A Reflection from “The Cries of Jesus from the Cross” by Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen

Anger, Forgiveness, and the Crucifixion

Our Blessed Lord came to make reparation for the sin of anger, first by teaching us a prayer: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us”; and then by giving us a precept: “Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you” (Matt. 5:44). More concretely still, He added, “Whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him another two…. If a man .. . take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him” (see Matt. 5:40–41).

Revenge and retaliation were forbidden: “You have heard that it has been said: an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto you, Love your enemies” (Matt. 5:38, 44). These precepts were made all the more striking because He practiced them.

When the Gerasenes became angry at Him because He put a higher value on an afflicted man than on a herd of swine, Scripture records no retort: “And entering into the boat, He passed over the water” (Matt. 9:1). To the soldier who struck Him with a mailed fist, He meekly responded: “If I have spoken evil, give testimony of the evil, but if well, why strikest thou me?” (John 18:23).

The perfect reparation for anger was made on Calvary. We might also say that anger and hate led Our Lord up that hill. His own people hated Him, for they asked for His crucifixion; the law hated Him, for it forsook justice to condemn Justice; the Gentiles hated Him, for they consented to His death; the forests hated Him, for one of its trees bore the burden of His weight; the flowers hated Him, as they wove thorns for His brow; the bowels of the earth hated Him, as it gave its steel as hammer and nails.

Then, as if to personalize all that hatred, the first generation of clenched fists in the history of the world stood beneath the Cross and shook them in the face of God. That day they tore His body to shreds as in this day they smash His tabernacle to bits. Their sons and daughters have shattered crucifixes in Spain and Russia as they once smote the Crucified on Calvary.

Let no one think the clenched fist is a phenomenon of the twentieth century; they whose hearts freeze into fists today are but the lineal descendants of those who stood beneath the Cross with hands lifted like clubs against Love as they hoarsely sang the First International of hate.

As one contemplates those clenched fists, one cannot help but feel that if ever anger would have been justified, if ever Justice might have fittingly judged, if ever Power might have rightfully struck, if ever Innocence might have lawfully protested, if ever God might have justly revenged Himself against man—it was at that moment.

And yet, just at that second when a sickle and a hammer combined to cut down the grass on Calvary’s hill to erect a cross, and drive nails through hands to render impotent the blessings of Love incarnate, He, like a tree that bathes in perfume the axe that kills it, lets fall from His lips for the earth’s first hearing the perfect reparation for anger and hate—a prayer for the army of clenched fists, the first word from the Cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

The greatest sinner may now be saved; the blackest sin may now be blotted out; the clenched fist may now be opened; the unforgivable may now be forgiven. While they were most certain that they knew what they were doing, He seizes upon the only possible palliation of their crime and ignorance—“they know not what they do.” If they did know what they were doing as they fastened Love to a tree, and still went on doing it, they would never be saved. They would be damned.

It is only because fists are clenched in ignorance that they may yet be opened into folded hands; it is only because tongues blaspheme in ignorance that they may yet speak in prayer. It is not their conscious wisdom that saves them; it is their unconscious ignorance.