Wounds that Truly Hurt (Passion Sunday B)

We have to live with the fact that it is people we love that we hurt and that can hurt us the most. Wounds inflicted by enemies make of us a warrior, even fiercer than we ever had been before.  But wounds caused by a loved one send us sobbing in real pain and helplessness to a corner. And it is the inner wound in our being that truly hurts more than the physical wound that we endure momentarily. Physical wounds heal naturally leaving only some scars for reminder.

But often, we readily take notice of the external wounds oblivious of the greater pain that cuts deep inside.  Once I facilitated a Lenten retreat among lay leaders and Eucharistic ministers.  To help them begin with a proper disposition, I let them watch Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ. The film was in Aramaic but people understood it just the same and they were moved because of the graphic presentation of the passion of Jesus Christ. Many sobbed while watching Jesus receiving the blows and lashes.  Their hearts went with him as they saw the gaping wounds all over his body. Some could not stand watching the horrible manner with which Jesus’ torturers crucified him. The torture was too much. Perhaps, it was intentionally portrayed so by the film-makers to highlight the suffering of Christ and to evoke remorse from the viewers. In this aspect, the film is a tremendous success.

However, the film may put us into the risk of not noticing the real pain that Jesus endured the most as we can be transfixed by the gaping wounds, horrible bruises, and trembling hands nailed onto the wood. The gospel of Mark in today’s readings (Mk. 14:1—15:47) narrates the passion of Christ in a rather plain-spoken manner, characteristically devoid of descriptive details. Mark is contented for instance in reporting quite plainly that “they crucified him and divided up his garments by rolling dice for them to see what each should take. It was about nine in the morning when they crucified him.” That simple. No mention of blood spurting.

The simplicity of Mark’s narration however allows us to notice the wounds inflicted not by Jesus’ enemies but by his loved ones.  Let me point out four wounds that must have truly and deeply hurt him:

The wound inflicted by a kiss. A kiss is the sweetest greeting between friends. Judas turned this gesture into an act of betrayal.  Jesus had to endure being betrayed by one of his closest friends, a member of his most intimate circle of followers. Jesus was sold by a friend.  The kiss left no physical mark of wound; but it certainly cut deep inside the heart of the betrayed.

The wound inflicted by words of denial. “I don’t even know the man you are talking about!” Mark reports Peter saying this at the third instance of his denial.  Peter was the most trusted and depended on by Jesus among the apostles. Jesus even gave him the name, Peter, which means rock, because Jesus believed in his strength of character and his leadership.  With Peter’s denial, Jesus again must have experienced deep wounds that truly hurt him. There were no marks of lashes left by the words of denial; but certainly the pain of rejection reverberates deep inside.

The wound inflicted by false accusation and conviction.  The very people who chanted the Hosannas as Jesus entered Jerusalem are the same people who later demanded his crucifixion.  From the words of blessing—“Hosanna! Blessed be he who comes in the name of the Lord!”—to the words of curse and unfair conviction—“Crucify him! Crucify him!” How painful it is to see people who once believed in you now hand you over to death like a criminal!

The wound inflicted by the silence of the dearest of all. The Father was everything to Jesus. He was Jesus’ source of meaning and being. It was to Him that Jesus had complete trust and obedience. During this horrible moment of Jesus’ passion, however, the Father, the dearest of all, was silent. Distant. Tolerant of all the evil deeds inflicted upon his beloved Son. When Jesus was about to die, he cried out what must have been the most excruciating pain he had to endure as a man and as a Son: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The wound of total abandonment by the beloved Father was perhaps the greatest suffering Jesus had to bear.

Such is the suffering of Jesus Christ. His physical wounds were nothing compared to what lashed and cut him at the core of his being.

We have the capacity to hurt the Lord because he loves us. We hurt him with our betrayal. We hurt him with our denial. We hurt him with our false accusation and conviction. We hurt him when we give him a cold shoulder when he calls us.

We hurt each other too with these same wounds. We have to remember that the wounds inflicted by people dear to us are the most painful. On this Passion Sunday, we are invited to a humble examination of our way of loving.  We may have been inflicting wounds on one another. We are invited too towards the only way of healing these deep wounds—the way of forgiveness and reconciliation.

“I love you Lord... and I hurt you... I hurt too people I love. Please... forgive me!”