Dear ZENIT Family,

For the Fourth Sunday of Lent, the Gospel proposes to us part of Jesus’ answer to Nicodemus.

Nicodemus was a member of the Sanhedrin (an assembly of wise Rabbis that carried out the functions of judges and teachers), and he was also a Pharisee (a religious, political and social group, which constituted the basis of the Jewish ritual). Nicodemus had gone to find Jesus to ask Him some questions. When Jesus says to him that he must be reborn from on High, Nicodemus doesn’t understand and he admits it. Jesus exposes him: he is a teacher in Israel and he doesn’t know this.

But Nicodemus , instead of being offended, is silent and, with his humble silence not only admits his ignorance but also expresses his desire to understand better. Behind this attitude we see docility and openness. And so Jesus announces something to him. He announces His crucifixion and what stems from it. It’s something that Nicodemus doesn’t even imagine, and so Jesus refers to an example that Nicodemus does know: “Just as Moses raised the serpent in the desert, so does the Son of Man have to be lifted, so that anyone who believes in Him has eternal life.”

It helps to recall to what serpent Jesus is referring (Numbers 21:4-9), the Hebrews feel nostalgia for Egypt and speak against God. As an answer, God permits venomous serpents to bite them. Then, at the people’s request, Moses intercedes for them and, in answer to his intercession, God asks him to fashion a bronze serpent: whoever sees it will be healed of the bites and, more than that, from the effect of the venom, which is death.

Going back to the Gospel narrative, Jesus speaks to Nicodemus of the eternal life that anyone who believes in Him will have. More than that, Jesus speaks clearly to him about the contrary, about the cause of death or condemnation: “the Light having come into the world, men preferred the darkness to the Light because their deeds were evil.”

In other words, not only did the Lord anticipate the crucifixion to Nicodemus, but also what the crucifixion means: salvation. If to look at Moses’ serpent meant “salvation” at that time, now to look at Jesus Christ on the cross is eternal salvation. Because he who looks at Jesus doesn’t see a dead God but the love of a God capable of giving Himself to the point of death.

Today, we can certainly understand better what Nicodemus also understood and believed when Jesus resurrected: the crucifix is saving because it reminds us of what God did for us and also to what we are called to respond. And what God wrought did not end on Good Friday, but, in reality, it was the Sunday of the Resurrection that began. Jesus defeated death and, conquering, has given us salvation. Easter is synthesized in the cross, which includes Calvary, but which points to a living God who has given us eternal life and also wants to give us eternal life.

And what does all this have to do with us? It’s quite probable that somewhere in our homes, including on our breast, there is a crucifix. Perhaps we have become familiarized with it and, therefore, right now it doesn’t challenge us that much. Perhaps it’s the time to return to contemplate it, spend some time with it to earn eternity. Each crucifix is, in fact, a love letter, which is another way of calling us to salvation.

A few months ago a very dear person shared a song with me that I didn’t know, and whose words I’ve now memorized. It’s called “Love Letter” and refers, in fact, to the crucifix. In one part, it says:

Oh Jesus

How can it be

That seeing my heart

You loved me just as I am?

That cross,

Your love letter

For this sinner.

God, You are so good.

Yes, God is good. But goodness isn’t something that one simply receives and admires. It’s something to which one must also correspond. And here is the task assigned by this Gospel: to look at the crucifix and allow ourselves to be moved by what God inspires us, as fruit of that contemplation.