
Homily from Good Friday. A king without His armor. At the end of our lives, there are no defenses. At the end of Christ's life, He clings to no defenses. He has poured it all out, and all is taken from Him. All that is left is the Man Himself. At the end of our lives, we will only be left with our heart...everything else is taken.
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Welcome to Sunday Homilies with me, Fr. Mike Schmitz. I hope today's homily inspires and motivates you, and I also hope that it leaves you hungry for the One who gave everything to feed you. If you want to get this and other Sunday Mass resources sent straight to your inbox, sign up@ascensionpress.com Sunday or by texting Sunday to 33777. You can also follow or subscribe in your podcast app for weekly notifications. God Bless. So at the beginning of Lent, I had the honor of being invited by a friend of mine to be with her dad as he was dying and to anoint him and pray for him. And that was the beginning of Lent to you with a man named Ray as he was dying. Go back. If we think back to Lent, the first Sunday of Lent, what do we see? The first Sunday of Lent, almost always, I think always is Jesus going into the wilderness and doing battle with the evil one, right? So it's Jesus. He gets anointed. The Father declares over Jesus, this is my beloved son. He's anointed by the power of the Holy Spirit. He's the king, right? What does the king do in the king that first Sunday of Lent? The king, what? He's anointed and he goes to fight for his people. And he shows himself as the king, right? He's the brave king who goes into the wilderness. He is the kind king who heals his people. He is the wise king who teaches. He's the powerful king. This is really who Jesus is, right? Jesus is the king. We even hear that in the gospel today, that Pilate, you are a king. He is a king. And today, what do we see? What does Jesus show us today? What we get to see. We see this thing that no one has ever seen in human history. We get to see a king without his armor on that after all that he's done for us, Jesus is stripped. Last night, last night we talked about how Jesus gave right that last night at the Last Supper, everything is given. And again today, there's this new level that humanity has never seen when it comes to God. Humanity has never, ever seen this when it comes to God. We're not only Jesus at the Last Supper, everything is given. Today, here is Jesus and everything is taken that he holds. Here's Jesus on the cross. He holds onto nothing for himself. He is a king without his armor. And he holds on to nothing for himself. Everything is taken. Everything's taken from him. And that's. And that's. We know this, that's what happens to us. That is where every one of us will be. That's my friend's dad, Ray. Ray, to know him earlier on in his life. Ray is a strong, very strong man. He was charming, super funny, a really handsome man, athletic man. Played tennis well into his later years. And then when he had to trade tennis for pickleball, it was, you know, like, still athletic. Loved. So loved by his family, so loved by people around him. But then what happened to Ray is what happens to all of us. There's the end. And in the end, none of those great gifts, none of those great gifts were there. There's no strength anymore. There's no independence. There's no funny words. In fact, there's no words. There's no charming smile. There's just the man himself. That is every one of us. Look, think of all the incredible gifts you have, all the incredible gifts that you are. And at some point in your life, there is this moment where everything is taken and it's just you, yourself, everything is taken. Then there's no armor, Everything is taken. And again, no matter how strong, independent, charming, smart, powerful, loved a person is even again, even. Here's Ray surrounded by his people who loved him, by his family members. There is that next step. When every one of us knows this, this is the next step of death. That step every one of us has to take alone. Our family, people will love us, they'll gather around us. God willing, they'll gather around us, but they'll only go as far as they can. That next step, the last step, from this life to the next life, every one of us, we have to take it alone. I remember thinking, I don't know if you remember this. You remember getting dropped off at the airport before 2001? Before 2001, I remember I went on to study abroad, and it was a situation where my family. So before 2001, if someone dropped you at the airport, they wouldn't drop you off at the curb. They walk with you all the way to the gate. A lot of times, like, you could go, there's no security, you just go to the gate. And I remember my family, they knew I'd be gone for a while. And so we all parked the car, walked into the airport, walked through the terminal, finally got to the gate. And they were so good because they loved me so much, they went as far as they could. But there was a moment, right, Even though I was surrounded by my family, surrounded by these people who just loved me so much, I knew there was a Moment when I had to walk away from them and I had to go down the Jetway and they couldn't come with me. And I remember, I can even feel it right now, that. That walking on the Jetway and turning around one last time before the corner and like, okay, that's the last glimpse, because they can't go any farther. This is what it is to live, and this is what it is to die, even if you are so loved. That last step, everything is taken. Everything is taken. And we make that last step on our own. And at the same time, we know this. We know this because of Jesus, who is the king without his armor. We know this because of Jesus, who not only everything is given at the Last Supper, everything is taken on Good Friday. We know that we're not without help, but we know this. This is the king, the king who fights in the wilderness. The king who also does amazing things. His brilliant teaching, miraculous healings. Here's Jesus who defeats the power of the evil one. Here's Jesus who comforts the afflicted. Here's Jesus who. Who is loved and is love, and he doesn't leave us alone. But here is the image we have of him right now on the cross on Good Friday. All of those incredible things that Jesus had done and all. All the incredible things that Jesus is, they're gone. Everything is taken. And he's naked. A king without his armor. He's betrayed, he's denied, he's abandoned. He's misunderstood. That's one. He's misunderstood. That one hits me right, because here's Jesus crucified as a criminal. Imagine all these people that he's walking through the streets of Jerusalem. All these people walking by him as he's on his cross. All of them, they think the worst of him, even though he had done nothing wrong. Even his honor, even his dignity, his respect, everything is taken. And there's a king without his armor. I think, again, it's one thing to give. All of Lent is like this practice of giving. It's amazing. It's so good. Last night. Everything is given, but here, everything is taken. And what Jesus does in this moment, what Jesus does on this day, what Jesus does on this cross is he answers the cry of every human heart who's asked or wondered or challenged whether God could possibly understand what they're going through. We realize this God understands more than any of us possibly could imagine. But he also understands in a way that every one of us is called to. God understands in a way that everyone. Because where Jesus has gone Today is a place every one of us has to pass through as well. A place to be able to give everything, but also to be able to allow everything to be taken and to still love. This is the crazy part, to allow for everything to be taken and to still love. Here's Jesus from the cross. Forgive them for they don't know what they're doing. Everything is taken and yet he can still love. And this is your call and my call, that when everything is taken, we still love. That when we find ourselves without our armor, we can still love. There. This is the last thing. Years ago, I came across the story of a young girl from Italy. In 1988, she was 17 years old. She's just like four years older than three years older than me. In 88, she was 17 and she was an athletic girl. Her name was Chiara, Chiara Padano is her name. She danced and she was a swimmer. She played tennis. At one point, she's actually playing tennis, 17 years old, on a court with some friends. And she had this pain in her shoulder. So her family brought her into the hospital and found out that she had osteosarcoma, a really aggressive bone cancer. And as she was being treated pretty quickly, so aggressive, she was unable to leave her hospital bed. So it's really interesting, at one point, imagine being a 17 year old and thinking, okay, God, I'll give up stuff for Lent. And then all of a sudden, no, no, everything is taken. As she realized that though this cancer is going to change my life, this cancer is going to affect my life, this cancer might end up taking my life. One of Chiara's prayers was, if you want this Jesus, then I want it too. If you want everything taken Jesus, then I want it too. There are times where there are stories of Akira, who she was offered morphine to dull the pain. It was incredibly painful. As she was in the process of dying from this abortion, bone cancer, she would often say no to the morphine because she wanted to be present. Imagine this. Imagine being in the hospital, so much pain and sometimes she would say no, just no medication. Why? Because I want to be able to pray and I want to be able to be present to Jesus and I want to be aware, she says, because I want to be present to my pain. I want to be present to the reality that Jesus, if this is what Jesus wants and I want it to, I don't want to dull the reality of this moment. And she also said, I have people coming, people coming to visit me and I don't want to dull the reality of their presence. I want to be there for them. In fact, so many stories of people came to visit Chiara, from her friends in school to her family to. Like the cardinal in her area had come to visit her. They came to cheer her up. And they would say this. They would say, they'd walk into this room expecting to cheer her up. They would leave that room being cheered up by her. Even when she couldn't move, even when she couldn't. She couldn't get out of bed for so long, she couldn't raise her arms, she could smile, and then she couldn't. At one point, when everything had been taken and they asked Kira, why, why keep on going? Why? How do you keep on loving like this? She said this. She said her line was, I have nothing left. Think about this here. I think she was 18 or 19 at this point. She'd been suffering for a couple years. I have nothing left, but I still have my heart. And with that I can always love. That day is coming for every one of us. That day is coming where not only everything is given, let's just. We want to give for the Lord. Everything is taken. And in that moment, like Chiara, like Ray, and most clearly, like Jesus, everything can be taken. And we can still love. Because this is what Jesus does for us. Today, on this Good Friday, Jesus is stripped. Everything has been given, everything has been taken. And we see what's left. What's left is a king without his armor. And what's revealed is a heart that will always love.
Episode: Good Friday: Everything is Taken
Date: April 3, 2026
Host: Fr. Mike Schmitz (Ascension)
On this special Good Friday episode, Fr. Mike Schmitz reflects on the meaning of Jesus's ultimate sacrifice—how, on the cross, Jesus not only gives everything but has everything taken from him. Building on personal stories and poignant analogies, Fr. Mike explores what it means for us when nothing is left but the core of who we are, drawing deep connections between Christ's Passion and the universal human experience of loss, vulnerability, and love.
On loss and identity:
On the Gospel's challenge:
The paradox of the Cross:
Chiara Badano’s legacy:
Fr. Mike concludes by reflecting on the essence exposed when everything else is stripped away: the enduring capacity for love, exemplified most perfectly by Jesus on Good Friday but echoed in the lives of ordinary saints like Ray and Chiara. The invitation to his listeners is both challenging and hopeful: even as everything is taken, we are called—and empowered—to love to the end, just as Christ did.
If you seek encouragement in times of loss or vulnerability, Fr. Mike’s Good Friday homily reminds us that Christ’s emptying is the path through which his unending love is revealed—and the love we’re called to mirror, when everything else fades.