| | Paradoxes on Calvary | | Msgr. Thomas J. McDonnell | | |  Academically, I believe the more proper term would be antinomies—truths which are logically incompatible but which are reconciled on a higher level. St Bonaventure pursued the same idea in his development of the idea of the coincidences of opposites. I have, however, deliberately avoided the use of these terms. I do not believe that the Mystery of the Cross should ever be approached in analytical, abstract terms. Rather the spiritual dimensions and dynamics of the Cross must be personalized.
The most obvious paradox of Calvary is the basic truth of the Mystery of the Cross—the truth that through Christ’s death we are heirs of true Life. This, of course, must be the focus of our spiritual approach to the Cross. And it reminds us of the many deaths associated with the Christian life.
Many Deaths
There is the death to sin symbolized by baptism—dying with Christ and rising with Him to new life. There is the dying to self (emptying one’s self-will in service to others) to which we are called at each Eucharist: “Do this in memory of me.” And finally, there is the truth of physical death which leads us to Eternal Life in Christ.
Because of our exposure to films such as Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, our imagination is quite conscious of how Christ was lifted up on the Cross. But again a paradox appears. It seems as if Christ was passive (being lifted up) but in reality He was lifting earth and humanity (each one of us) to heaven.
As one kneels before the Cross, one must focus on other seeming contradictions. Looking at Christ’s arms bound by nails to the wood of the Cross, we realize that they are in truth stretched out in His desire to embrace the whole world. And, as we shall see as we point out how part of our vocation is to un- crucify the Lord, we must never forget this truth. |
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The three Synoptic authors note how darkness covered the earth at the time of the crucifixion. Such seems to be a symbol of the desire of the powers of the world to extinguish the Light of the World. The poet Nahum Tate vividly expresses this paradoxical idea:
Long ago,
Flame burst out of a secret pit,
Crushing the world with such a light
The day-sky fell to moonless black,
The kingly sun to hateful night.
But there is another type of darkness about which the Psalmist (88) speaks when he cried: “My only companion is darkness.” It is a type of psychic darkness which even blots out any redemptive vision. It is, in my opinion, this type of psychic darkness which led Christ himself to cry; “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” And we are reminded that there are so many in our parishes and dioceses who are shrouded in such darkness.
There are many reasons for this. It may be because intimacy with pain does not allow them to get beyond their own feelings. Or in the case of the poor, it may be because they are just worn out by life. They are just too tired to pray. The anonymous author of the Ancient Rule reminds us that we have an obligation to pray for these souls.
Though I am not an expert in art, I have noticed that there are generally two representations of Christ on the Cross. The first is that which shows Him before the centurion pierced His heart with a spear. As one contemplates such a representation, one can only stand in awe of how a single three or four-inch muscle such as the heart could carry an infinite number of individuals in it. Each one of us was mysteriously but realistically contained in His reconciling sacrificial offering to the Father. ...Contd. | | |
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