Thursday, April 25, 2019

From Good Friday morning

Following up on the Good Friday Eve thoughts and the wonderings about forgiveness, I am struck by something Japhia and I read last night in a book called Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner and Saint by Nadia Bolz-Weber.  

From her studies in Lutheran theology and even more from her experience of it, she says grace is not a matter of God saying to us sinners, "It's okay; I'll let you off the hook; I won't hold your sin against you, and will let you into heaven."

Rather, she says, it's about God saying to us broken creatures, "I care about Earth and about you too much to let you stay so broken, so here is the way and here is the help to not stay so broken forever."

I wonder if the readings and meditation below, which with some amazingly moving music were the substance of the liturgy at Fifty this Good Friday, connect at all with what Nadia Bolz-Weber shares with us.




Readings:
Mark 14:1-2, 10-16  (Plotting to capture Jesus)
Mark 14: 17-31         (Jesus gives himself into the hands of his disciples) 
Mark 14:32-52          (Jesus gives himself into the hands of his foes) 
Mark 14:53-72          (Jesus gives himself into the hands of his accusers) 
Mark 15:1-20            (Jesus gives himselfinto the hands of the governor
Mark 15:22-32          (Jesus is crucified)
Mark 15:33-39          (Jesus dies)
Meditation: The centurion’s witness – a different kind of God (see below)
Mark 15:40-47         (Jesus is given into the hands of his followers)

The Centurion's Witness: A different kind of God


“Truly this man was the Son of God.”  At first I didn’t even know it was me speaking these words into the sudden stillness on Golgotha Hill.

How could I say such a thing?  Of such a man as this?

The Caesar, and only the Caesar is son of God.  To be honoured and obeyed as such.  Embodiment of the god’s wisdom, law, good will and good order.  And the Empire ruled by him and served by us, God’s greatest gift to humanity.  The best the world can aspire to.  Meant to be in place world without end.

So why would I call someone like Jesus “Son of God”?  This broken, rejected, powerless Galilean we have just put to death?  This opposite of everything Rome and the empire are all about?

It’s awful to see these crucifixions and the suffering of these poor, misguided wretches.  But it’s reassuring to know justice has been served.  Law still prevails.  The Caesar and the gods are still in control.  When people do wrong they are judged and punished.

Because that’s what the gods want.  And what they do.  Keep track of right and wrong, good and evil.  Keep the books balanced.  Ensure all wrongdoings are paid for one way or another. 

Otherwise how will people learn?  How else will the world become the paradise it’s meant to be?

Of course, sometimes an innocent man is put to death.  It happens.  Sometimes even on purpose when a scapegoat, a fall-guy, a willing sacrifice absorbs the punishment and gets all the others off the hook.  Justice is served and the sinners go free.  Who doesn’t love a sacrifice that works out in your favour?

But I don’t think that’s what this – what he, is about.  I don’t think he does, either.

From what I’ve heard about the way he lived and what he taught and why he got into so much trouble with Jerusalem and Rome, it seems he didn’t see god as working that way.  Demanding sacrifice.  Requiring payment.  Needing to balance the books. 

And the way he died, it didn’t seem he was just balancing any books.  Stoically heroically covering someone else’s price to meet the needs of a record-keeping god up in heaven.

No.  Right to the end he was just passionately living the way of a very different kind of god right here on Earth.  A god of love.  And nothing but love.  Love for all.  Love even for his enemies and people he was in conflict with.  Love especially for any and all who are unloved by others.

Like me.  Standing here in my armour and my power over others at the foot of these crosses.  I mean, who ever really loves someone like me, who does what I do in the world?  Some days I can’t even love myself.

But when he looked at me from the cross I knew I was loved.  Loved in spite of myself.  And for myself.  Loved without price.  No payment needed, other than being open to being loved and being free to love others the same way.

I mean, is that any way for a god in heaven and a son of a god on earth to act?  But that un-nerved me – how he so openly, freely, defencelessly just put himself in my hands, to do with as I would.  That disarmed me and made me feel more naked, more weak, more opened-up, more on the threshold of an all-new life in an all-new world, a paradise on earth, than I have ever been made to feel by all the power-addicted, honour-dependent, book-keeping, payment-requiring gods I’ve spent all my life trying to serve.

With one look of love he put himself into my hands, to do with as I will. 

Pure and simple.  Only that.  And nothing else.  Ever.

No way for a god to act. 

But what do I do now? 

What on earth do I do with this god he’s given me? 


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