Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion 2022 | Cardinal Gregory

Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion from The Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle in Washington, DC, United States of America.

Homily of Cardinal Wilton Gregory, Archbishop of Washington

Timestamp: 1:40:55 – 1:50:27

Barabbas — many scholars suggest that the very name means “child of the father.” Each of the four evangelists mention him by name as the prisoner whom Pilate set free in place of Jesus. Barabbas’s crime was no petty exploit — insurrection, if not murder. He was no minor criminal; he was a very dangerous man, yet the custom had to be honored. Pilate would release a prisoner as a sign of Roman criminal clemency during this time of Passover.

We all know the story; it was incredible! We meditate to free Barabbas, a hardened criminal, rather than to free Jesus, the real and innocent son of the Father. The irony is too compelling for Christians not to be touched when we hear this gospel passage each Good Friday from St. John the Evangelist. Good Friday’s message is clear and quite simple: an innocent man went to his death rather than a guilty one — the blameless suffered for the guilty. Equally clear is the fact that you and I, in truth, are Barabbas. We have all been set free because of the death of the Innocent One.

Barabbas is merely a name in Scripture. We are those who have been set free not just from Roman Law, but also from the power of eternal death itself. Good Friday is a day during the church year when we realize how capricious criminal justice can be. Pilate’s gesture of mercy was extended to the wrong man. God’s divine justice, which is perfect, was satisfied by the death of his own son, thus making it possible for all of us to become god’s sons and daughters. 

On this Good Friday, I speak to all of you — God’s sons and daughters — to consider another issue of justice facing our own world. I ask you to think of the Barabbases that are currently on death row in many prisons throughout this nation of ours. Like the biblical Barabbas, the majority of them may be very dangerous people. A few of them may, however, be innocent of the crimes for which they stand convicted. A disproportionate number of today’s prisoners are young, people of color, Hispanic, destitute, and — for the most part — poorly educated. Most of them precisely lack a paschal reprieve.

I join with my fellow bishops throughout the United States in raising my voice against, along with that of Pope Francis, in calling Catholics and all other people of goodwill to seek an end to the death penalty in our nation. We are not asking or seeking the wholesale release of murderers and dangerous criminals back into society. We are not urging our nation to neglect its obligation to protect its citizens. We are not suggesting that dangerous people are not dangerous people. We are, however, beseeching Catholics everywhere to consider carefully the impact that capital punishment has on us as a society. Taking the life of one who has taken another’s life is most assuredly just another link in the horror of violence, of which there is far too much in our world. 

The pastors of the Church are challenging us all to consider other means to protect society that do not include the destruction of another life. Is vengeance ever a justifiable reason for the taking of a life? I realize that a family that has endured the loss of a loved one to violence must continue to live with a sorrow and a suffering that defies human expression. They have every right to find comfort, support, understanding, and solace from those who bear the name “Christian.” People who have been victims of crime, or who have lost a loved one to an act of violence, must remain uppermost in all of our hearts.

The question to be considered, however, is: “How does the taking of another life add to their comfort and consolation?” Catholic moral teaching continues to allow for capital punishment when it may be the only prudent response available that can protect science society from the violence of criminals; however, is it the only solution available to our modern criminal system? We do not now possess the means — we do now possess the means of protecting ourselves without resorting to the same act of violence that seems to overwhelm us. 

We Catholics, along with men and women of good will everywhere, must be deeply concerned about the fairness of our criminal justice systems. Even if we are not yet convinced of the unacceptable use of capital punishment, we ought to be increasingly concerned about the many people on death row whose convictions are so regularly overturned with witness recantations and with forensic evidence. We must all be deeply disturbed to consider that our justice systems are unjust to the poor, the illiterate, the mentally impeded, or those who lack the means to speak sufficiently for and about themselves.

On Good Friday this year, I ask you all to reflect in prayer on this weighty moral question of our day; yet it is not just a moral issue for our time. It was one for Pilate, for Barabbas, and for the thieves who were crucified with him — one repentant the other remorseless. On this day when we must all acknowledge that we have all been set free through the death of one who was truly and perfectly innocent, should we not consider working more aggressively for a society made more humane by disallowing yet one more act of human violence?