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:
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