On the Passion, Seventeenth Sermon

Our last sermon, dearly beloved, whose promised remainder we now wish to give, had reached the point in the argument where we were speaking of the cry that the crucified Lord uttered to the Father. We told the simple and unthinking hearer not to take the words that begin “My God” in the sense that, when Jesus was fixed to the wood of the cross, the almighty power of the Father’s Godhead had gone away from him. For God’s nature and man’s were so completely joined in him that the union could not be destroyed by punishment or by death. While each substance kept its own properties, God neither held aloof from the suffering of his body nor was made capable of suffering by the flesh, because the Godhead that was in the one who suffered did not itself suffer. And so, in keeping with the nature of the Word made man, he who was made in the midst of all things is the same as he through whom all things were made. He who is arrested by the hands of wicked men is the same as he who is bound by no limits. He who is pierced with nails is the same as he whom no wound can touch. Finally, he who underwent death is the same as he who never ceased to be eternal. So both facts are established by unmistakable signs: the truth of the humiliation in Christ and the truth of the majesty. For divine power joined itself to human frailty for this purpose: that God, while making what was ours his own, might at the same time make what was his ours. The Son, therefore, was not separated from the Father, nor the Father from the Son, and the unchangeable Godhead and the inseparable Trinity admitted no division. For although the task of taking flesh belonged in a special way to the only Son of God, yet the Father was no more separated from the Son than the flesh was separated from the Word. [a]

Jesus, therefore, cried with a loud voice, “Why have you forsaken me?” to make known to all how it was fitting that he should not be rescued, not be defended, but be handed over into the hands of cruel men; that is, that he should become the Savior of the world and the Redeemer of all, not through misery but through mercy, not through want of help but through the resolve to die. But what must we think the interceding power of his life to be, who died and rose again by his own power? For the blessed apostle says that the Father “did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all”; and again he says, “For Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, so that he might make her holy.” And so the giving up of the Lord to his passion was as much the Father’s will as his own. So not only did the Father “forsake” him, but in a certain sense he also abandoned himself, not in hasty flight but in a willing withdrawal. For the might of the Crucified held itself back from those wicked men, and, to make use of a hidden plan, he refused to make use of his open power. For how would he who had come to destroy death and the author of death by his passion have saved sinners if he had resisted his persecutors? This, then, had been the belief of the Jews: that Jesus, against whom they had been able to commit such unholy cruelty, had been forsaken by God. For, not understanding the mystery of his wonderful endurance, they said in blasphemous mockery, “He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he is the King of Israel, let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe him.” Not at your blind will, you foolish scribes and wicked priests, was the Savior’s power to be displayed, nor was the redemption of humankind to be put off in obedience to the evil tongues of blasphemers. For if you had wished to recognize the Godhead of the Son of God, you would have paid attention to his countless works, and they must have confirmed you in that faith which you so deceitfully promise. But if, as you yourselves admit, it is true that he saved others, why have so many great miracles, done under the public gaze, done nothing to soften the hardness of your hearts, unless it is because you have always so resisted the Holy Spirit as to turn all God’s benefits toward you into your own destruction? For even if Christ came down from the cross, you would still remain in your crime. [b]

So the insults of empty triumph were scorned, and the Lord’s mercy, in restoring the lost and the fallen, was not turned aside from the path of its purpose by abuse or reviling. For a matchless victim was being offered to God for the world’s salvation, and the slaying of Christ, the true Lamb, foretold through so many ages, was bringing the sons of promise over into the freedom of the faith. The new covenant was also being ratified, and in the blood of Christ the heirs of the eternal kingdom were being enrolled. The High Pontiff was entering the Holy of Holies, and the spotless Priest was passing in through the veil of his flesh to intercede with God. In short, so plain a passing was taking place from the law to the Gospel, from the synagogue to the church, from many sacrifices to the one Victim, that when the Lord breathed his last, that symbolic veil, which hung before the inner part of the temple and its holy recess and shut them off, was torn by sudden force from top to bottom. For the Truth was taking the place of figures, and forerunners were no longer needed in the presence of the one they announced. To this was added a terrible upheaval of all the elements, and nature herself withdrew her support from Christ’s crucifiers. And although the centurion in charge of the crucifixion, frightened by what he had seen, said, “Truly this man was the Son of God,” yet the wicked hearts of the Jews, harder than all tombs and rocks, are not reported to have been pierced by any heartfelt sorrow. So it seems that the Roman soldiers were then readier to recognize the Son of God than the priests of Israel were. [e]

Since, then, the Jews, deprived of all the holiness imparted by these mysteries, turned their light into darkness and their “feasts into mourning,” let us, dearly beloved, prostrate our bodies and our souls and worship the grace of God that has been poured out on all nations. Let us beg the merciful Father and the rich Redeemer from day to day to give us his help and enable us to escape all the dangers of this life. For the crafty tempter is present everywhere and leaves nothing free of his snares. With God’s mercy helping us, which is stretched out to us amid all dangers, we must always resist him with steadfast faith, so that, though he never stops attacking, he may never succeed in his assault. Let everyone, dearly beloved, keep the fast devoutly and profit by it, and let no excesses spoil the benefits of a self-restraint we have found good for both soul and body. For the things that belong to sobriety and self-control must be kept the more carefully at this season, so that a lasting habit may be formed from a brief zeal. Whether in works of mercy or in strict self-denial, let no hours be left idle by the faithful, since, as the years increase and time slips by, we are bound to increase our store of works and not squander our opportunities. And to devout wills and religious souls God’s mercy will be granted, that he may enable us to obtain what he enabled us to desire, who lives and reigns with our Lord Jesus Christ his Son and with the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen. [g]