As we find ourselves in this greatest season of the Church and are subsumed into the heart of the Paschal mystery, let's think about the humanity of Our Blessed Lord. It was through His human Body that He chose to save us and in fact did save us. So, the Body of Christ, in its Flesh and bloodiness, should inspire some meditation and consideration from us.
Let's first begin considering that the Flesh and bones of the Incarnation were imbued with the Divinity, so on their own they could not suffer or bear pain. All the usual maladies that accompany our human nature in the flesh were not "natural" to Our Lord as they are to us, for He was not fallen as we are. Christ did not have what we could term a "natural humanity" as we do but rather what we could call a "supernatural humanity." And that supernatural humanity had as its sole end to bear the pain of sin of all human history. He created His own Body for the sole purpose of enduring agony — the agony of the ages, the physical effect of every sin ever committed by every last person. Christ bore in His flesh for all humanity what no single individual human could bear even for himself, for such is the weight and agony and burden of sin in the flesh.
As Our Blessed Lord hung on the Cross in His Flesh, He bore the actual physical pain, the physical effects of all sin scattered across all time, in one single moment, for all time summed up in this instant of time — all collapsed, crashing into this solitary terrible moment, as the spiritual pain of sin He bore in His Soul, the physical pain of sin He bore in His Flesh. This is why no mere man with just natural humanity could suffice for the eternal sacrifice — no man could bear it. The humanity of Our Lord was no natural humanity; it was completely informed by His Divinity, making it a supernatural humanity. By itself, His humanity was not subject to pain, disease or even death.
Our Lord permitted the usual afflictions resulting from our sin to be felt in His Flesh, but they could not approach Him without His Divine consent, for this was not a Body trapped by the effects of sin. He spoke time and again of His hour having not yet arrived, and until it did, He was untouchable. He moved right through crowds seeking to rip him apart, walking as the Gospel tells us straight through their midst when they were ready to hurl Him over the cliff. Recall also that He said, "No one takes my life from me. I have the power to lay it down and take it up again." Christ, Himself, decided the time, manner and circumstances of His own death, in the Body He specifically designed for this end. Think then of this Body laying lifeless in the tomb from Good Friday until the moments before dawn on that first Easter Sunday. It did not undergo corruption, it did not experience decomposition, for those are the further effects of sin. No, it laid there waiting, anticipating its Resurrection as the Master Creator of it re-vivified it with a splendor and glorious eruption of Divine power never before asserted in all history.
Scientists who have studied the shroud of Turin that many believe is the burial cloth of Our Blessed Lord have concluded that the image on the Shroud was produced by 34,000 billion watts of energy, VUV energy to be scientific about it — 34 trillion watts because that's how much light emitted in a split second from inside a whipped, scourged, crucified Corpse to burn its image onto the cloth. But beyond the actual science of all of it, meditate for a moment of the glorified Body itself and Our Lord's reanimation in the flesh. Prior to this moment in the tomb, His sacred Flesh had experienced nothing but pain and suffering.
God felt the pain of hunger, the cold wind, the exhaustion of the Body, thirst, the soreness of feet on the hard stone-covered ground and, of course, the piercing of spikes pinning Him to the wood of the Cross. And remember, wood was the first and last thing that His Body felt on this earth — from the manger to Golgotha. But here, underneath Him in the tomb was rock, not wood. The first sensation His resurrected Flesh would have would be stone. Imagine that first instant He opened His eyes the tomb illuminated from within by His own supernatural, supra-nuclear blast of Divinity reunited with His body. He had promised this, this very moment, that death would not have the last and final word. He — Life itself — would have the final say and dispatch death and its sad effects to the netherworld. And in dispatching death, He not only merely disposed of it, He made it suffer a most humiliating defeat, blown to pieces in the glory of a Divine blast of energy.
This was the beginning of an entirely new creation, and as the former creation had begun with the blast of light, "let there be light," so too the new creation began but with an even more brilliant surge and exercise of Divine power. Assuming Our Blessed Lord touched His own sacred Wounds, what joy, what infinite joy would flood His Soul as He examined the marks of agony now translated into scars of victory. The tears on His forehead were the markers for the placement of His Divine Crown.
How was it for Him, walking out from the tomb, so glorious, so resplendent with victory as the conquering King arriving back from battle? Now, His Body, His flesh which had borne so much pain was now accorded its due, able to experience and feel the beauty and joy of creation on a level it was denied before. Tombs, walls, doors, could no longer contain Him as He had willed that they do before. All the earth became a playground, as it were, for its Creator. Imagine as He walked on the ground, it would now be supple and warm and embracing of His beautiful feet, those same feet the Psalmist spoke of. As He breathed, the life of the air which He created filled His lungs and blew back out. Through His eyes, He looked out on a world He not only created and brought into existence but now had been redeemed by Him.
He gave earth life once, and now He had given it a new and better life. And how He longed for all His most beloved creatures — those He made in His own image and likeness to share in His same vision — through His very eyes. He used His Body to make the fire by the seashore to cook fish for the Apostles. What must Our Beloved Savior have been thinking as He touched the wood and arranged it to make the fire — Divine irony? Wood, which was the first element of creation and the last to press upon His flesh, was now picked up in His resurrected Flesh and used to make a fire to cook a meal for His loved ones.
From all of us here at Church Militant and St. Michael's Media, a very Holy, Happy Easter to each one of you and your loved ones. God love you and keep you and bring you to everlasting Easter joy.