Death to Life; Live Beloved

Good Friday

In order to be a people of the Resurrection, we must first be a people of the crucifixion.  Stinks, doesn’t it?  Certainly, not how we would have planned it.  But it is our reality.  The reality that life comes with grief and struggle, woundedness and betrayal, blood, sweat, tears, and death.

Because all this nastiness is a part of our lives, and there seems to be no human way to avoid it, Jesus entered our humanity and shared it.  In order to show us that there may be a different way to survive it.

Jesus shares in our grief: Eloi, eloi, lema sebachthani (My  God, My god, why have you forsaken me?)

Jesus shares in our struggle: carrying the cross after being beaten and whipped, dropping it  along the way.

Jesus shares in our woundedness: his pierced side flowing with blood and water.

Jesus knows what it means to be betrayed as his beloved Peter denies knowing him at all.

Jesus’ blood, sweat, and tears fall in droplets to the dusty ground below the cross.

Jesus shares in our death---even his divinity does not save him from it.  Because we die, so does he.

Why?  Why such passion? Why such drama?  Why didn’t God simply put a stop to it and shout from the heavens: Hey, y’all: I love you.  Don’t worry.  I got your back.

I do not know.  Mystery. I only know that before the Resurrection comes the cross.

Perhaps God knew that we would have to be shown in order to trust.  That in order for us to believe there is a different way to live, in order for us to wrap our heads around such grace, we require to have it lived out before us.  Possibly, we need to witness mercy so as to understand our pain doesn’t have to lead to striking out at our fellow humans.  That our betrayal and being denied justice doesn’t have to lead to retaliation.  That there is more to us than the sum total of our wounds, our bruises, our leaking, open sores.  There is more to us than our jeering, our mocking and name-calling, our throwing of stones. We need not follow the voices that tell us we must isolate ourselves from our enemies, bomb them, kill them, demonize them.  In fact, the cross calls us to forgive them.  To show mercy, not retaliation.

Perhaps God is hoping that this act of Jesus, this loving sacrifice and forgiveness, will open our eyes to whom we are created to be, to how we are designed to live.  Maybe Jesus’ walk to Jerusalem will free us to understand we do not have to move from fear, that there is another way to journey:

Instead of vengeance----mercy.

Instead of terror----compassion.

Instead of violence---grace.

Instead of division----connection.

Instead of walls----bridges.

Instead of  betrayal----shelter.

Instead of blindness---seeing.

Instead of condemnation-----healing.

Instead of shame-----hospitality.

Instead of hatred-----love.

Today we are called to take up our own weapons of destruction—as individuals, as communities, as families, and as nations. We are to acknowledge the crosses upon which we nail the Body of Christ each and every day: the nails that are our words, our apathy, our self-righteousness, and our certainty. 

The new life we seek, the resurrection for which we long, can not be entered, cannot be lived, until we sacrifice these very parts of ourselves that deny who we are and whose we are---the beloved people of God.

Let the stone in your hand symbolize one thing, just one thing---one thing within yourself that needs to be put on the cross.  One thing that prevents you from fully entering and sharing God’s love.  Maybe it’s a resentment. Or a fear.  Or a belief that someone is less deserving than you.  Or that you are less deserving.  Maybe it’s an attitude of indifference or a pattern of self-centeredness or the desire to always be right. Maybe it’s the excuse that you just don’t have the time.

Whatever it is, today Jesus shows us we can let it go; we can give it up, sacrifice it and live.  Live fully and abundantly in the shelter of God’s love, mercy and delight.  We can place it on the cross and be freed. Freed to love and be loved. Resurrection is a gift we are invited to receive.  God is doing a new thing.  Let us allow death that we might live. Truly, fully, abundantly live. Live as the beloved.