Like the Jews at the time of Jesus, we are always reluctant to believe in a crucified Messiah. We prefer to believe in a strong God who intervenes unfailingly and whenever we call out to him. On this Passion Sunday we are reading Matthew's account of Jesus' trial. Among the traits of Christ there is one that fascinates in this account: his silence. "Jesus was silent". He is silent before the High Priest, and he is silent before Pilate. A silence that is only broken for a single moment before death - the loud cry from the Cross. It seems to be the silence the Prophet Isaiah referred to in the first reading when he says: "The Lord has given me a disciple's tongue."

There had been a build-up during Jesus' ministry leading to his trial and eventual crucifixion, just as there has been a build-up for us during the Sundays of Lent leading to the real Jesus who transpires from the Passion narrative. The accounts of the Passion cannot be read ignoring everything that preceded them. History does not say everything, not even what is essential on this point. It is by faith that we know who Jesus is and that ultimately, together with the Jews of his time, we all assume responsibility for his death.

The evangelists let the truth of Jesus and about Jesus emerge in the way they narrate his trial. There, it is also we who are on trial when we attempt to bring God to judgment. In this sense, faced with Jesus as he stands before his judges, this trial is not simply a matter of historical record but is enacted in every encounter of faith. No-one today is in a position to know what in these narratives is actually factual reportage. But a concern about whether this is exact history can distract us from the central issue.

Some modern scholars have argued that the Passion stories began as a series of readings to be used by believers tracing the last hours of Jesus through the streets of Jerusalem, a sort of primitive 'Stations of the Cross'. They have always had the character of liturgy and drama; they have always required the reader to stand in particular places, to find himself or herself somewhere in the map traced by the history of Jesus in his suffering, and so to find truth and judgment.

We have to keep in mind that Matthew wrote this narrative for Christians, for those who were already believers and wanted to deepen their faith. He seeks to unveil the meaning of Christ's death and invites us all to enter with him in his mystery. He is writing to Christians of Jewish origins. So he seeks to demonstrate how God realises in Jesus the promise to His people, how Jesus makes the Scriptures come true. Through their leaders, the Jews refused Jesus. Now the promise passes to a new people, the Church. But the Church, in its turn, needs to be vigilant because she can easily refuse Jesus again. History, where this trial is concerned, can easily repeat itself. And indeed it has been repeating itself unfailingly.

Despite all achievements and accomplishments, humanity is still impoverished in its inability to face evil and suffering with something better than occasional outbursts of fascination. Good Friday lasts until the world ends and its deepest darkness remains to come. Matthew's Passion today invites us to enter into the mystery of evil and suffering as it still makes hope impossible for so many on this planet. On the Cross, God inaugurates the new reality: Behold I make all things new. In this hope we have been saved. In this hope we continue to wait for the dawn.