
His knees buckle under the heavy baulk.
My mother, poor woman, is dead.
His mother is here. Poor woman. Poor woman.
Look, Simon’s come into town
With an ox to sell.
They’ve laid another yoke on Simon.
Veronica, seamstress. No napkin ever
Soaked up such blood and sweat.
I stagger but I don’t fall.
The sneak-thief plods like a mule.
The bright one, he’s down again.
Those women! Miriam, Judith, Esther
Go home, sing over your cradles.
Sing among looms and pots.
Below, cornfields and vineyards.
A third time, fallen.
He tastes golden dust.
The soldiers won’t bother, I think,
Haggling over my coat.
No scarecrow would wear a rag like that.
Silence – curses – from cross and cross.
From the mid-ark
A dove wings out into the blackest storm.
Thrust of lance into heart-root.
The soldiers are coming with mallets
To break the legs of the thieves.
The eyes of the mother
Drown all the world in pity and love.
The hammer beats on my knee.
That the hands of such a woman
Fold me gravewards.
Bear me and all men in her folds of light.
- George Mackay Brown
“We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.”
“Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.”
And there we go. With Christ we ascend the sloping streets of Jerusalem to Golgotha, to His sacrifice on the cross, to our own eternal redemption.
Today, like previous years, we’ll be travelling there in this blog too. At 45-minute intervals, we’ll stop at one of the 14 stations of the Via Crucis. We’ll do so with all Catholics the world over, all who profess faith in Christ and wish to follow Him in their lives, and especially with the vicar of Christ and all in Rome. The texts in the stations here are the ones used at the Via Crucis in Rome, presided over by Pope Benedict XVI. They are, as I have reported earlier, written by Italian couple Danilo and Anna Maria Zanzuchhi, and are focussed on the plight of families.
The artwork used is the work of David O’Connell, and may be seen in real life at St. Richard’s Church in Chichester.
Holy Week i rapidly approaching, and since this time last year I received some questions about Mass times in various Dutch churches for this busiest of times of the liturgical year, below follow Mass times for all Dutch cathedrals, except the cathedral of St. Catherine in Utrecht, for which I have been unable to find a schedule online. If anyone knows more, by all means, share it in the comments.
Cathedral of SS. Joseph and Martin
Radesingel 4, Groningen
Palm Sunday (1 April)
- 9am: Holy Mass in Latin
- 11am: Holy Mass
- 5pm: Holy Mass in Polish
Maundy Thursday (5 April)
- 7pm: Holy Mass
Good Friday (6 April)
- 2pm: Stations of the Cross for children
- 3pm: Stations of the Cross
- 7pm: Service of the Passion of the Lord
Holy Saturday (7 April)
- 11:30pm: Easter Vigil
Easter Sunday (8 April)
- 9am: Holy Mass in Latin
- 11am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Gerard de Korte
Easter Monday (9 April)
- 11am: Holy Mass
Cathedral Basilica of St. Bavo
Leidsevaart 146, Haarlem
Palm Sunday
- 10am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Jos Punt
- Noon: Holy Mass for children
Maundy Thursday
- 7:30pm: Holy Mass
Good Friday
- 3pm: Stations of the Cross
- 7:30: Service of the Passion of the Lord
- 9:30pm: Dark Matins
Holy Saturday
- 10pm: Easter Vigil
Easter Sunday
- 10pm: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Jos Punt
- Noon: Holy Mass in Indonesian
Easter Monday
- 10pm: Holy Mass
Cathedral of SS. Lawrence and Elisabeth
Mathenesserlaan 305, Rotterdam
Palm Sunday
- 11pm: Holy Mass
Maundy Thursday
- 6pm: Holy Mass
Good Friday
- 10:30am: Stations of the Cross for children
- 3pm: Stations of the Cross
- 19:30pm: Service of the Passion of the Lord
Holy Saturday
- 10:30pm: Easter Vigil, offered by Bishop Hans van den Hende
Easter Sunday
- 11am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Hans van den Hende
Easter Monday
- 11am: Holy Mass
Cathedral of Saint Anthony
Sint Janstraat 8, Breda
Palm Sunday
- 10:30am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Jan Liesen
Maundy Thursday
- 7pm: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Jan Liesen
Good Friday
- 3pm: Service of the Passion of the Lord, presided by Bishop Jan Lisen
Holy Saturday
- 9pm: Easter Vigil, offered by Bishop Jan Liesen
Easter Sunday
- 10:30: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Jan Liesen
Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Evangelist
Torenstraat 16, ‘s Hertogenbosch
Palm Sunday
- 11am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Antoon Hurkmans
Maundy Thursday
- 7:30pm: Holy Mass
Good Friday
- 3pm: Service of the Passion of the Lord
- 7pm: Stations of the Cross
Holy Saturday
- 10pm: Easter Vigil
Easter Sunday
- 10am: Holy Mass
- 11:45am: Holy Mass
Easter Monday
- 11am: Holy Mass
Cathedral of St. Christopher
Grote Kerkstraat Bij 29, Roermond
Palm Sunday
- 11:30am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Frans Wiertz
Good Friday
- 3pm: Stations of the Cross, offered by Bishop Frans Wiertz
Holy Saturday
- 8:30pm: Easter Vigil
Easter Sunday
- 11:30am: Holy Mass, offered by Bishop Frans Wiertz
Easter Monday:
- 11:30am: Holy Mass
All this information was collected by me from various parish and diocesan websites, and so may well be far from complete. A Google search or drop by the various cathedrals may give you more and more accurate information as Holy Week approaches.
The Holy Father at the 2010 Stations at the Colosseum
For the first time in Pope Benedict XVI”s papacy, the reflections for the Stations of the Cross at the Colosseum will be written by two lay people. Danilo and Anna Maria Zanzucchi are an Italian married couple founded the New Families Movement and will fittingly be writing their reflections with a focus on the family. Vatican Radio features a short interview with them.
As Cardinal Ratzinger, Pope Benedict wrote the reflections for Blessed John Paul II’s last Via Crucisin 2005, and he has continued the custom of selecting various people to write new meditations every year. Among these have been the vicar-general for Vatican City, Archbishop (now Cardinal) Angelo Comastri (2006), Msgr. (now Cardinal) Gianfranco Ravasi (2007), Cardinal Joseph Zen Ze-Kiun (2008), Archbishop Thomas Menamparampil of Guwahati, India (2009, Cardinal Camillo Ruini (2010) and Sister Maria Rita Piccione in 2011. From an initial trend to look beyond Rome, it now seems that the laity are being chosen. It’s perhaps a recognition of the fact that, when it comes to reflecting on the mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ, the Holy Spirit does not only work in the ordained.
Come Good Friday, the Stations of the Cross will once again feature prominently on this blog, although in what way, shape or form remains to be seen. In the meantime, remember that the Via Crucis is not limited to Good Friday. You can pray, walk and reflect upon Christ’s unimaginable sacrifice every day if you please.
Photo credit: Pool/Getty Images Europe
On this Good Friday we walk with Jesus our Lord along the way to His ultimate sacrifice. From His audience with Pilate to His body being laid to rest in the tomb, we are called to reflect on each step on the way. His way is our way, and His suffering is ours.
Over the course of this day, short posts will be appearing for every station of the Cross, in the form of an image, a Gospel text and a reflection. For the texts and reflections I have chosen this year to draw upon the last meditations for the Way of the Cross written by Pope John Paul II. The full text of these can be read here.
Lord, by your cross and resurrection, you have set us free. You are the Saviour of the world.
As we enter Lent on Ash Wednesday, we are faced with that eternal question: keep it on or rub it off? I am, of course, referring to the ashes we receive on our forehead that “remind us of our insignificance, and command us to soften our hearts” according to Fr. Reginald Martin.
As we are sent into the world as Mass is over, many people rub of their ash cross. Some do it so as not to get strange looks, but others in order to heed the words of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew:
“When you are fasting, do not put on a gloomy look as the hypocrites do: they go about looking unsightly to let people know they are fasting. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you fast, put scent on your head and wash your face, so that no one will know you are fasting except your Father who sees all that is done in secret; and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.” (6:16-18)
A warning against outward display in place of true piety and honesty. Many consider this also to disagree with the practice of marking our foreheads with ashes to show that we are starting Lent. Ash Wednesday being a day of fasting (nowadays the only obligatory one, together with Good Friday, during Lent) means that connecting ashes to fasting is a logical step. But is it?
As mentioned above, the ashes have a very specific role. They are sacramentals which aim to ground ourselves in our mortality and so encourage us to enter ever deeply into relations with other people and with God. Fasting serves a similar purpose, as do the other two pillars of Lent; almsgiving and prayer. As Pope Benedict XVI said in his general audience today:
This spiritual journey is traditionally marked by the practice of fasting, almsgiving and prayer. The Fathers of the Church teach that these three pious exercises are closely related: indeed, Saint Augustine calls fasting and almsgiving the “wings of prayer”, since they prepare our hearts to take flight and seek the things of heaven, where Christ has prepared a place for us.
Ashes are therefore not an outward sign of our fasting. They are both means to an end: preparation for our journey to Easter, and an ever deeper bond with the risen Lord.
Bishop Kieran Conry of Arundel and Brighton in the UK, lastly, gives another good reason not to rub off the ashes:
“Please try not to rub off your ashes as soon as you leave church, but take the sign of the cross to all those that you meet – in your school, office, factory, wherever you may be. This might just make people curious and wonder why you would do this. If you explain about Lent and Easter it might just make them think and may even awaken in them the questions that might lead to faith. Many people have a dim awareness of Lent and even ashes. It would be good to make this clear rather than dim.
“Don’t underestimate the power of this simple action and wear your ashes as not only a sign of the beginning of your Lenten journey, but also to witness to your greatest treasure in life. This small step could awaken faith in the hearts of many that you meet in a way that words could never do.”
