You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Oh friends, if we wanted to hide from the pain of the world in the embrace of our religious texts, we would be sorely disappointed, especially this week. For we find ourselves smack dab in the middle of a political fight with religious undercurrents – sound familiar? Within a day of the interview at the center of this Sunday’s gospel story, a man revered by thousands will be dead, brutally killed at the hands of the secular ruler, under urging from the man’s own religious leaders. His followers will have scattered, hiding in terror of being arrested themselves.
We can’t get away from blood, power and violence in our Christian story. That intersection is exactly where God’s incarnate Son landed as his mission in this world culminated in his humiliation and execution. But the governor who ordered his death did not want to see him die. He questioned his prisoner closely, hoping to find a loophole that would allow him to save Jesus. Jesus did not make it easy: Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.”
This week we wrap up our liturgical year before resetting the clock on the first Sunday of Advent. On this final Sunday in “ordinary time,” we celebrate Christ as King. But the only images the Gospels give us of Christ as king show him as a helpless child, honored by magi; humbled, riding on a donkey; powerless, under arrest and trial; or nailed to a cross. Vulnerable, humble and powerless – is that what kingship looks like for Christ-followers?
As many Christians of my leanings lament the outcome of our American election and the consequences we fear for democracy, human rights and the fate of the earth, we need to remember that risk and sacrifice are part of the package if we desire to follow the One who went to the Cross for us. Vulnerability and humility and service can look an awful lot like powerlessness.
The Way of Jesus was to prevail through humility and powerlessness in the temporal realm. The power he exerted was spiritual – a force so strong it could raise the dead, but not discernible to those who refused to see it.
Can we be bold enough to wield that power, given to us through his Holy Spirit? Can we dare to stand against hatred with love, against violence with generosity? That’s what Jesus did – he stood calm in the face of the man who had the power to end his life, and spoke nothing but truth. He walked into death itself and rendered it impotent. That’s how you respond to evil.
God, give us the grace to comfort, to seek justice, to forgive – and to wield love in the power of Christ.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label crucifixion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crucifixion. Show all posts
3-12-24 - Now Is the Hour
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
You’d think it would have pleased Jesus to hear that Greeks were asking to meet him. It meant his message of freedom and transformation in God’s love was spreading beyond his own community. I would have said, “Yay! Growth! Expansion! My efforts are paying off!”
But Jesus' mission went deeper than the healing and conversion of individuals. His mission was to bring freedom and transformation to the entire cosmos. Hearing that these Greeks wanted to meet him seems to have signaled to him that the final part of his mission was about to begin.
Philip had gone to Andrew with the message from those visitors, and together they’d come to tell Jesus. “Jesus answered them, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” He talks about dying and bearing fruit, losing your life and servanthood. And then he gives voice to his anxiety and sorrow. “‘Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—“Father, save me from this hour”? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.’”
Matthew, Mark and Luke show Jesus wrestling with his mission in the Garden of Gethsemane, just before his betrayal by Judas and his arrest by the temple guard. But as John tells the story, it is here, some time before his passion fully begins, that Jesus starts to feel the dread and turmoil, the desire for some other plan to be revealed. It’s a poignant reminder of how much he suffered as a full human person, with all that emotional load to carry. He had to anticipate the betrayal, the abandonment by his closest friends, the injustice, the physical pain. He had to carry that load long before they beat him and made him carry his cross to Calvary. It begins now, here. The hour has come.
“The hour has come.” So much human experience can be contained in those words. The hour to give birth or to leave this world. The hour of an examination, an interview or being fired. The hour of diagnosis, being sentenced, hitting bottom, admitting a deep truth about ourselves.
Does it help us to know that Jesus experienced anxiety and dread, irritation and anger, that his soul could be troubled? I hope so – it reminds us that there is really nothing we can suffer that Jesus did not, including rejection and loneliness, misunderstanding and exhaustion. It gives us another way to connect with him in our spirits, when we feel such emotions, when we face challenges.
What comes up for you when you hear those words, “The hour has come?” Are you overtaken by dread of what lies ahead or regret for what cannot be recovered? Either is ground for prayer, to ask for the grace to receive the gifts and the challenges of this day, and remain centered in God’s presence here and now.
In his earthly life and ministry, Jesus was bound by time as we are, time moving inexorably toward an event, a conclusion, a beginning. He inhabited that hour and every hour afterward until he hung for those six hours on the cross. And then he was released into the eternal Now, where he exists forever, outside of time, from which he inspires and empowers us to participate in his mission of reclaiming, restoring and renewing all of creation to wholeness.
When we are made anxious by the “hours” that are momentous for us, we have a remedy. We can meet Jesus, in prayer, in that land where it is always Now.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
You’d think it would have pleased Jesus to hear that Greeks were asking to meet him. It meant his message of freedom and transformation in God’s love was spreading beyond his own community. I would have said, “Yay! Growth! Expansion! My efforts are paying off!”
But Jesus' mission went deeper than the healing and conversion of individuals. His mission was to bring freedom and transformation to the entire cosmos. Hearing that these Greeks wanted to meet him seems to have signaled to him that the final part of his mission was about to begin.
Philip had gone to Andrew with the message from those visitors, and together they’d come to tell Jesus. “Jesus answered them, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” He talks about dying and bearing fruit, losing your life and servanthood. And then he gives voice to his anxiety and sorrow. “‘Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—“Father, save me from this hour”? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.’”
Matthew, Mark and Luke show Jesus wrestling with his mission in the Garden of Gethsemane, just before his betrayal by Judas and his arrest by the temple guard. But as John tells the story, it is here, some time before his passion fully begins, that Jesus starts to feel the dread and turmoil, the desire for some other plan to be revealed. It’s a poignant reminder of how much he suffered as a full human person, with all that emotional load to carry. He had to anticipate the betrayal, the abandonment by his closest friends, the injustice, the physical pain. He had to carry that load long before they beat him and made him carry his cross to Calvary. It begins now, here. The hour has come.
“The hour has come.” So much human experience can be contained in those words. The hour to give birth or to leave this world. The hour of an examination, an interview or being fired. The hour of diagnosis, being sentenced, hitting bottom, admitting a deep truth about ourselves.
Does it help us to know that Jesus experienced anxiety and dread, irritation and anger, that his soul could be troubled? I hope so – it reminds us that there is really nothing we can suffer that Jesus did not, including rejection and loneliness, misunderstanding and exhaustion. It gives us another way to connect with him in our spirits, when we feel such emotions, when we face challenges.
What comes up for you when you hear those words, “The hour has come?” Are you overtaken by dread of what lies ahead or regret for what cannot be recovered? Either is ground for prayer, to ask for the grace to receive the gifts and the challenges of this day, and remain centered in God’s presence here and now.
In his earthly life and ministry, Jesus was bound by time as we are, time moving inexorably toward an event, a conclusion, a beginning. He inhabited that hour and every hour afterward until he hung for those six hours on the cross. And then he was released into the eternal Now, where he exists forever, outside of time, from which he inspires and empowers us to participate in his mission of reclaiming, restoring and renewing all of creation to wholeness.
When we are made anxious by the “hours” that are momentous for us, we have a remedy. We can meet Jesus, in prayer, in that land where it is always Now.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
4-7-23 - Mary of Magdala
This week we will look at the gospel reading appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer. Today's gospel passage is John 19:16-30
You can listen to this reflection here.
Mary of Magdala: My name is Mary. I come from Magdala. I’m one of those women, one of those who followed Jesus from Galilee and helped take care of him and the disciples.
This man, this man they killed today? This man healed me. He set me free from the worst kind of bondage you can imagine. He cast out seven demons from me, who tortured me constantly. I didn’t think I’d ever get free of those voices, the incessant chatter inside, telling me to hurt myself, telling me how worthless I was, how I’d be better off dead. He gave me back my life.
After that he was my life. I would have followed him anywhere. He was my Lord. Following him and tending to his needs and those of his disciples – what else could I do? He set me free, and all I wanted to use my freedom for was to serve him.
That’s how it was for all of us – this motley collection of people who had been set free – from demons, from sin and degradation, some from blindness, crippling diseases; some from despair and loneliness and meaningless lives; some from greed and lust. Just a bunch of people who love him because of what he did for us. Selfish kind of love, when you think about it. But it was real, it was real when you were with him. He made it real. He made us all able to love in a way we didn’t naturally know.
And now he's gone. How can that be?
So... now we have to bury him. I hear some guy from the Sanhedrin has given us a tomb to use until we can bury him properly. It’s too late now to anoint him before the Sabbath begins. We’ll have to do it first thing Sunday morning…
I’d better find the others and find out where they’re taking him. Oh, my sweet Lord. My sweetest friend. What have they done to you? What have we done to you?
As you move through this Good Friday, whenever or wherever you will worship, take some time to ponder what Jesus has done for you - what you feel personally he has given you. Reflect on that. Reflect on how worthy you are to receive his gift, not because of anything you've done or will do, but simply because God says so. And then pass it on.
If you would like to join me for the Liturgy for Good Friday online tonight, join here on Zoom at 7 pm, or live on Facebook, here. If you would like to move through an interactive Stations of the Cross, you can find that here.
You can listen to this reflection here.
Mary of Magdala: My name is Mary. I come from Magdala. I’m one of those women, one of those who followed Jesus from Galilee and helped take care of him and the disciples.
This man, this man they killed today? This man healed me. He set me free from the worst kind of bondage you can imagine. He cast out seven demons from me, who tortured me constantly. I didn’t think I’d ever get free of those voices, the incessant chatter inside, telling me to hurt myself, telling me how worthless I was, how I’d be better off dead. He gave me back my life.
After that he was my life. I would have followed him anywhere. He was my Lord. Following him and tending to his needs and those of his disciples – what else could I do? He set me free, and all I wanted to use my freedom for was to serve him.
That’s how it was for all of us – this motley collection of people who had been set free – from demons, from sin and degradation, some from blindness, crippling diseases; some from despair and loneliness and meaningless lives; some from greed and lust. Just a bunch of people who love him because of what he did for us. Selfish kind of love, when you think about it. But it was real, it was real when you were with him. He made it real. He made us all able to love in a way we didn’t naturally know.
And now he's gone. How can that be?
So... now we have to bury him. I hear some guy from the Sanhedrin has given us a tomb to use until we can bury him properly. It’s too late now to anoint him before the Sabbath begins. We’ll have to do it first thing Sunday morning…
I’d better find the others and find out where they’re taking him. Oh, my sweet Lord. My sweetest friend. What have they done to you? What have we done to you?
As you move through this Good Friday, whenever or wherever you will worship, take some time to ponder what Jesus has done for you - what you feel personally he has given you. Reflect on that. Reflect on how worthy you are to receive his gift, not because of anything you've done or will do, but simply because God says so. And then pass it on.
If you would like to join me for the Liturgy for Good Friday online tonight, join here on Zoom at 7 pm, or live on Facebook, here. If you would like to move through an interactive Stations of the Cross, you can find that here.
3-2-23 - Up-Lifted
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As Jesus talks with Nicodemus, he stresses the importance of the spiritual view. Then, almost as an aside, he says something else puzzling: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
Jesus is alluding to a story recorded in Numbers 21:4-9, about a time when God sent a plague of serpents to punish the Israelites for bellyaching on their journey to freedom:
They traveled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!” Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.
Putting aside our alarm at the idea of God having a murderous hissy fit in response to incessant whining, let’s focus on the remedy God proposes: To bring about healing by inviting the afflicted to contemplate a symbol of their disease. This story is one source of the universal symbol of medicine, serpents entwined on a staff. And we see here a principle often found in medicine – that healing can come from the very source of disease, as with vaccines and homeopathic remedies.
By linking this image to his own impending suffering on the cross, Jesus (or John?) suggests that the remedy for sin can be attained by reflecting upon the very image of sin, a punished, crucified man. As Paul wrote, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:21)
A central theme of John’s Gospel is that Jesus’ glory was supremely revealed on the Cross – there was the Sign of Signs that God was doing a new thing. The Cross is central to all four Gospels, but only John sees it as a place of glorification. So let’s go with him for today. Our sacred story tells us that Jesus took upon himself the sin of the whole world as he died, crucified and forsaken. Can we see in that scene of torture any redemption and release for ourselves? Healing from the sin-sickness that can pervade our souls?
Is there an area of sin in your life you would like to see die with Jesus on the cross? As you pray today, can you imagine that aspect of your life, whether an event or a proclivity, actually being eliminated, so you can be free of it? Our promise is that God has already forgiven us – the Cross covered the future as well as the past.
In John 12:32 Jesus is quoted, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” We don’t have to contemplate a bruised and bloodied Jesus in order to be forgiven. We can draw near to the throne of grace because of what Jesus took on for us – and because now that cross is empty. We can honor him best by accepting his gift and walking in the forgiveness and wholeness he won for us.
As Jesus talks with Nicodemus, he stresses the importance of the spiritual view. Then, almost as an aside, he says something else puzzling: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
Jesus is alluding to a story recorded in Numbers 21:4-9, about a time when God sent a plague of serpents to punish the Israelites for bellyaching on their journey to freedom:
They traveled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!” Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.
Putting aside our alarm at the idea of God having a murderous hissy fit in response to incessant whining, let’s focus on the remedy God proposes: To bring about healing by inviting the afflicted to contemplate a symbol of their disease. This story is one source of the universal symbol of medicine, serpents entwined on a staff. And we see here a principle often found in medicine – that healing can come from the very source of disease, as with vaccines and homeopathic remedies.
By linking this image to his own impending suffering on the cross, Jesus (or John?) suggests that the remedy for sin can be attained by reflecting upon the very image of sin, a punished, crucified man. As Paul wrote, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:21)
A central theme of John’s Gospel is that Jesus’ glory was supremely revealed on the Cross – there was the Sign of Signs that God was doing a new thing. The Cross is central to all four Gospels, but only John sees it as a place of glorification. So let’s go with him for today. Our sacred story tells us that Jesus took upon himself the sin of the whole world as he died, crucified and forsaken. Can we see in that scene of torture any redemption and release for ourselves? Healing from the sin-sickness that can pervade our souls?
Is there an area of sin in your life you would like to see die with Jesus on the cross? As you pray today, can you imagine that aspect of your life, whether an event or a proclivity, actually being eliminated, so you can be free of it? Our promise is that God has already forgiven us – the Cross covered the future as well as the past.
In John 12:32 Jesus is quoted, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” We don’t have to contemplate a bruised and bloodied Jesus in order to be forgiven. We can draw near to the throne of grace because of what Jesus took on for us – and because now that cross is empty. We can honor him best by accepting his gift and walking in the forgiveness and wholeness he won for us.
11-21-13 - Paradise When?
Popular culture tells us that, at the moment of our death, we will “cross over” to our eternal dwelling, where we are welcomed by those we have loved in this world. This notion has been greatly aided by popular songs, like Far Side Banks of Jordan. (Here, with June and Johnny…)
Biblical scholars suggest a more sober view, in line with many prophetic texts about the “Day of the Lord,” Jesus’ own references to the great sorting at the final judgment, and Paul’s eloquent depiction of the sleeping dead rising “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” (I Cor. 15:52; No, it’s not the zombi-pocalypse... it's resurrection.) That interpretation suggests that at death we go into rest like the “sleep” mode on our computers, to be reactivated when the “trumpet shall sound.”
And here is Jesus, confusing us all with this promise to the repentant thief dying next to him on the cross: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” It is a bit surreal, this recorded conversation among three men dying a ghastly, torturous death: One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
This week, I heard Charlie Grady, who runs an anti-violence initiative in Bridgeport, speak. He spent 27 years in law enforcement, during which he arrested some pretty dangerous criminals. He was in a restaurant recently,and saw two men he’d sent to jail come in. Soon enough they spotted him and clearly recognized him. He began to sweat. Then the waiter approached and said, “Those guys would like to buy your table a round of drinks.” He accepted, and then raised his glass to them. At that point they came over and said, “We know how you were just doing your job. We were the ones doing wrong – it was your job to catch us and put us away. We know that now; we’re not the same people.”
That’s quite a story! That’s pretty much where this thief is. Hanging there next to a man he knows to be good and holy gives him a true perspective on himself. And when we see ourselves clearly, we start to see a lot of things more clearly. That is the beginning of repentance – clear vision. It’s not everyone else’s fault, even if some have contributed. It’s us.
And when we speak from that truth, we create space for grace to come back to us. Even on the cross, Jesus is able to extend that grace to a fellow-sufferer. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” At the end of this day, all three of them will be dead. They will no longer dwell in this world. In the face of that, in brutal pain, Jesus promises not only paradise, but his own presence. What a promise.
Do you have a confession to make, or one to hear? Has anyone been trying to get your attention to let you know they have had a change of heart, they truly are sorry – and maybe you haven’t been able to give them the chance to show it? A risk, yes, but your forgiveness is a big gift to grant or withhold. As recipients of grace, can we extend it?
One day we will be with Jesus in whatever realm it is that we call Paradise, eternal life. Whether that is at the moment of death, or at some other time in a realm that is timeless, we will know that we are with him. As Gillian Welch sings, in terms less sentimental than June and Johnny, “I will know my savior when I come to him by the mark where the nails have been.”
Biblical scholars suggest a more sober view, in line with many prophetic texts about the “Day of the Lord,” Jesus’ own references to the great sorting at the final judgment, and Paul’s eloquent depiction of the sleeping dead rising “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” (I Cor. 15:52; No, it’s not the zombi-pocalypse... it's resurrection.) That interpretation suggests that at death we go into rest like the “sleep” mode on our computers, to be reactivated when the “trumpet shall sound.”
And here is Jesus, confusing us all with this promise to the repentant thief dying next to him on the cross: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” It is a bit surreal, this recorded conversation among three men dying a ghastly, torturous death: One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
This week, I heard Charlie Grady, who runs an anti-violence initiative in Bridgeport, speak. He spent 27 years in law enforcement, during which he arrested some pretty dangerous criminals. He was in a restaurant recently,and saw two men he’d sent to jail come in. Soon enough they spotted him and clearly recognized him. He began to sweat. Then the waiter approached and said, “Those guys would like to buy your table a round of drinks.” He accepted, and then raised his glass to them. At that point they came over and said, “We know how you were just doing your job. We were the ones doing wrong – it was your job to catch us and put us away. We know that now; we’re not the same people.”
That’s quite a story! That’s pretty much where this thief is. Hanging there next to a man he knows to be good and holy gives him a true perspective on himself. And when we see ourselves clearly, we start to see a lot of things more clearly. That is the beginning of repentance – clear vision. It’s not everyone else’s fault, even if some have contributed. It’s us.
And when we speak from that truth, we create space for grace to come back to us. Even on the cross, Jesus is able to extend that grace to a fellow-sufferer. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” At the end of this day, all three of them will be dead. They will no longer dwell in this world. In the face of that, in brutal pain, Jesus promises not only paradise, but his own presence. What a promise.
Do you have a confession to make, or one to hear? Has anyone been trying to get your attention to let you know they have had a change of heart, they truly are sorry – and maybe you haven’t been able to give them the chance to show it? A risk, yes, but your forgiveness is a big gift to grant or withhold. As recipients of grace, can we extend it?
One day we will be with Jesus in whatever realm it is that we call Paradise, eternal life. Whether that is at the moment of death, or at some other time in a realm that is timeless, we will know that we are with him. As Gillian Welch sings, in terms less sentimental than June and Johnny, “I will know my savior when I come to him by the mark where the nails have been.”
11-19-13 - Forgive Them
When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing."
One of the greatest obstacles the early followers of Jesus had in presenting the Good News was what Paul refers to as “the scandal of the cross.” It’s hard enough to support the claim that your spiritual leader is a human being who is also the divine son of God, and that this human/divine person was killed and buried and yet managed to rise from the dead. But the notion of a holy man crucified? Crucifixion was one of Rome’s worst forms of execution, reserved for the lowest criminals and revolutionaries. This was crazy.
“But we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles,” Paul insisted after noting that “Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom.” He continues: “But to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (I Cor.1:22-24)
It is hard to associate power and wisdom with the image of a naked, beaten, helpless man nailed to a cross. Yet that is exactly what Christian belief invites us to do, to see beneath the outward image to the spiritual reality. And that reality Jesus demonstrated in a gesture of incomprehensible generosity: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." He recognizes that the Jewish leaders seeking his death and the Roman leaders carrying out the unjust sentence are so caught up in systems of human control, they can’t see the larger picture or their own complicity.
Each gospel writer stresses in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion those elements he thinks matter most. Luke, champion of the poor and outcast, who so often highlights Jesus’ compassion, puts this act of forgiveness on the cross front and center. This is the kind of kingship we are to follow – forgiveness for the unforgivable, even at the point of death.
So – how are you with forgiveness today? Is anyone harming or holding you back, to whom you might extend this kind of grace? For me, many of our elected leaders come to mind, caught up as they are in power games and shifting allegiances, perhaps too much so to remember why they wanted to serve. “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing…”
Bring to mind someone you feel you need to forgive today. Hold her in your mind’s eye; let the light of Christ surround him. Put yourself into that circle of light with that person – even if you don’t like the company. This is prayer. And what we see in prayer we invite to be made real in our lives.
We do not live in a culture which prizes or admires forgiveness; many associate it with weakness. Christ demonstrated the greatest power and wisdom in extending unmerited grace to his executioners. Christ has extended such grace even to you, even to me.
One of the greatest obstacles the early followers of Jesus had in presenting the Good News was what Paul refers to as “the scandal of the cross.” It’s hard enough to support the claim that your spiritual leader is a human being who is also the divine son of God, and that this human/divine person was killed and buried and yet managed to rise from the dead. But the notion of a holy man crucified? Crucifixion was one of Rome’s worst forms of execution, reserved for the lowest criminals and revolutionaries. This was crazy.
“But we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles,” Paul insisted after noting that “Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom.” He continues: “But to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (I Cor.1:22-24)
It is hard to associate power and wisdom with the image of a naked, beaten, helpless man nailed to a cross. Yet that is exactly what Christian belief invites us to do, to see beneath the outward image to the spiritual reality. And that reality Jesus demonstrated in a gesture of incomprehensible generosity: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." He recognizes that the Jewish leaders seeking his death and the Roman leaders carrying out the unjust sentence are so caught up in systems of human control, they can’t see the larger picture or their own complicity.
Each gospel writer stresses in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion those elements he thinks matter most. Luke, champion of the poor and outcast, who so often highlights Jesus’ compassion, puts this act of forgiveness on the cross front and center. This is the kind of kingship we are to follow – forgiveness for the unforgivable, even at the point of death.
So – how are you with forgiveness today? Is anyone harming or holding you back, to whom you might extend this kind of grace? For me, many of our elected leaders come to mind, caught up as they are in power games and shifting allegiances, perhaps too much so to remember why they wanted to serve. “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing…”
Bring to mind someone you feel you need to forgive today. Hold her in your mind’s eye; let the light of Christ surround him. Put yourself into that circle of light with that person – even if you don’t like the company. This is prayer. And what we see in prayer we invite to be made real in our lives.
We do not live in a culture which prizes or admires forgiveness; many associate it with weakness. Christ demonstrated the greatest power and wisdom in extending unmerited grace to his executioners. Christ has extended such grace even to you, even to me.
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