Not too many
years ago a bishop told the story of taking a break in the middle of the day to
go to a department store to buy his wife a Christmas present. A nicely dressed young woman waited on him at
the perfume counter. Because he was
working, the bishop was wearing his purple shirt with collar and a blue
blazer. Around his neck was a chain from
which hung a large, gold pectoral cross.
The young woman commented on how pretty it looked. She then asked him if it had any special
meaning.
Lest we be too judgmental
of the sales clerk, we might want to remind ourselves that there are people
from different eras who would frown upon the cavalier way we use the cross
today. For us, it functions
theologically as a symbol of redemption.
It functions devotionally as a sign of God’s great love for us. It functions spiritually to remind us to pick
up our cross daily and follow Jesus. But
for the Jewish people of Jesus’ time, it functioned one and only one way. It was a political symbol of Roman power and
domination. It was an instrument Rome
used to intimidate and humiliate any person or group or movement that
threatened the ‘peace’ they brought to the regions they occupied. This horrific method of execution made a
very, very public statement to occupied people, “You really don’t want to
ruffle our feathers.”
Thousands upon
thousands of people were crucified by Rome every year. Typically it would take several agonizing
days for a person to die. It was not
unusual for corpses to remain on a cross for days and weeks. For occupied people living under Roman rule, the
way we wear and display crosses today would be for them the equivalent in our
day of wearing a symbol of an electric chair.
It was as repulsive to them as Jihadist videos of beheadings are to us.
That the Cross
has been transformed in our eyes is a testimony to God’s ability to redeem the
absolute worst in life. We risk losing an
appreciation for the magnitude of this great act if we lose sight of how
terribly awful the cross really was.
John’s account of
the trial and crucifixion leaves no doubt that Jesus is put to death for
claiming to be the King of Jews. More
than in the other gospels, in John’s telling it is Jewish leaders who force the
issue with Rome’s authority. Pilate, for
his part, is portrayed as a reluctant participant who eventually hands over Jesus
to an ugly and murderous mob. While other
gospels place more weight and responsibility on Pilate, all four agree that
Jesus is crucified for claiming to be a king.
There is a second
thing to which all four gospels testify.
The kingship of Jesus begins as he reigns on the cross.
His kingdom
begins with an exchange. On the cross
God says to humankind, “I take upon myself all the hurt and all the pain and
all the brokenness and all the evil and all the sin of the world. I forsake none of it. I turn my back on no one for any reason. I take it all into myself as the ultimate
demonstration of my deep desire to be in a covenant relationship with all that
I have created.” And then God says, “I
take into myself all that is bad so that I can pour into you all that is
good. I fill you with my love so that
you may love as I love you. I extend to
you forgiveness and grace so that you may offer forgiveness and grace to one
another. I give of myself to you so that
you may give of yourselves to one another.”
Years ago I knew
a brilliant neurosurgeon who was an incredibly down to earth person. He talked with me about my work and my
interests and the conversation always flowed so naturally. One day he had to take a phone call from a
colleague and immediately launched into conversation of medical terminology
that might as well have been a foreign language. The issues they discussed were completely
beyond my comprehension. It was then
that I realized how much my friend took upon himself to be in relationship with
me. I could never ever have picked up on
all his medical training so that I could relate to him.
Good Friday
proclaims that God does what is necessary to be in relationship with us, what
we ourselves can never do. God in the
person of Christ bears all that is broken so that we might live into all that
is blessed. This is the kingdom of God.
There has been a
good deal of conversation this week about Indiana’s religious freedom law. I can’t speak to other religions, but I believe
we followers of Christ are never called to discriminate against a person or
group based on our religious belief. We
believe that on the Cross God takes into God’s self all of the evil and the sin
in the world and pours into us all that is good. Our call is not to judge, not to accuse, not
exclude, but to welcome, to affirm, and to embrace.
Look at Jesus’
life. Look at those with whom he associates.
They are tax-collectors and prostitutes
and lepers and people possession by demons and Roman military officials. He sits at table with these folks and invites
them to be his disciples. He extends God’s
love in his day to the very people who would have been the targets of a ‘religious
freedom’ bill had there been one.
We are about to
engage the Solemn Collects, which are my favorite part of the Good Friday
liturgy. They remind us that as Jesus’
work in this world comes to a close, our work in Jesus’ Name begins. Like
the Cross, the Collects remind us that Christ bears all that is broken so that
we might live into all that is blessed.
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