The Way of Christ vs the Way of the World: A Good Friday Reflection on Peace, Power, and True Victory

 Good Friday

There are two ways before us: the way of violence, power, and retaliation, and the way of Christ, marked by love, sacrifice, and peace. In the Passion, especially as presented in John’s Gospel, Jesus reveals that true victory comes not through force but through self-giving love. We are invited, especially as we venerate the cross, to choose again the way of Christ, which alone breaks the cycle of violence and leads to life.

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In Jerusalem stands what is, for us, the most famous church in the world, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built by Constantine in the fourth century. The Church stands above the place of Golgotha, the hill where Christ was crucified. Within it is a small chapel called the Aedicule, which contains the remains of the cave where, as far as we can tell, Jesus was buried and rose from the dead. It is a sacred site, and each year pilgrims stream constantly to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, especially during the days of the Triduum: Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday.

These celebrations are led by the Patriarch in Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, who has presided over the Triduum liturgies for several years. This year, however, the celebrations are very different. They are taking place almost in silence. There are no pilgrims and no faithful permitted to attend in person. The liturgies unfold with only a few priests present. We are witnessing a dramatic juxtaposition. On the one hand, the Church celebrates the love, service, and peace of Jesus Christ. On the other hand, these celebrations take place in a region marked by war, with violence affecting Gaza, Lebanon, and beyond.

This contrast highlights two ways of living. In the early Church, one of the earliest names for Christians was “the Way.” Before the term “Christianity” was widely used, discipleship was understood as following a particular way of life. The Acts of the Apostles reflects this. The early Christians recognized that there are fundamentally different paths we can choose.

One path is the way of violence, oppression, warfare, and greed. This way is well summarized in a line from the Greek historian Thucydides, written about five hundred years before Christ: “The strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must.” This way continues to appear in our world. It is tempting to respond to violence with violence, to injustice with retaliation, to seek more at the expense of others. Yet this path solves nothing. From the story of Cain and Abel onward, Scripture shows how this way leads only to cycles of destruction and suffering.

Jesus offers a different way. In the Passion account from the Gospel of John, we see this clearly. Jesus is in a context of oppression and injustice, yet he does not respond with violence. He responds with peace, self-giving, and love. John presents the Passion not simply as suffering, but as glory. This section of the Gospel is often called the Book of Glory.

John’s account emphasizes that Jesus remains in control. When the soldiers come to arrest him, there is no kiss of betrayal as in the Synoptic Gospels. Instead, Jesus steps forward and asks, “Whom are you looking for?” He freely gives himself over. On the cross, he does not cry out in despair. He speaks with authority, entrusting his mother and completing his mission. He chooses the moment when his work is finished. John wants us to see that this is not defeat, but victory. Christ overcomes violence not by greater force, but through love and self-sacrifice.

This is the way we are called to follow. It is a way of forgiveness, charity, justice, and peace. Throughout history, Christians have embraced this path. Saint Francis of Assisi, during the time of the Crusades, chose not to fight but to seek dialogue. He crossed into enemy territory and met with the Sultan. Although peace was not achieved, they parted with mutual respect.

Centuries later, Pope Francis demonstrated this same spirit. During the conflict in South Sudan, he invited leaders of opposing factions to Rome. In a remarkable gesture, he knelt and kissed their feet, pleading with them to seek peace. This is the way of Christ.

Each of us faces this choice. We may be tempted toward the way described by Thucydides, but we are invited again and again to choose the way of Christ. As we come forward to venerate the cross, we not only express our love for Jesus but recommit ourselves to this path. It is a path that may not appear powerful in the eyes of the world, but it is the way that leads to true victory, peace, and life.

Let us pray for the grace of the Holy Spirit to recognize what Christ has done for us and to follow the way he has shown us, the way of love, peace, and life. 

What Does It Mean to Be Human in Christ? Holy Thursday, Service, and the Transforming Power of the Eucharist

 Holy Thursday

Holy Thursday invites us to reflect on what it truly means to be human in Christ: to live in communion, to serve others, and to be transformed by grace. Through the Eucharist, we are drawn into unity and shaped into the likeness of Jesus. Ultimately, it is not our own effort, but Christ himself who makes us fully human.

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Earlier this week, I received a message from a Purolator courier that my package was on its way. When you see those messages, you get excited, and of course I went online to track it as it made its way across the country. I went to the website, and suddenly a chat window popped up. I know it was a computer, but as I typed back and forth, it seemed surprisingly human. It asked how it could help me, I said I wanted to track my package, and we had a pleasant exchange. At the end, it said, “Have a nice day,” and I replied, “Have a nice day to you as well.” Then I stopped and thought, I just wished a computer a good day.

Artificial intelligence is all around us. There are many debates about what impact it will have. Some say it will change everything. Others think it may be overhyped. But regardless, it raises deeper questions. If we speak of artificial intelligence, what is human intelligence? What does it mean to be human? What makes us unique? And ultimately, how does God want us to live as human beings in Christ?

Over these three days, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil, we enter into what is really one continuous liturgy. You will notice that after this evening and after tomorrow’s liturgy, there is no formal dismissal. Each celebration flows into the next. Through the readings, rituals, and prayers, we are drawn into the central question: who is God, and how are we to live as human beings in Christ?

This evening, the liturgy of Holy Thursday helps us reflect on what it means to be truly human. First, we see that to be human is to live in community, especially a community that includes those on the margins. In the second reading, St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, addressing divisions within their community. They had formed factions and excluded others, even during the celebration of the Eucharist. The wealthy gathered and ate first, while the poor were left out and made to feel ashamed.

Paul strongly rebukes this behavior. The Eucharist is a celebration of Christ’s total self-gift, and such exclusion contradicts its meaning. When we receive the Eucharist, we are formed into one body. To live as human beings in Christ means to live in communion, to recognize the dignity of every member, and to build unity rather than division.

Second, the Gospel shows us that to be human is to serve. Holy Thursday is also called “Maundy Thursday,” from the Latin mandatum, meaning commandment. In John’s Gospel, Jesus gives his disciples a new commandment: to love one another as he has loved them. He then shows what this love looks like by washing their feet.

After the homily, we reenact this moment. It is a powerful reminder that as disciples, we are called to serve. True love begins when it becomes inconvenient, when it costs us something. There is a well-known story about Mother Teresa. A wealthy man once saw her caring for a dying man with severe wounds and said, “I wouldn’t do that for a million dollars.” She replied, “Neither would I. But I do it for Christ.” This is the kind of love we are called to.

Finally, we learn that to be human in Christ is to be transformed. The Eucharist is not simply a symbol; it is the gift of Jesus himself. Through it, we are changed. St. Augustine once said, “Be what you see; receive what you are.” Pointing to the Eucharist, he taught that what we receive is Christ, and in receiving him, we become more like him.

Normally, when we eat food, it becomes part of us. But in the Eucharist, the opposite happens. We become part of Christ. We are drawn into his life, his love, and his mission.

At the end of this Mass, there is no final blessing. Instead, we continue in prayer. We will process with the Blessed Sacrament and place it at the altar of repose. You are invited to remain in silent prayer, recalling Jesus in the garden and preparing to enter more deeply into his Passion. The church will remain open until midnight.

Tonight, we reflect on what it means to be human in Christ. We are called into community. We are called to serve. And above all, we are transformed by the Eucharist. It is not by our own efforts that we become fully human, but through the grace of Jesus Christ, given to us in this sacred gift.

The True Story of Holy Week: Why Jesus Is Not the Messiah We Expected

 Palm Sunday, Year A

Holy Week invites us to reflect on whether we are truly hearing the story of Christ or projecting our own expectations onto him. While many expected a Messiah of power and violence, Jesus reveals a radically different path of love, service, and sacrifice. The rituals and stories of this week are meant not just to be observed, but to transform our hearts and renew our lives.

Listen to homily here:

Read homily here:

Recently, there was a film released called Wake Up Dead Man, part of the Knives Out trilogy. I am not recommending the film, as it contains some coarse language, but it has generated significant discussion because of its religious themes. In the movie, we encounter two priests. One is not portrayed particularly well, while the other is a former boxer who experienced a profound conversion and became a priest.

One of the main characters, played by Daniel Craig, is the detective Benoit Blanc. He is something of an exaggerated character. At one point, he enters a church and speaks with the former boxer priest, leading to a striking conversation about faith.

Benoit Blanc admits that he has no faith. When asked how he feels in the church, he initially describes the emotional effect created by the architecture and the light through the windows. But as he continues, something shifts. It becomes clear that his past experience of religion was negative. He says that being in the church makes him feel as though a story is being imposed on him, one he does not believe, a story he associates with violence and misuse.

The priest responds thoughtfully. He acknowledges that the Church is full of rituals and rites, and that these are indeed forms of storytelling. But he poses a deeper question: do these stories convince us of something false, or do they resonate with something profoundly true within us, something that cannot be expressed except through story, ritual, and symbol?

That question leads directly into what we celebrate this week. As we begin Holy Week, we encounter a series of powerful rituals, rites, and stories. We enter into the Triduum: Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. We will witness the washing of feet, the veneration of the cross, and the blessing of the fire at the Easter Vigil. These are not random actions. They are stories enacted.

Holy Week draws us into what is most central to our faith: who God is and how we are called to live. These rituals and stories are meant to transform us, to shape our understanding and deepen our faith.

Today, on Palm Sunday, we are presented with two different stories, and we are invited to ask which one we are truly hearing.

When we hold palms, we are not simply reenacting a moment of praise. We are also being challenged. The people who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem had expectations. They believed he would be a Messiah like Judas Maccabaeus, who, about 150 years earlier, had driven out foreign oppressors through force. In the Book of 1 Maccabees, we read that palms were waved as he entered Jerusalem in victory.

So when the crowds waved palms for Jesus, many expected a similar story: a Messiah who would come with power, overthrow Roman rule, and restore their nation.

But that is not the story Jesus fulfills.

The Passion account shows us a very different kind of Messiah. Jesus does not come with military strength or political power. He comes in humility and service. He washes the feet of his disciples. He is betrayed, suffers violence, and responds not with retaliation but with forgiveness. He lays down his life in love.

This is the story we are invited to enter during Holy Week. It is not a story of domination, but of self-giving love. Not a story of overcoming violence with greater violence, but of transforming it through sacrifice and mercy.

Palm Sunday is our moment to choose which story we will embrace. It is an invitation to let go of false expectations and to receive the true story of Christ.

These rituals and stories are not meant to remain external to us. They are meant to shape us from within. As we enter this Holy Week, we are encouraged not only to attend the liturgies of the Triduum, but to participate in them deeply. To allow this story to enter our hearts, to change how we understand God, and to renew how we live as his disciples.