Homily at Holy Cross House

Ronald Raab, CSC

Good Friday 2026

On this Good Friday, we reflect on the Cross of Christ, for we believe his suffering and death gives way to eternal life and communion with the Father’s love. Before Jesus died, the gospel records two piercing words from his lips, “I thirst.”

The unsatisfied thirst of Jesus is felt in our bodies, as well, when chemotherapy dries out our mouth, when medications sour our taste, when our aging body longs for refreshment. We even know the thirst that comes from addiction, when more is never enough.

As we imagine Jesus’ thirst, we also know thirst in our hearts and souls.  We grow thirsty for honesty when change in routine does not make sense to us. We thirst for consolation when we are forced to let go of relationships that have fed us in the past. We thirst for hope when we feel orphaned after outliving our family members or when we do not feel heard or seen in our aging process. We thirst for contentment as we reflect on how we have pushed God away carrying our self-sufficiency all the way since high school. We thirst for reconciliation when our human words have alienated our friendships. Our hearts thirst for joy when we second-guess our life decisions when the world seems to pass us by. We thirst at the foot of the cross for a friend who has lost a young child or when a family cannot make ends meet. We grow thirsty for justice, especially when war, violence and bombings are on the lips of leaders.  

These simple words from Jesus show his deepest humanity. Jesus’ genuine thirst reminds us that on the night before he died, he promised his Body and Blood would refresh us for all eternity. Only Christ satisfies the thirst of our soul. Only Christ quenches our thirst for forgiveness, for mercy, for peace and our desire for heaven. Love is born in our longing and thirst for Christ.

In our house, when one of us is coming to our closing days, we gather in prayer at the bedside of our brother. So often there is a blue sponge on a stick to dip into water so to moisten the lips of our brother. A few months ago, when Fr. Molinaro was near death, a group of us gathered to receive his silent teachings to us about how to die. We took turns moistening his lips with a blue sponge. As a former novice master, Fr. Ken was still teaching us to look to Jesus on the cross for our true refreshment until the very end.  

My brothers, until the end of our life, we know the words of our founder, Fr. Moreau, “The Cross of Christ, our only hope.” May we bask in such paradox, wonder and refreshment.  

God give you peace.