"And Jesus cried again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit." Mt. 27:50

Popular piety, new and old, oftentimes portrays Jesus in an almost whimpering attitude as He makes His way from Gethsemane to Calvary. It is quite understandable when we read of the "Suffering Servant" bearing the sins of the world, beaten and abused by blow and spittle, scourge and thorny crown. And who has not been moved to pity while meditating on the stations of the cross, wherein the Lord falls three times beneath His cross? I feel and think that such a portrayal misses out on some key elements of the passion narrative and of the sense of Who Christ really was and is.

Consider the aforementioned "Suffering Servant" canticles from Isaiah, for a starter. Certainly the "Fifth Evangelist" paints an image of Christ beaten, bruised and bloody, His very humanity effaced by the blows He bears for our transgressions. Yet, think of the passage again, as from Isaiah 50:6-7. "I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I hid not my face from shame and spitting. For the Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been confounded; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame." There is majesty in Christ while being spit upon and abused. He "sets his face like flint". I imagine from this that those who slapped and beat Christ were astonished at his resilience and his determination to look them in the eye while they did their deeds. Perhaps it partially explains why the Jewish leaders covered his face. That gaze would have penetrated deep within them. "Where can I hide from your face?" From what I know of humanity and of bullies in general, the serene yet intense look of Christ would have enraged them all the more. He refused to feel ashamed at their taunts and abuse. Showing him downcast and almost in a state of self-pity leaves out the manliness of His character in the midst of torture.

Even while on the way to the cross, Jesus shows His presence of mind, warning the women of Jerusalem to weep for themselves. Sometimes this passage is described as Him consoling them for their grief, yet there is something more prophetic here (in the traditional sense of the term): He is shaking them from their formal act of piety, as sincere as it was, to a more profound penitence on behalf of their own salvation and that of their people. "Weep not for me, but for yourselves!" Not too consoling, from a certain point of view. It should be noted that these women were not the group of ladies who accompanied Him from Galilee, but residents of the City of Jerusalem; probably nice people, but likely a part of the culture of perfunctory religious piety that remained only on the surface. Christ's words were merciful and consoling only in the sense that waking someone up from religious torpor is merciful. Then again, the most merciful form of consolation since it can lead to true repentance! I wonder if some of them walked away saying, "Why, I never!"

And again, even on the cross, Jesus maintains His equanimity of soul. His cry of abandonment, (as terrifying as it is when one considers it comes from the Divine Son, eternally united with the Father in Godhood) is the beginning of one of those most hopeful and daring songs of praise found in the Book of Psalms. In fact, the psalm contains not only references to the details of the crucifixion, but an amazing proclamation of the ultimate victory being won in that very suffering.

Now crucifixion was one of the most painful, humiliating and shameful deaths for a person to undergo, and more so in the case of Christ. Part of its pain lay in the fact that the crucified was unable to exhale, once the weight of his body prevented his diaphragm from raising the lungs. Hence, the Romans would break the legs of the crucified to hasten death, since he would be unable to lift himself up to exhale. Even given the ability to lift oneself up to let out a breath, speaking would have been most difficult. Ask anyone who has run to his limit and needs to catch his breath before trying to speak. Run of a few flights of stairs and try to talk without "taking a moment". Yet, Jesus not only spoke, but was lucid in all of his statements.

Then there is the final breath. Even in Mel Gibson's "The Passion", the final breath is portrayed rather weakly, though dramatically. The Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke all say that Jesus either cried out in a loud voice or uttered a loud cry. John's Gospel simply states, "When Jesus had received the vinegar, he said, 'It is finished; and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." As peaceful as this passing is, let's remember how the Spirit came down upon the Apostles, with a loud, rushing wind shaking the house, followed tongues of flame. Death is not a natural event, in the sense that the human soul is so intimately united to the body that the individual is one. Christ was truly human. When the soul leaves the body, there is a violence associated with it, no matter how peacefully one may appear to die.

Further, we should consider what took place when Jesus finally "yielded up his spirit": "the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom; and the earth shook, and the rocks were split; the tombs were opened." So dramatic was the event that even the hardened Roman soldiers were terrified at the earthquake and made the first profession of faith in the crucified Lord: Truly this was the Son of God!"

We know from Scripture and Tradition that the soul of Jesus went down among the dead to preach to them. Dante describes the gates of hell smashed by the entrance of Christ. I allow my imagination to envision Jesus lifting Himself up to take in a final breath, drawing all the sins of the world into His body and then with that loud cry, plunging purposefully into the shades of hades. Earth was not capable of containing Him and shuddered violently at His descent. He is the conquering hero, not the whimpering cast off. The power of that moment caused ripples of energy and grace and power to flow into the very fiber of the universe, from the belly of the earth to the heights of heaven.

There can be a tendency to view Jesus so meek that His tremendous strength of personality gets lost. The manliness of Christ is a model of strength in the face of disillusionment, betrayal and apparent failure, right up to the moment of death. His was not the way of quiet, selfish introspection, but of determined intensity in the service of His mission. He walked among us, a true man among men who was attractive to so many because of His firm resolve and His enduring strength of character. How tiring it is to think of Him so ethereally portrayed walking about sissy-like and, sadly, effeminate. Christ was no dreamer, smiling sweetly like a model social worker. He soothed wounds and healed hearts by gentle strength, but strength nonetheless.

The next time you think of Him in His suffering and are tempted to think of "Poor Jesus", remember that He chose a true poverty to enrich us, first by blasting away our indifference and softness of conscience, revealing our wounds, sometimes with violence, and then grasping us by the hand to raise us up with Himself. It is no minor feat to jump from earth to heaven. We could more easily hop to the moon and beyond. It takes a divine hand, made truly human and strong enough to raise even the dead.