The Passion narratives, born from the faith of the first witnesses, were preceded by the announcement of the kerygma through very concise and concise formulas (Acts 2:23-24). Over time, however, some clarifications became necessary, and various characters appeared in the stories, from Pilate, the Roman procurator, to Barabbas, the bandit. In early preaching, the Passion and the Resurrection were inseparable. Without the Resurrection, in fact, the death of Jesus would be incomprehensible, similar to the death of Socrates, who thought his sacrifice would confirm the validity of his message. But even the Resurrection would not be entirely intelligible without the Cross, in which Christ’s extreme solidarity shines forth. Born of faith, these stories were conceived for the faith of the Christian community. From the very beginning, after all, they have always been linked to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. By uniting the memory of the Passion and that of the Last Supper, the believing community recognized the salvific value of the “given body” and of the The “shed blood” of Jesus thus fulfills the truth of the Eucharist itself: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor 11:26).
A careful reading of these texts immediately reveals that they do not simply narrate Jesus’ last earthly hours. What we discover is the very story of God, the story of the Trinity; a verb runs through the four versions, “to deliver” (paradídomi). The first delivery is that of Jesus (Jn 19:30; Gal 2:20). But the Father also delivers (Mk 9:31), manifesting his love for humanity. The cross, last but not least, is also the story of the Spirit (Heb 9:14). The mystery of Golgotha ​​and the mystery of the Trinity—J. Moltmann observed—are two aspects of the same reality: God is love. Matthew, in his narrative, relies heavily on Mark. However, the Jesus he describes immediately appears aware of what is about to happen to him; he foresees the events, welcomes them, and interprets them authoritatively. Matthew’s Jesus is the Pantokrator, to whom belongs all power in heaven and on earth. Yet, he does not use his power to avoid the cross and death; he takes on the former and undergoes the latter, thus inaugurating the new creation (Mt 27:52-53). The narrative opens with the plot of the priests and elders gathered in Caiaphas’s house: Jesus must be arrested by treachery and killed, but without creating unrest among the people. How is it possible, the evangelist seems to be asking, that the spiritual leaders of Israel, charged with preparing the coming of the Messiah, would hand the Son of God over to the pagans? Matthew seeks an answer in the Scriptures and recognizes in Jesus the Servant of YHWH and the persecuted righteous man against whom the powerful rise up (Ps 2). But God supports his Servant. In describing the miraculous signs that followed Jesus’ death, the evangelist emphasizes how the tomb could not hold back Life.

Nailed to the cross,
your embrace,
Jesus,
never closes.
Immense solitude
of a gift
without return…
with my fragile arms
today I gather you,
my Lord,
and I listen to your dying
in silence,
your dying for me
of mad love.

Amen.

Commentary by b. Sandro Carotta, osb
Abbazia di Praglia (Italy)

Translation by f. Mark Hargreaves,
Prinknash Abbey