Ecce lignum crucis,
in quo salus mundi pependit.
Behold the wood of the cross
on which the salvation of the world was suspended.
Come, let us adore!
Today, our Lord dies. He is put to death by the Jewish Sanhedrin, the Roman Governor, and Our Sins.
Today, we enter the tomb.
Today, consummatum est.
Good Friday is the only day of the year on which Mass is not said. Our reflection, more so than usual, is upon a cruel instrument of torture, a gracious instrument of salvation.
For Christians, it's all about Easter, the Resurrection. But the resurrection is in some ways the most normal thing that happens in the Triduum. Of course God rises from the dead, didn't He say He could take up His life again? The mystery, the moment, is today.
The mystery is that God dies.
We stand at the foot of the cross tonight with Mary, his mother - our mother now. We gaze upon Him whom they have pierced - whom we have pierced. We flinch at the awful reality of the price of our sins - the price of our salvation.
Who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.
Rather, he emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
coming in human likeness;
and found human in appearance,
he humbled himself,
becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.
Cum ergo accepisset Iesus acetum dixit
et inclinato capite tradidit spiritum.