The image of God that ripped
us from the hands of death
On Sunday evening, 2 May , before
leaving Turin, the Holy Father went to the Cathedral where he knelt in
prayer before the solemnly exposed Shroud. This was the culminating
moment of a day spent in recalling Jesus' suffering and sorrow. The Pope
then gave a Meditation in Italian of which the following is a
This is a moment to which I have been
looking forward. I have stood before the Holy Shroud on various
occasions but this time I am experiencing this Pilgrimage and this
moment with special intensity: perhaps this is because the passing years
make me even more sensitive to the message of this extraordinary Icon;
and I would say above all
this is because I am here now as the Successor of Peter, and I carry in
my heart the whole Church, indeed, the whole of humanity. I thank God
for the gift of this Pilgrimage and also for the opportunity to share
with you a brief meditation inspired by the subtitle of this solemn
Exposition: "The Mystery of Holy Saturday".
One could say that the Shroud is the
Icon of this mystery, the Icon of Holy Saturday. Indeed it is a
winding-sheet that was wrapped round the body of a man who was
crucified, corresponding in every way to what the Gospels tell us of
Jesus who, crucified at about noon, died at about three o'clock in the
afternoon. At nightfall, since it was Parasceve, that is, the eve
of Holy Saturday, Joseph of Arimathea, a rich and authoritative member
of the Sanhedrin, courageously asked Pontius Pilate for permission to
bury Jesus in his new tomb which he had had hewn out in the rock not far
Having obtained permission, he bought a
linen cloth, and after Jesus was taken down from the Cross, wrapped him
in that shroud and buried him in that tomb (cf. Mk 15:42-46). This is
what the Gospel of St Mark says and the other Evangelists are in
agreement with him.
From that moment, Jesus remained in the
tomb until dawn of the day after the Sabbath and the Turin Shroud
presents to us an image of how his body lay in the tomb during that
which was chronologically brief (about a day and a half), but immense,
infinite in its value and in its significance.
Holy Saturday is the day when God remains
hidden, we read in an ancient Homily: "What has happened? Today the
earth is shrouded in deep silence, deep silence and stillness, profound
silence because the King sleeps.... God has died in the flesh, and has
gone down to rouse the realm of the dead" (Homily on Holy Saturday,
PG 43, 439). In the Creed, we profess that Jesus Christ was
"crucified under Pontius Pilate, died and was buried. He descended to
the dead. On the third day, he rose again".
Dear brothers and sisters, in our time,
especially after having lived through the past century, humanity has
become particularly sensitive to the mystery of Holy Saturday. The
concealment of God is part of contemporary man's spirituality, in an
existential almost subconscious manner, like a void in the heart that
has continued to grow larger and larger.
Towards the end of the 19th century,
Nietzsche wrote: "God is dead! And we killed him!". This famous saying
is clearly taken almost literally from the Christian tradition. We often
repeat it in the Way of the Cross, perhaps without being
fully aware of what we are saying.
After the two World Wars, the lagers
and the gulags, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, our epoch has
a Holy Saturday: this day's darkness challenges all who are wondering
about life and it challenges us believers in particular. We too have
something to do with this darkness.
Yet the death of the Son of God, Jesus
of Nazareth, has an opposite aspect, totally positive, a source of
comfort and hope. And this reminds me of the fact that the Holy Shroud
acts as a 'photographic' document, with both a "positive" and a
"negative". And, in fact, this is really how it is: the darkest mystery
of faith is at the same time the most luminous sign of a never-ending
Holy Saturday is a "no man's land"
between the death and the Resurrection, but this "no man's land" was
entered by One, the Only One, who passed through it with the signs of
his Passion for man's sake: Passio Christi. Passio hominis. And
the Shroud speaks to us precisely about this moment
testifying exactly to that unique and
unrepeatable interval in the history of humanity and the universe in
which God, in Jesus Christ, not only shared our dying but also our
remaining in death
the most radical solidarity.
In this "time-beyond-time", Jesus Christ
"descended to the dead". What do these words mean? They mean that God,
having made himself man, reached the point of entering man's most
extreme and absolute solitude, where not a ray of love enters, where
total abandonment reigns without any word of comfort: "hell". Jesus
Christ, by remaining in death, passed beyond the door of this ultimate
solitude to lead us too to cross it with him.
We have all, at some point, felt the
frightening sensation of abandonment, and that is what we fear most
about death, just as when we were children we were afraid to be alone in
the dark and could only be reassured by the presence of a person who
Well, this is exactly what happened on
Holy Saturday: the voice of God resounded in the realm of death. The
unimaginable occurred: namely, Love penetrated "hell". Even in the
extreme darkness of the most absolute human loneliness we may hear a
voice that calls us and find a hand that takes ours and leads us out.
Human beings live because they are loved and can love; and if love even
penetrated the realm of death, then life also even reached there. In the
hour of supreme solitude we shall never be alone:
Passio Christi. Passio hominis.
This is the mystery of Holy Saturday!
Truly from there, from the darkness of the death of the Son of God, the
light of a new hope gleamed: the light of the Resurrection. And it seems
to me that, looking at this sacred Cloth through the eyes of faith, one
may perceive something of this light. Effectively, the Shroud was
immersed in that profound darkness that was at the same time luminous;
and I think that if thousands and thousands of people come to venerate
— without counting those who
contemplate it through images
it is because they see in it not only darkness but also the light; not
so much the defeat of life and of love, but rather victory, the
victory of life over death, of love over hatred. They indeed see the
death of Jesus, but they also see his Resurrection; in the bosom of
death, life is now vibrant, since love dwells within it.
This is the power of the Shroud: from
the face of this "Man of sorrows", who carries with him the passion of
man of every time and every place, our passions too, our sufferings, our
difficulties and our sins
Passio Christi. Passio hominis
from this face a solemn majesty shines, a paradoxical lordship. This
face, these hands and these feet, this side, this whole body speaks. It
is itself a word we can hear in the silence. How does the Shroud speak?
It speaks with blood, and blood is life! The Shroud is an Icon written
in blood; the blood of a man who was scourged, crowned with thorns,
crucified and whose right side was pierced. The Image impressed upon the
Shroud is that of a dead man, but the blood speaks of his life. Every
trace of blood speaks of love and of life. Especially that huge stain
near his rib, made by the blood and water that flowed copiously from a
great wound inflicted by the tip of a Roman spear. That blood and that
water speak of life. It is like a spring that murmurs in the silence,
and we can hear it, we can listen to it in the silence of Holy Saturday.
Dear friends, let us always praise the
Lord for his faithful and merciful love. When we leave this holy place,
may we carry in our eyes the image of the Shroud, may we carry in our
hearts this word of love and praise God with a life full of faith, hope