Editor's note: This article is the fifth of 12 in a new series on the Creed by Deacon Matthew Newsome. Explore the series.
In last month’s installment of our ongoing series, we explored Jesus’ passion and death. This month we take a look at the fifth article of the Apostles’ Creed, which states that Jesus “descended into hell” and that “on the third day He rose again.”
I once read an article written by a non-believer who smugly thought she had stumbled upon a hidden fact that the Church would prefer to keep hidden: that Jesus went to hell. The author assumed “hell” to be the place of the damned, which she interpreted to be inconsistent with Christian belief in a sinless Jesus. To her this was a “gotcha” moment. Of course, this is no news to practicing Christians who routinely recite the Apostles’ Creed. But that doesn’t mean many aren’t confused on this point. It does sound odd to say that Jesus, the divine Son of God, descended to hell. What does the Church mean by this?
“Hell” in this instance does not refer to the place of the damned, the principal characteristic of which is eternal separation from God. Such could never be the case with Jesus. But the word “hell” did not always have this narrow meaning. In the case of the Apostles’ Creed it is used as the English equivalent of the Greek “Hades” or Hebrew “Sheol.” These terms referred to the realm of the dead, without any judgment as to their condition.
Prior to Christianity, a common (though not universal) Jewish understanding of the afterlife was that the souls of all the departed went to a realm they called “Sheol.” The righteous would have a good experience there, while the unrighteous would suffer; thus justice would be rendered. We see this illustrated in Christ’s parable of Lazarus and the rich man, where the rich man suffers torment for his lack of charity while poor Lazarus is comforted in the bosom of Abraham (see Lk 16:19-31).
By saying that Christ descended into hell, we affirm the truth that Christ in fact died. Since He possesses a full human nature, Jesus has both a human body and a human soul. When the body is so damaged by injury, age or disease that it can no longer give expression to the soul, the soul and body separate. This is the theological understanding of death, and this is what happened to Jesus on the cross. Jesus did not swoon or fall into a coma only to be later revived. The fact of Christ’s death is an essential prerequisite to belief in the resurrection. This is why St. Paul insisted on preaching “Jesus Christ and Him crucified” to the Corinthians (1 Cor 2:2). For, as he explained, if Christ did not truly die, then He was not truly raised; and if Christ was not raised from the dead, then our faith is in vain (1 Cor 15:14).
The underscoring of the reality of Christ’s death is also at least part of the significance of the three days Christ spent in the tomb. First, a clarification is warranted about the nature of the phrase, “three days.” Jesus was not dead for 72 hours, which is how most modern English-speakers would naturally understand the phrase. He was buried in the afternoon of Good Friday and rose from the dead sometime before dawn on Easter Sunday. At most this may add up to a day-and-a-half. Why, then, do we say that Jesus was buried for three days?
According to the common first-century Jewish reckoning of time, if something occurred during even a part of the day, it was attributed to “the day.” Thus Jesus died on Good Friday (day one), was dead all of Holy Saturday (day two), and remained dead for the early hours of Easter Sunday before He rose (day three).
On one level, the three days Jesus spent in the tomb are a fulfillment of scriptural prophecy. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus refers to “the sign of Jonah,” saying, “Just as Jonah was in the belly of the whale three days and three nights, so will the Son of Man be in the heart of the earth three days and three nights” (Mt 12:39-40). But the three days also had a more immediate significance that would have been understood by all who witnessed the resurrection.
Given how difficult it can be to determine if a person is truly dead, especially without use of modern medical technology, a folk belief arose among the Jews that a person was only known to be truly dead when three days had passed. This helps us to understand why Jesus delayed until the fourth day to travel to Bethany to raise Lazarus (Jn 11:1-44). To demonstrate His authority over death, Jesus wanted it to be clear that the one being raised was fully dead and not only “mostly dead” (to borrow a phrase from “The Princess Bride”).
Likewise, Jesus’ resurrection on the third day manifested His complete authority over death. Death could not hold the Author of Life. By freely laying down His life (Jn 10:18), Christ did not succumb to death, but forced death to succumb to Him.
As “the resurrection and the life” (Jn 11:25), Christ rose victorious over death, but He did not win the victory for Himself only. Just as the gates of hell (“Hades” or “Sheol”) cannot stand against Jesus, they will not stand against those who are members of His Body, the Church. Because death no longer has power over Christ (Rom 6:9), those who die with Him can be confident of also rising with Him (Rom 6:9, 2 Tim 2:11). Jesus is the first fruits of the resurrection (1 Cor 15:20), not the last, and the scriptures attest that He will be the first of many brethren (Rom 8:29). To be among those who share in His resurrection is the hope of every Christian and the joy behind every “Alleluia” we sing.
Deacon Matthew Newsome is the Catholic campus minister at Western Carolina University. He is the author of “The Devout Life: A Modern Guide to Practical Holiness with St. Francis de Sales,” available from Sophia Institute Press.
Editor's note: This article is the fourth of 12 in a new series on the Creed by Deacon Matthew Newsome. Explore the series.
Having explored the incarnation in last month’s column on the Word made flesh, we now turn our attention to the other end of Christ’s earthly life, the crucifixion. The fourth article of the Apostles’ Creed states that “Jesus Christ suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.”
Before we look at the crucifixion itself, we should first say a word about Pontius Pilate. Other than the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ, his is the only proper name mentioned in the Creed.
Why should such an honor be paid to a pagan Roman governor who famously washed his hands of anything to do with Christ (Mt 27:24)? Pilate’s name gives important historic context to the crucifixion of Christ. It places it at a fixed point in history. The Romans were excellent record keepers, and so we know that Pontius Pilate was the fifth Roman governor of Judea who served in that position from 26 to 36 AD, plus or minus a year.
The inclusion of Pilate’s name in the Creed is an important reminder to us that our faith is not in a cleverly devised myth or legend, but in a real, historical person who was born, lived, died – and, as the gospels record, rose from the dead. As St. Paul attested, if Christ is not truly raised from the dead, then empty is our preaching and empty is our faith (1 Cor 15:14). But to be raised from the dead, one first has to die.
In the fourth century, a great doctor of the Church, St. Athanasius, wrote “On the Incarnation.” In this work, he argues that the death of Jesus was the very reason for the incarnation. The one thing Jesus did not possess as God, the source of all being and the source of all life, was the ability to die. And the one thing we need from God is eternal life. We could never, on our own, acquire God’s immortality, but as our Creator, God can take to Himself our mortality.
The incarnation was thus a divine exchange, allowing Jesus, by His death, to gain for us everlasting life.
But why this kind of death? Roman crucifixion was the most excruciating form of execution ever conceived by the heart of sinful man. Indeed, it is the source of the word “excruciating,” from the Latin crux, or “cross.”
Some have objected to the divinity of Christ for this very reason – if Jesus is truly God, it would seem terribly unfitting that He would die in such a public and shameful way as a condemned criminal. This is why St. Paul calls the crucifixion “a stumbling block for Jews and foolishness for the Gentiles” (1 Cor 1:23). St. Athanasius addresses these objections.
First, if Jesus had to die to save us, why not die in a more dignified manner? Why not live a long, fruitful life and die peacefully in His bed of old age?
St. Athanasius says no. Were our Savior to die a death like that, it would appear that He died from His own weakness, because His body wore out over time. But Jesus is strong, not weak. It would be unfitting for the great Healer to Himself succumb to age or disease. Instead, death came to Jesus from others.
But why did it have to be so public? Would a private death not have been less shameful?
If His death had not been witnessed by the crowds, His resurrection would not have been believable. People would have assumed He was faking, reappearing after hiding for three days, only claiming to have died. No, there had to be witnesses, many witnesses. Christ’s death had to be a public spectacle for the resurrection to be believed.
But why so painful a death? Even given that God chose to die as man for our sins, surely He had it within His power to choose a less painful means for His sacrifice.
I love St. Athanasius’ rebuttal to this objection. He notes that a strong, confident wrestler doesn’t selectively choose His own opponents but rather takes on all comers. If Jesus had chosen His own form of death, one less painful or less shameful, or easier to endure, it would have suggested that His power over death was limited. Instead, at the crucifixion, our Lord stands on the hill of Calvary staring Death in the face saying, “Give me your worst.”
By permitting His enemies – chief among them Satan – to choose the manner and means of His death, St. Athanasius writes, “A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat.” More than 2,000 years later, we continue to honor that monument to death’s defeat, that instrument of torture which has become the means of our salvation and the gateway to eternal life, the Holy Cross on which hung the Savior of the world.
Upon the wood of the cross, Jesus hangs with arms outstretched, one to the Jews, the other to the Gentiles, embracing all peoples and races, nations and tongues, just as He prophesied: “And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself” (Jn 12:32).
Deacon Matthew Newsome is the Catholic campus minister at Western Carolina University. He is the author of “The Devout Life: A Modern Guide to Practical Holiness with St. Francis de Sales,” available from Sophia Institute Press.