💖 HOMILY - GOOD FRIDAY 💖

First Reading - Isaiah 52:13-53:12

Second Reading - Hebrews 4:14-16,5:7-9

Gospel - John 18:1-19:42

The crucifix and the cross stand as enduring symbols of love—of a self-giving, sacrificial love offered for others. Today’s liturgy invites us to contemplate this love fully revealed on the cross. It is there, in that most painful and humiliating of deaths, that God’s mercy is made manifest for all of humanity. Through the Passion and death of Christ, the gates of salvation have been opened to all who believe in Him.

The first reading, from the Book of Isaiah, presents us with the Fourth Servant Song. It is a prophetic and deeply moving passage, unfolding in three movements. First, we witness the servant’s suffering: he is humiliated, crushed, and disfigured—yet he endures silently. His suffering is not without purpose; it is accepted willingly, offered as expiation for the sins of the people. Secondly, the people begin to see: they had misunderstood him, judged him wrongly. God Himself now speaks, revealing that the servant’s pain was not punishment for his own sins, but the burden of ours. And finally, God vindicates the servant—he shall be raised high, and his offering will bring healing and justification to many.

The identity of the “Servant” has long been debated. Some saw in him the personification of Israel, others, a prophet like Isaiah, or a faithful remnant of God's people. But for us as Christians, Jesus Christ perfectly fulfills this prophecy. He is the innocent one who bore our guilt. His Passion, word for word, mirrors the suffering described by Isaiah. What was once a mysterious promise becomes a lived reality in Christ.

The second reading, from the Letter to the Hebrews, reminds us that Jesus, though divine, did not cling to his divinity. He became truly human and entered fully into our pain and weakness. He was no stranger to suffering. He felt the lash, the thorns, the nails—and the fear, the rejection, the betrayal. He suffered as we do. And because of this, he is able to sympathize with us in our struggles. His suffering was not abstract—it was real. That’s why we can draw near to him with confidence, knowing that he understands us fully.

The Gospel recounts the Passion of Jesus in its stark and solemn detail. It shows us the full weight of sin—not in abstract terms, but in the agony and death of Christ. Jesus offers his life freely, taking upon himself the burden of our sins—past, present, and future. His Passion is not just an historical event. It is a gift, continually offered to each of us: the gift of redemption, the chance to begin again, to renounce sin, and live in grace.

Dear friends, the suffering of Jesus is a fact. It cannot be dismissed or romanticized. It was terrifying, brutal, and unjust. But that terrible event shines with eternal meaning, because it reveals how deeply God loves us—even in our sin. Good Friday becomes truly good when we allow it to transform our hearts. When we honestly confront our own sinfulness—the pride, selfishness, broken relationships, and indifference—it becomes clear that these wounds still crucify Christ. Every sin is a wound on the Body of Christ. But every act of repentance and reconciliation begins to heal those wounds.

Today, let us make this day good—not just by attending liturgy, but by seeking to repair what is broken: our relationship with God, with others, and even with ourselves. Let us bring healing where there is hurt, and forgiveness where there is resentment.

Let us also learn from Christ to alleviate the sufferings of others. He did not have to suffer, yet He chose to, for our sake. Innocent and sinless, He bore the weight of our guilt. Can we not then bear the burdens of others in love? To do so may demand sacrifice—but in giving ourselves, we become most like Christ.

On this Good Friday, let us ask: why must we carry our crosses?

First, because cross-bearing is the mark of true discipleship. Jesus said: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”

Second, because in carrying our crosses, we make reparation for our sins and participate in the redemption of the world. As St. Paul says, we fill up in our own bodies what is lacking—not in Christ’s atonement, but in the Church’s share in His suffering.

Third, because in carrying our crosses, we become imitators of Christ. “I have been crucified with Christ,” Paul writes, “yet I live—no longer I, but Christ lives in me” (Gal 2:19–20).

Let us then walk the way of the cross not in fear or bitterness, but in love and faith. Let us pray today for the grace to change our lives—to leave sin behind, and walk the path of holiness that Christ opened for us by His Passion.

May His wounds be our healing. May His cross be our hope. And may His love, poured out for us, move us to love others with the same selfless devotion.