Homily 65 #

On the same Great Friday of Passion Week: a homily on the taking down of the Lord from the Cross, His burial, and the lamentation of the Most Holy Mother of God.

Today let us praise the noble Joseph together with the myrrh-bearing women, for he ministered to the body of Christ after the Crucifixion. The Evangelist calls him a rich man, who came from Arimathea. “He also was a disciple of Jesus,” it says, “and waited for the kingdom of God.”

And at the time of the voluntary and saving Passion of the Savior, having seen the terrible signs in creation—the darkening of the sun and the trembling of the earth—Joseph was filled with fear and wonder. Coming to Jerusalem, he found the body of Christ still hanging on the Cross, pierced, and with it His Mother Mary, standing there with the one disciple entrusted to her, wailing bitterly from the sorrow of her heart. And thus she cried aloud:

“Creation mourns with Me, My Son, beholding Thy unjust death.

Woe is Me, My Child, My Light and Fashioner of all creation—how shall I lament Thee now? Shall I weep for the blows to Thy cheek, the strikes upon Thy face and back, the bonds and prison, or the spittings upon Thy holy and righteous countenance, which were inflicted by the lawless in return for Thy good deeds?

Woe is Me, My Child! Though innocent, Thou wast mocked, and hast tasted death upon the Cross. How did they crown Thee with thorns, and give Thee gall and vinegar to drink? And still more—they pierced Thy most pure side with a spear.

Heaven was horrified, and the earth trembled, unable to bear the boldness of the Jews. The sun was darkened, the rocks were split open, revealing the stone-heartedness of the Jews.

I behold Thee, My beloved Child, hanging naked upon the Cross, lifeless and without light, lacking form or beauty—and for this I am pierced with sorrow in My soul. I would have preferred to die with Thee; I cannot endure to see Thee lifeless. From this moment, joy shall never again touch Me, for My Light, My Hope, and My Life—My Son and My God—has been extinguished upon the Tree.

Where now, My Child, is the glad tidings once spoken by Gabriel, when he said: ‘Rejoice, O thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee’? He called Thee King and Son of the Most High, the Savior of the world, the Life-Giver to all, and the One who taketh away sin. But now I see Thee numbered among criminals, crucified between two thieves, pierced in the side with a spear, and dead.

Therefore am I crushed with bitter grief. I do not wish to go on living, but to go before Thee into Hades. For now I have been deprived of My Expectation, My Joy, and My Gladness—My Son and My God.

Woe is Me! Not even at Thy wondrous birth did I suffer as I do now, O Master. My very womb is torn with pain as I behold Thy body nailed to the Tree.

Glorious was Thy birth, O Jesus—but now terrifying is Thy death. Thou alone didst pass through the Virgin’s womb without corruption, preserving the seal of My virginity. Thou didst make Me the Mother of Thy Incarnation, yet didst also preserve Me a virgin even afterward.

I know that Thou sufferest for Adam—but My soul is seized with sorrow, and I weep bitterly, marveling at the depth of Thy mystery.

Hear, O heaven, and sea, and give ear, O earth, to the cry of My weeping: behold, your Creator suffereth at the hands of the high priests! The only Righteous One is slain as a lawless man for the sake of sinners.

Today, the prophecy of Symeon has come upon Me: for now the spear pierces My soul, as I behold Thy torment at the hands of the soldier.

Woe is Me—whom shall I call to weep with Me? With whom shall I share the outpouring of My tears? For all have abandoned Thee, Thy disciples and friends, who once rejoiced in Thy wonders.

Where is the company of the seventy disciples? Where are the chief apostles?

One of them betrayed Thee to the Pharisees for silver. Another, out of fear, denied Thee before the high priest, swearing an oath that he did not even know Thee as a man.

Only I, Thy handmaiden, O my God, remain here weeping, standing with the guardian of Thy words and Thy beloved disciple.

Woe is Me, O Jesus—Thy most precious Name! How can the earth even remain standing, bearing Thee as Thou hangest naked upon the Cross—Thou who didst lay its foundation upon the waters at the beginning?

Thou who didst give sight to many blind men, who didst raise the dead by Thy word and by the movement of Thy divine power!”

Come, and see the mystery of God’s providence—how the One who gives life to all was put to death by an accursed death.

Hearing this, Joseph drew near to the Mother, who was weeping bitterly. When Mary saw him, she spoke to him tenderly: “Hasten, noble Joseph, go to Pilate, that lawless judge, and ask to take down from the Cross the body of thy Master—My Son and my God. Go quickly and precede Me, thou who sharest in Christ’s teaching, thou secret apostle, companion of the Kingdom of God, and ask for that lifeless Body which is nailed to the tree and pierced in the side.”

“Suffer with Him,” she said, “faithful one, and for this thou shalt receive a double crown after the Resurrection of Christ: honor and veneration from the ends of the earth, and eternal life in heaven.”

Joseph was moved to tears by her sorrowful words. He did not say, “The priests will rise up against me and persecute me; the Jews will stir up trouble and stone me; the Pharisees will plunder my wealth; I shall be cast out of the synagogue.” He said none of these things, but considered them as nothing. He paid no regard to his own life, that he might gain Christ.

With boldness he entered and approached Pilate, and said, “Give me, O governor, the body of that Stranger Jesus, who was crucified between two thieves, slandered by the high priests out of envy, and mocked unjustly by the soldiers.

Give me the body of that Jesus, whom the scribes called the Son of God, and whom the Pharisees named the King. It was He of whom thou didst command the inscription to be placed above His head, reading: ‘This is Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’

O Pilate, give me the body of Him whose disciple betrayed Him to the priests for silver—the very One whom the prophet Zechariah foresaw and wrote of, saying: ‘Give Me My price, or refuse it’; and they set down thirty pieces of silver, the price of Him that was valued, whom they of the children of Israel did value.

I ask for the body of Him of whom Caiaphas prophesied that year, declaring it was better for one man to die for the whole world. His prophecy was not his own, but he was high priest that year.

Of such men the prophet Jeremiah said: ‘Many shepherds have ruined My vineyard.’ And again David said of them: ‘The rulers of the people gathered themselves together against the Lord and against His Christ.’

Solomon, too, spoke of them: ‘They devised and were deceived, for their malice blinded them. They said among themselves: Let us capture the Righteous One, let us wear Him out with mockery and wounds, and condemn Him to a dishonorable death.’

I ask for the body of Jesus—the one who answered thy inquiry, saying: ‘I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life’; and, ‘Thou couldest have no power at all against Me, except it were given thee from above.’

It was because of Him that thy wife begged thee, saying: ‘Have thou nothing to do with that just man: for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him.’

O Pilate, give me the body of the Crucified One, the One whom, when He entered Jerusalem, children met with palm branches, crying: ‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’

At the sound of His voice, even Hades trembled, and released the soul of Lazarus, who had already lain four days dead. It was of Him that Moses wrote in the Law: ‘Ye shall see your Life hanging before your eyes.’

I desire the lifeless body of Him whose Mother bore Him as a virgin, without knowing a man. Of Him the prophet Isaiah said to Ahaz: ‘Behold, a virgin shall conceive in her womb, and shall bring forth a Son, and they shall call His name Emmanuel.’

Of Him also David prophesied, saying: ‘They pierced My hands and My feet; they numbered all My bones.’

Give me, O governor, the body of Jesus who died upon the Cross, of whom thou thyself didst say to the Jews who demanded His death: ‘I am innocent of the blood of this just person.’ Then thou washed thy hands and had Him scourged, and gave Him over to death.

Of Him the prophet said: ‘I gave My back to the smiters, and My cheeks to them that plucked off the hair: I hid not My face from shame and spitting.’

O Pilate, I ask for the body of that Nazarene—at whose name demons fled from the possessed, crying out: ‘What have we to do with thee, Jesus, Thou Son of God? Art thou come hither to torment us before the time?’

It was also of Him that God the Father Himself bore witness from heaven, when He was baptized in the Jordan, saying: “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

Of Him the Holy Spirit spoke through Isaiah: “He was led as a sheep to the slaughter by lawless men, and was delivered up unto death.”

O Pilate, give me His body to take down from the Cross. I desire to lay Him in my own tomb, in which no one has yet been laid. There is no benefit to you in a dead body. All that was prophesied of Him has now been fulfilled.

“Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows… and with His stripes we are healed.” He was “numbered with the transgressors,” and they said, “Let us destroy the memory of Him from the earth, and let His name be remembered no more.” Therefore, God desired to remove sorrow from His soul and to grant Him the inheritance of the strong.

It is written of Him: “And by the blood of Thy covenant, Thou hast set free Thy prisoners out of the pit wherein is no water.”

When Pilate heard all these things spoken by Joseph, he marveled. He summoned the centurion and asked whether Jesus, who had been crucified, was already dead. Learning from the centurion that He was, he gave the body to Joseph to bury as he wished.

Then Joseph bought a linen shroud and took down the body of Jesus from the Cross. Nicodemus also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds’ weight, and they anointed the body of Jesus and wrapped it in the linen.

And Joseph cried aloud, saying:

“O Christ, Sun that never setteth, Creator and Lord of all creation, how shall I touch Thy most pure body, which is untouchable even to the heavenly powers who minister unto Thee with fear?

With what kind of linen shall I wrap Thee, who coverest the heavens with clouds and clotheth the earth in mist? What ointments shall I pour upon Thy most pure and holy body—Thou to whom Persian kings once brought gifts with fragrant offerings and fell down to worship as God, foreseeing Thy death for the whole world?

What funeral hymns shall I sing at Thy departure, to Thee whom the Seraphim ceaselessly praise with silent voices on high? How shall I bear Thee in my mortal hands—Thou who invisibly bearest all creation, O Lord? How shall I lay Thee in my humble tomb—Thou who with a word didst establish the heavens, and who restest upon the Cherubim with the Father and the Holy Spirit?

Yet, all of this Thou dost willingly endure by Thy providence. For Thou goest down to Hades in order to bring Adam and Eve, fallen through transgression, back into Paradise—and together with them, raise the dead by the power of Thy divinity.

Therefore, proclaiming these things, I bury Thee, my merciful God, as I have been taught by the Holy Spirit: “Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us.”

And they laid Him in the tomb, and rolled a great stone before the entrance of the tomb.

And the Pure Virgin wept, saying:

“From this moment, joy shall never again touch Me. For My Light and My Gladness has descended into the tomb. O women bearing myrrh, why do you stand still? Weep and lament bitterly with Me, for My Light and yours has been slain, and is now laid in the tomb.

Now I have been deprived of My Hope, My Joy, and My Gladness—of My Son and my God. Woe is Me, My heart is pierced with sorrow. O Sun that never setteth, eternal God, Creator of all, and Fashioner of the world—how hast Thou entered the tomb? Didst Thou not speak Thy word unto Thy handmaiden, O Word of God? Wilt Thou not show compassion, O Lord, on the one who gave Thee birth?

I think now that I shall never again hear Thy voice, nor behold the beauty of Thy countenance. Already Thou art hidden from My eyes, O My Son. I shall not depart from Thy tomb, O My Son, nor shall My tears cease to flow—I, Thy handmaiden.

Why hast Thou left Me alone, O My Son? I shall go with Thee even into Thy little tomb. I beg Thee, O My Son and my God, heal the wound in My soul, O Child. Rise again on the third day, as Thou Thyself hast promised, and turn My bitter sorrow into joy—for Thou art able to do whatsoever Thou wilt, even though Thou hast willingly entered into the grave.”

And the Lord, in secret, answered her: “O My Mother, how could the depth of My compassion be hidden from Thee? I suffer this in order to save My creation."

Let us, then, as sinners, praise and glorify the Holy Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.