Each issue carries an
Archdiocese of Cincinnati.
The Passion of Jesus
Holy Week culminates the liturgical year. The Gospel
stories of Jesus' passion and death bracket the week: on Passion/Palm
Sunday, one of the three stories of Jesus' passion from the Synoptic
Gospels; on Good Friday, the passion story of John's Gospel.
As often as we have heard these Gospels proclaimed,
they still hold a power all their own. Their drama invites participation
and theatrical production. Their message invites pathos and prayer.
Their annual proclamation also invites deep theological reflection
on the question of the suffering of Jesus and its significance.
Influences on the Passion Narratives
Three factors affect the way we should view the
passion narratives. The first is the historical background. Clearly
the four evangelists knew the major details of the passion and
death of Jesus as they compiled their Gospel stories.
Early Christians recalled that Jesus had been arrested,
tortured and crucified by the Romans during the time that Pontius
Pilate was Roman prefect of Judea. They also recalled that certain
Jewish leaders were involved in a plot to harm Jesus, probably
because of some of his teachings about the Temple. Likewise the
early Christians rememberedwith embarrassmentthat
one of Jesus' own inner circle had betrayed him, another had denied
him, and the majority of disciples fled in Jesus' most critical
hour of suffering.
A second factor that shaped the passion narratives
was the Hebrew Scriptures. When early Christians, many of whom
were Jews, remembered the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus,
they did so in the context of their sacred scriptures. They remembered
Jesus' death not simply as a historical event but a divine sacrifice.
They interpreted the passion of Jesus through various Old Testament
passages, especially the song of the suffering servant (Is 52:13-
53:12), certain psalms of lament (Ps 22, 69), the wisdom image
of the suffering righteous man (Wis 2, 4 and 5), and prophetic
passages (Zech 9-14). These scriptures colored the passion narrative
with divine purpose and interpretive details. Jesus' fate was
the fulfillment of God's will revealed through the ages in the
sacred writings of Israel.
The third factor is the historical development of
the passion narratives in the early Christian decades. As one
traces the earliest to the latest editions of the passion storyfrom
Mark, through Matthew and Luke, to Johnone sees a twofold
growth in the tradition. On the one side is the lessening of Pilate's
culpable role in the crucifixion. Historically, Pilate was a notorious
Roman governor who was cruel and ineffectual. He eventually had
to be removed from office. Yet the passion narratives increasingly
portray him as weak, vacillating and finally overwhelmed by the
Jewish leadership and crowds. The comparable side of this development
is the increasingly hostile portrayal of the Jewish leadership.
Matthew and John, in particular, reflect harsh attitudes toward
certain Jews with regard to their role in Jesus' death. Scholars
are agreed that this portrait reflects the historical development
of Jewish-Christian hostilities in the early decades of the Church's
history. It is not an accurate historical record of Jesus' own
day but a retrojection of this later animosity into the narrative.
The contemporary challenge is how to read the passion narratives
without succumbing to possible anti-Jewish or anti-Semitic attitudes
that have periodically developed in Christian history.
These three factors together strongly influenced
the shape of the passion narratives, yet each version retains
a uniqueness worth exploring.
Mark's narrative is rather terse and concise, but
within it is a rich theological perspective of its own.
Mark does not shy away from the cruelty of the passion.
In the garden of Gethsemane Jesus confronts his fate in intense
prayer that the cup of suffering would pass him by (14:35-36).
Jesus quietly submits to the cruelty of arrest, torture, humiliation
and crucifixion because it conforms to God's will and was foretold
in Jesus' ministry (14:49; cf. 8:31; 9:31; 10:33-34). As Jesus
goes toward Golgotha, so great is his burden that a foreigner,
Simon of Cyrene, is enlisted to carry the cross (15:21). From
the cross itself, Jesus' prayer is the intense cry of abandonment
from a psalm of lament: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken
me?" (15:34; Ps 22:2) Mark does not wince at the suffering Jesus
underwent, for it achieves salvation for humanity (14:24).
A second element in the Markan narrative is irony.
All through Mark's Gospel, only God and demons have acknowledged
Jesus' identity as the messiah, Son of God (1:11, 24; 9:7). But
the other characters in the story wonder in amazement at his deeds
without knowing his true identity. Only at the time of the crucifixion
does a human character, a Roman centurion, acknow-ledge Jesus'
identity: "Truly, this man was the Son of God" (15:39). It is
ironic that a gentile achieves the insight no Jew in the story
achieves. Even Jesus' disciples are portrayed in Mark as rather
thick-headed, slow to catch on to Jesus' true identity (e.g.,
Mark also emphasizes the theme of kingship. Throughout
Mark the characters are filled with expectation of a royal messiah,
but they do not understand the nature of that identity. In the
passion narrative, the notion of the kingship comes to the fore
to clarify Jesus' identity by means of his mission (cf. the sixfold
mention of the title of "king"; 15:2,9,12,18,26,32). Unlike earthly
kings, this anointed king comes as a suffering servant. Paradoxically,
only when one sees Jesus on the cross does one understand that
his mission as a royal messiah is one of service and sacrifice
Matthew's passion narrative follows Mark's closely
in structure. Yet Matthew expands and edits certain parts of the
story to create his own eloquent emphases.
From the beginning of Matthew's Gospel, Jesus is
called Emmanuel, God-with-us (1:23; cf. 18:20; 28:20). Most likely,
this title serves Matthew's mixed Jewish and gentile community
well. After the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple in A.D.
70, a frequently asked question was where God could be found.
Matthew responds, in Jesus! The passion brings out the theme of
God-with-us in a subtle way at a crucial moment. In Gethsemane,
Jesus asks his disciples to be "with" him (26:38,40) in his hour
of need. Unfortunately, the disciples abandoned Jesus at the time
of his arrest (26:56). Jesus had promised to be with them in times
of similar trial (10:16-20,26-33) and even to the end of the ages
(28:20), but they do not have sufficient faith to stay with him
in his time of trial.
Although all the passion accounts note the importance
of prophecy and fulfillment in Jesus' death, only Matthew heightens
it to a major motif. A series of fulfillment citations punctuates
both the infancy and passion narratives (1:22-23; 2:5-6,15,17,23;
26:31; 27:9-10). Moreover, during the passion Jesus himself twice
observes that the scriptures are being fulfilled (26:54,56). For
Matthew the passion is not simply a miscarriage of justice but
the divinely ordained route for Jesus to fulfill his salvific
ministry (1:21). Further confirmation of the divine purpose is
found in the apocalyptic cosmic events that occur both at the
beginning and end of Jesus' life. A heavenly star announced his
arrival (2:2); an earthquake and the resurrection of the saints
accompany his death (27:51-53).
Only Matthew records the fate of the betrayer Judas
(27:3-10). Judas finally recognizes his terrible deed and tries
to reclaim his innocence by returning the 30 pieces of silver
he had taken for the betrayal. Neither he nor the Jewish leaders
who plotted against Jesus can reclaim lost innocence, however,
for they have shed "innocent blood." Ironically, Judas' suicide
heightens Jesus' innocence which is also confirmed by the pronouncement
of Pilate's wife (27:19).
Luke's narration is filled with poignant and passionate
moments. Luke intensifies the emotional impact of the passion
in a few short scenes.
One is in Gethsemane while Jesus is at prayer. So
intense is the moment that an angel comes to Jesus' aid, and Luke
records that Jesus' sweat became "like drops of blood" (22:44).
Only Luke speaks of this moment as an "agony" (from Greek agonia,
meaning the intensity of an athletic contest). Another scene occurs
during Peter's denials. Only Luke positions the scene in such
a way that Peter and Jesus can be in the same line of vision:
"...and the Lord turned and looked at Peter; and Peter remembered
the word of the Lord..." (22:61). Such scenes create enormous
Luke's portrait of Jesus as the one who seeks out
the lost to save them is well known. In the passion narrative,
he notes that Jesus continued his healing ministry even in the
midst of his own suffering. On the way of the cross, Jesus sees
the women of Jerusalem who weep for him, but he selflessly directs
their sorrow to themselves for their loss (23:27-29). Only Luke
records the famous words of Jesus from the cross, "Father, forgive
them, for they know not what they do" (23:34). Jesus also reaches
out to the one repentant thief crucified with him. Jesus says
to him, "Amen I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise"
(23:43). Paradoxically, even Jesus' persecutors are reconciled;
Jesus' passion brings peace and friendship between Herod and Pilate
Finally, Luke emphasizes that Jesus dies the death
of an innocent martyr. Pilate declares him innocent three successive
times (23:4,14,22), as does Herod (23:15), one of the thieves
crucified with him (23:41), and the centurion standing guard (23:47).
Jesus' martyrdom prepares for the future martyrs of the Church
who will be called to follow Jesus' example.
John is always the "different" Gospel, and he goes
his own way in the passion narrative as well. His is the most
dramatic and majestic portrayal.
Most important for John is to understand that Jesus
is not a victim. Rather he voluntarily lays down his life, just
as a "good shepherd" does for his sheep (10:17-18). Nothing happens
to Jesus in the passion that he is not aware of ahead of time.
No one, not even Pilate, holds power over him (19:8-11). He is
in charge of his own destiny because he is the Word made flesh,
God come to dwell in our midst (1:14). Jesus gives his betrayer
permission to go about his dastardly deed (13:27-30). He even
carries his own cross without assistance. Such is his willful
obedience unto death (19:30).
A second aspect of John's version of the passion
is that he sees it as part of a cosmic conflict between the power
of darkness and the power of light. Jesus was light that came
into the darkened world (1:1-9; 3:19-21). Jesus is the world's
light (8:12), but the sad reality is that many people prefer to
walk in darkness rather than in the light. Judas accomplishes
his betrayal by cover of night (13:30), and when Jesus' enemies
come to arrest him in the garden, it is at night. Though they
are in the presence of the "light of the world," they rely on
torches and involuntarily bend down for a moment in his presence
(18:3-6). In short, the passion brings to a climax the cosmic
drama between light and darkness, between truth and falsehood,
between life and death.
John also emphasizes, unlike the Synoptic Gospels,
that Jesus was not entirely abandoned at this death. He sees sacramental
significance in it. Only John records the act of the soldier who
lanced Jesus' side (19:34). Out of Jesus' breast comes blood and
water, two symbols of the sacramental life of the Church (eucharist
and baptism). At the foot of the cross in John are two figures
from Jesus' inner circle, his mother (never named in John!) and
the unnamed beloved disciple (19:25-27). Though these are two
historical figures, for John their "unnamed" significance is beyond
history. They are representative of a new community. Mary, the
new Eve, is mother of the Church; the beloved disciple is the
icon of the ideal disciple whose primary virtue is love. In them,
at the foot of the cross, an entirely new community of faith is
born, nourished by the sacramental life flowing from Jesus' side.
Response to the Passion
In Jesus' passion we have one story in four versions.
Seeing the four accounts of Jesus' passion in the context of their
respective Gospels helps us appreciate both their unity and diversity.
All four are faithful in recording the story of Jesus' final days.
Yet each evangelist does it with an eye toward what speaks most
powerfully to his individual community. Whether spartan, eloquent,
poignant or majestic, they all seek to present faithfully the
tradition they have inherited.
When we hear the passion story told again and again,
we should avoid the tendency to blend them into one seamless story
and ask, rather, what we learn anew from each retelling and from
each individual evangelist. Like a common picture painted by four
different artists, we have been given a multifaceted account of
Jesus' suffering and death. This fourfold model gives us multiple
ways to reflect on how Jesus' suffering brought new life into
the world, and how we ourselves can face suffering that comes
Next: Jesus, Bread of Life (by Virginia Smith)