My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" When some of those standing there heard this, they said, "He's calling Elijah." Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. The rest said, "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to save him." And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

Matthew 27:45-53

We live in a culture where hope, or at least optimism, springs eternal. We believe in progress – given enough time, technology, good public policy and elbow grease will solve our problems and cure our ills. We don't like stories where the hero dies at the end – the thrill of James Bond and other action icons is not the suspense of whether the hero lives or dies, but how the hero manages to triumph when the deck is stacked against them.

But as those who believe that God's victory over sin, suffering, evil and death was won in the cross of Jesus Christ we are to reject such optimism. Matthew provides us with details that point to the dreadful reality of Jesus' death: darkness had come over the land, for the light of the world is about to be extinguished. The earth shook in grief and shock as the one through whom the earth was made breathed his last. The curtain in the Holy of Holies in the temple, where the very presence and glory of God was believed to dwell, was torn, a sign that this place had been abandoned by God. And there is Jesus' own cry of Godforsakeness: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus Christ, Son of Man and Son of God, suffered and died. There was no last minute reprieve, no last minute plan that saved his life. In the words of the Apostles' Creed, Jesus was "crucified, dead and buried," all at the hands of the most technologically savvy and most efficiently governed empire of the time.

We know that Jesus' death is not the end of the story, for we know the resurrection will come. But the resurrection does not make Jesus' death any less real; the resurrection does not remove the scandal of the cross. We are tempted to make the resurrection the happy ending, the hero's narrow escape from and victory over the villain. While the Scriptures teach that Jesus' resurrection from the dead is proof of God's faithfulness and provides us with the reason to hope in our own resurrection and in the new heavens and the new earth, the Scriptures also teach that it is through the seeming foolishness and weakness of the cross that God's wisdom and power are revealed. It is the cross that is the ultimate display of God's power, not the resurrection.

This contradicts everything we believe about power. Many in the wider church are spending massive amounts of time, energy and resources to help the church regain its influence in society through electing Christians to high public office and by encouraging Christian young people to find careers in law, medicine, business and politics so we can shape the culture from the top down. We equate power with control. Listen to these words from Stanley Hauerwas:

These words from the cross, and the cross itself, mean that the Father is to be found when all traces of power, at least as we understand power, are absent; that the Spirit's authoritative witness is most clearly revealed when all forms of human authority are lost; and that our God's power and authority is to be found exemplified in this captive under the sentence of death. The silence of Jesus before Pilate can now be understood for what it was – namely, that Jesus refuses to accept the terms of how the world understands power and authority.

We believe true power will prevent us from suffering, from ever feeling forsaken. The Presbyterian theologian William Placher, in his book "Narratives of a Vulnerable God," writes,

Human beings seek power because they are afraid of weakness, afraid of what might happen should they be vulnerable, and so the drive for power that looks like the purest expression of freedom proves in significant degree inspired by an enslaving fear that dares not risk vulnerability. . . Christian faith teaches that God is not powerful like that. The God who loves in freedom is not afraid and therefore can risk vulnerability, absorb the full horror of another's pain without self-destruction. God has the power to be compassionate without fear; human beings now as in the time of Jesus tend to think of power as refusal to risk compassion. But God's power looks not like imperious Caesar but like Jesus on the cross.

How do we understand the cross as a sign not of human weakness, but of God's power? How does the cross shape the way we understand the right use of power? These are questions for us to ask as we listen to these Scripture passages.You are invited to listen to these passages of Scripture as we pray for Jesus to make us part of his community that understands the true nature of power, power shaped by the cross:

Psalm 22

Isaiah 53

I Corinthians 1:18-2:5

II Corinthians 4:7-15

Revelation 5

Here is your son, here is your mother

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.

John 18:25-27

Jesus invites all who would follow him to become part of a cross-shaped community. Baptism, which marks our entry into the community of disciples, invites us to die with Christ, to be crucified with him, so we might be raised to new life. In the Lord's Supper we remember our cross-shaped identity by gathering around Christ's broken body. In the cross of Christ all that divides us – gender, ethnicity, social class – has been put to death, replaced by a new humanity shaped by Christ alone.

On the cross Jesus begins to form this new humanity. The beginning of John's Gospel John speaks those who are God's children not because of their blood relationship but because of God's Spirit and God's will (1:12-13). As Jesus is dying he entrusts his mother to his beloved disciple and his beloved disciple to his mother, forming a community based not on blood, but upon a shared relationship to Jesus.

When Jesus died on the cross and there was the rush to bury him before the Passover festival began, there was a strange mix gathered around Christ's body. Joseph of Arimathea was there, a wealthy man who by some accounts was a member of the Sanhedrin, the council that saw to Jesus' death. Nicodemus, a Pharisee and another likely member of the Sanhedrin was also there, but so were Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene and several other women who kept watch near the cross of Jesus. Joseph and Nicodemus, the ultimate insiders with wealth and status, found Jesus truer than riches and power. The women, distanced from God's presence at the temple, now offer their compassionate presence to the one in whom the fullness of God dwells. In Christ's death there is reconciliation. It is unlikely that anyone or anything other than Jesus would have brought Joseph, Nicodemus and these women together. When we gather as Christ's body, when we come to Christ's table to receive his broken body and shed blood we are invited to look around us and wonder at the reconciliation and unlikely fellowship God has gathered around his Son. In Christ's body there is reconciliation, hostilities have come to an end, and the new creation has been born.

We live in a world where the importance of biological kinship seems more important than ever. In the U.S many are lamenting the decline of the family due to divorce and out-of-wedlock births. Some are worried about this because it represents a breakdown in traditional morality, while others are concerned by the economic pressures and lack of opportunities faced by those in single-parent households. Around the globe we see all kinds of feuds and wars based on biology: Israelis versus Palestinians, Sunni's versus Shiites, Hutus versus Tutsis in Rwanda, Albanians versus Serbs in Kosovo, and the list could go on.

But on his cross Jesus brings these divisions, rivalries and enmities to an end. In the Lord's Supper we remember Jesus, but we are also "re-membered" by Jesus, joined into, made members of Jesus' body, of the Body of Christ, a fellowship based not on flesh and blood, but on the truth that "in Christ all things hold together, for God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross" (Colossians 1:17, 19-20).

Let us be attentive to how God calls us to reorder our notions of family and kinship because of our relationship with Jesus Christ. You are invited to listen to these passages of Scripture as we pray for Jesus to make us part of his cross-shaped community:

Mark 3:19b-21, 31-35

Matthew 10:34-39

Ephesians 2:11-22

Colossians 1:15-23

I Peter 2:4-10

 

 

Jesus, Remember Me

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: "Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself and us!" But the other criminal rebuked him. "Don't you fear God," he said, "since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." Jesus answered him, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."
Luke 23:39-43

At the cross we find kingdoms in conflict. From the beginning of his ministry Jesus proclaimed, in word and deed, the presence and nearness of God's kingdom. At the end of his life Jesus was brought before the worldly powers – King Herod, the ruling council in Jerusalem and the Roman Governor, Pilate – and condemned to death, an event that embodies the conflict between the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world.

It is likely that the criminals crucified with Jesus were also caught in the conflict between kingdoms. The cross was a form of punishment reserved for those considered a threat to Roman rule. These criminals may have been more than burglars or armed robbers. They may have been deliberately trying to disrupt Roman rule because of their desire to see God's Holy Land and Holy People free from Gentile rule. The Romans wished to be remembered for their power and prosperity. The criminals crucified with Jesus wished to be remembered for preserving the purity of their people by forcing the Romans out. But one of the criminals crucified with Jesus had a change of heart. When his friend started to insult Jesus, he rebuked him because he knew Jesus did not deserve this punishment. Then this one who had fought for one worldly kingdom and against another asked to be a part of Jesus' kingdom.

What do we make of kingdoms today? We no longer live in a culture governed by kings and queens, barons and baronesses, with positions of authority handed down through bloodlines from one generation to the next without the voice of the people being heard. At their heart kingdoms are stories about our place and purpose in the world. Rome's story was one of expansion, power and prosperity. Israel's story was about a God who had chosen an unlikely people to be the revealer of God's will. We are shaped by "kingdom stories" that help us find our place in the world. For some this may be the story of America and the spread of democracy and the freedom and rights of the individual. For others it might be the story of their family, of traditions and values going back for generations and to faraway lands. Others may derive their story from their work – doctors battling disease, teachers preparing future generations for fruitful lives, executives providing leadership for an organization they care deeply about. The kingdom of God works like one of these stories, helping us find our place and purpose in God's world. Sometimes this story may go hand in hand with other stories, sometimes it will conflict with them.

What is the kingdom of God like? How does this story shape the way we live? How is it different from the stories of other kingdoms and empires and nations of the world? You are invited to listen to these passages from Scripture as we pray for Jesus to remember us and make us part of his kingdom.

JMark 10:32-45

Isaiah 58:1-12

Matthew 5:1-12

Luke 4:16-30

John 18:33-38

John 19:8-15

“Father, Forgive Them”

When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."

Luke 23:33-34

When Jesus spoke these words, he spoke them as a prayer to the Father. They were not addressed to those who were torturing him, nor are these words about our need for forgiveness. These words are the intimate conversation between the beloved Son and his beloved Father. They reveal to us the heart of God, a heart shaped not by vengeance, punishment or retribution, but by love and mercy we cannot imagine. Jesus does not ask the Father to hunt down those who are killing him, to bring them to justice dead or alive. He asks that they be forgiven. Jesus does not use his power to strike down evildoers, but to forgive, to redeem those who sin, whether they are aware of their sin or not.

As we ponder this word from the cross this week, I invite you to be mindful of this story, shared by Stanley Hauerwas in his book Cross Shattered Christ: Meditations on the Seven Last Words. He tells the story of Christian de Cherge, a Catholic monk who was in charge of the Tibhrine monastery in Algeria. Hauerwas writes,

Christian and his fellow monks knew their refusal to leave Algeria after the rise of Islamic radicals in 1993 might result in their deaths. Anticipating his death – he was beheaded in 1996 by Muslim radicals – Christian left a testament with his family to be opened on his death. In that testament he asks that those who love him pray that he was worthy of such a sacrifice. He expresses the fear that his death will be used to accuse in general these people, these Islamic people, whom he has come to love.

He ends his testament observing:

Obviously, my death will justify the opinion of all those who dismissed me as naïve and idealistic: 'Let him tell us what he thinks now.' But such people should know that my death will satisfy my most burning curiosity. At last, I will be able – if God pleases – to see the children of Islam as He sees them, illuminated by the glory of Christ, sharing in the gift of God's Passion and of the Spirit, whose secret joy will always be to bring forth our common humanity amidst our differences. . . And to you, too, my friend of the last moment (a reference to his executioners), who will not know what you are doing. Yes, for you, too I wish this thank you, this 'A-Dieu,' whose image is in you also, that we may meet in heaven, happy like thieves, if it pleases God, our common Father."

We are invited to forgive not because it is good for our physical or emotional health, but because we are made in God's image and God has chosen mercy, grace and forgiveness instead of vengeance or retribution. Of course this does not mean forgiveness is easy. Imagine being Christian de Cherge's mother or father, brother or sister, reading his testament after his death. Imagine the overwhelming depths the Father felt as His beloved Son was crucified, then hearing, "Father, forgive them." To bear the cross, to follow Jesus is to forgive.

The last words of Jesus from the cross are words that only describe his death. Instead they reveal the fullness of his character, revealing a live lived in faithfulness to God and to us. As we listen to Jesus' prayer for forgiveness I invite you to listen to these passages of Scripture:

Matthew 5:21-26

Matthew 5:38-48

Mark 2:1-12

Luke 7:36-50

Matthew 18:21-35