One Sad
But Holy Day
A Meditation on the Death of Jesus
by Sue Stone
One Sad But Holy Day
But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus
Christ
- Galatians 6:14 RSV
He was
despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with
grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised,
and
we esteemed him not.
Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions,
he was bruised for our
iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that made us whole,
and with
his stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53: 3-5, RSV
The world does not understand this, Lord,
why I should want to bring to mind that sad but holy day,
when You became the curse for us,
when You carried that horrendous burden
far heavier than the wood of Your cross,
the sin of the world on Your sinless, torn and battered back.
Such is the scandal of God in the eyes of the world,
That out of disgrace and misery and pain,
Hope is born.
How heavy the weight of the unrighteousness of others on You,
the Son of righteousness,
hatred and the selfish lack of love piled high on You,
You who are all love,
all that darkness
on the shoulders of You who are always the Light,
as You brought the redemption that a loving God offered --
by Your stripes we are healed.
O Lord, let me think of the crowd that gathered in front of the Roman
judge,
pressing close and noisy that Friday morning,
thinking they were upholding the honor of the Father,
but caught up by the world who would not see You for who you are,
and know my sins were there as they screamed for Your blood.
Let me think of the whip and know that my sins were there,
driving the lead tipped leather to cut Your skin,
as You took the punishment that I deserved.
Let me remember how that my sinful hand joined the executioner
hammering the nails
through all the times I have chosen to do wrong,
not counting the cost that you so willingly bore to the depths of death.
The world does not understand,
does not want to understand,
chooses not to believe this foolishness of God,
the one thing truly to glory in,
a cursed death that is a marvelous victory,
yet for us who love You,
the scandal of the cross is our one hope and salvation.
Lord,
Let me never take for granted what You have wrought,
and contemplating that day with remorse and with gladness,
remember with a thankful heart how much I am loved,
now and forever.
_________________________________________
In the Garden
Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsem'ane, and
he said to his disciples, "Sit here, while I go yonder and pray."
And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zeb'edee, he began
to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, "My
soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me."
And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, "My
Father,
if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I
will, but as thou wilt."
And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he
said to Peter, "So, could you not watch with me one hour?
Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit
indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."
Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, "My Father,
if this cannot pass unless I drink it, thy will be done."
And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were
heavy. So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the
third time, saying the same words.
Matthew 26:36-44 RSV
How slow the moments must have seemed,
there in the garden,
among the olive trees that moonlit night,
as the trees uplifted their branches
in the dappled light and shadow
like arms uplifted in prayer.
Only they managed to stay and watch with you.
The garden grew quiet as your followers fell asleep
one by one,
unable to keep vigil,
even though you asked,
you wanted,
you needed.
Their gentle snoring was almost the only sound.
Did you see Peter
struggling to keep his eyes open,
John nudging him to stay awake,
only to succumb himself?
Was this, then, how it was to begin,
the isolation of the sacrificial victim,
The Father requiring you to give up everything that comforted
as you gazed into the gathering darkness,
even your companions in this long journey,
the witnesses to a loving God's concern.
No crutches or helpers then,
just you and the night.
How quiet it all was.
Did you begin to strain your ears
listening for sounds
of the gathering mob?
The Arrest
Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew the place; for Jesus
often met there with his disciples.
So Judas, procuring a band of soldiers and some officers from the chief
priests and the Pharisees, went there with lanterns and torches and
weapons.
Then Jesus, knowing all that was to befall him, came forward and
said to them, "Whom do you seek?"
They answered him, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus said to them, "I
am he." Judas, who betrayed him, was standing with them.
When he said to them, "I am he," they drew back and fell to the
ground.
Again he asked them, "Whom do you seek?" And they said, "Jesus
of Nazareth."
Jesus answered, "I told you that I am he; so, if you seek me,
let these men go." This was to fulfil the word which
he had spoken, "Of those whom thou gavest me I lost not one."
Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the high
priest's
slave and cut off his right ear. The slave's name was Malchus.
Jesus said to Peter, "Put your sword into its sheath; shall I
not drink the cup which the Father has given me?"
So the band of soldiers and their captain and the officers of
the Jews seized Jesus and bound him.
John 18: 2-12 RSV
How hard was it then, to gather the mob?
Did not the law require
that those who accuse
to go forth and arrest
the one they accused?
But with time, they were gathered,
and there they went,
across the valley and up the hill,
with torches and swords,
some with fear,
some with envy,
some for the excitement.
Some no doubt believed they were right,
but he came, though,
because he had to,
having tested the truth of his Master,
then turned away
into the darkness.
What did they expect to find there
when they reached the garden,
besides an olive press
and trees
under the full moon?
Were they looking for outlaws,
armed with swords and knives,
plotters of inssurrection,
or theft, or
rebellion?
He thought he knew what they would find,
sleepy men, maybe,
or praying, keeping vigil in the night,
men who thought that he was their friend,
unaware of the moment of truth he was bringing,
sitting with their teacher.
Perhaps the thought of His face
gave him a twinge,
but he walked on.
How hard was it then, to enter that garden?
The gates were unlocked, and the crowd
pushed through with ease.
He came through first,
with a soldier behind him,
stepping around the sleepy forms of men he knew so well.
Andrew wiping the sleep from his eyes,
Matthew and James,
who started to call his name in greeting,
then noticed the crowd behind,
Thomas who became instantly alert,
Peter and John, standing in front of the man he had come to see.
Pushing them aside, then he found Jesus.
Was this the man he left, just a few hours ago?
His clothes were damp, like sweat, on this cool spring night,
but there was the smell of iron in the air,
a smell like blood.
So tired and haggard he had grown in just half an evening,
reddish rivulets had trickled across his face,
pale harbingers of what would come in the morning,
blood like sweat.
Looking at Him there,
Perhaps he wondered at his own audacity,
wondered why he had found it worth following Him,
wondered what he would think tomorrow,
wondered if he could change his mind.
With a sigh, Jesus looked up, and met his gaze.
No anger there, nor fear, but awareness of it all,
Love and a sad determination.
Perhaps it felt like a knife going through him.
"Master," said Judas, and moved forward to seal his fate.
Peter in the Courtyard
Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the
high priest's house. Peter followed at a distance;
and when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the
courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat among them. Then a
maid, seeing him as he sat in the light and gazing at
him, said, "This man also was with him."
But he denied it, saying, "Woman, I do not know him."
And a little later some one else saw him and said, "You also
are one of them."
But Peter said, "Man, I am not."
And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying,
"Certainly this man also was with him; for he is a Galilean."
But Peter said, "Man, I do not know what you are saying."
And immediately, while he was still speaking, the cock crowed.
And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the
word
of the Lord, how he had said to him, "Before the cock crows today, you
will deny me three times." And he went out and wept
bitterly.
Luke 22: 54-62
A nightmare night,
a night of shadows,
he sat there by the fire,
cold,
alone,
afraid,
yet drawn to this place of danger
by a desperate desire to do something.
The darkness of his soul
how it matched the darkness of the night
as he sat by the fire
not listening to the jibes
of those who sat near him.
He stared into the fire
and waited.
His world falling apart,
he thought there was nothing left but fear.
"No, I don't know him," he said,
the words escaping his lips
in an unstoppable reflex
of self preservation.
Fear and anger and anguish,
the darkness of the night,
the pain of waiting,
"No, you are mistaken!"
he chokes on the words, perhaps,
torn in two.
The third time with curses,
and then he sees
the eyes that know,
the eyes so tired, so sad,
the eyes touch his
with loving forgivness
and his soul plunges into the final darkness
as the cock crows.
At Passover Time
And as soon as it was morning the chief priests, with
the
elders and scribes, and the whole council held a consultation; and they
bound Jesus and led him away and delivered him to Pilate. And
Pilate asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?"
And he answered him, "You have said so."
And the chief priests accused him of many things.
And Pilate again asked him, "Have you no answer to make? See how
many charges they bring against you."
But Jesus made no further answer, so that Pilate wondered.
Mark 15: 1-5 RSV
Friday morning in spring, full moon time,
Was the weather mild or cool that day
While the judge sat there, contemplating a crime
As the crowd swelled the city, making their way
At Passover time?
Did the whisper pass from ear to ear
That morning about the trial,
While those in the know crowded in to hear
What others said with a certain bile
At Passover time?
How big was the crowd in the courtyard that day?
An unexpected spectacle to prove their worth
As Abraham's sons, their cries for death part of the way
To give a new covenant a birth
At Passover time.
How frail you must have seemed when he presented you
Bloody and beaten, crowned with thorn
to the angry crowd with their cries and their hue,
Looking not like a king, but a person to mourn
At Passover time.
As the sentence was passed and the verdict he gave,
They led you away to die by cross and by nail
A new passage of blood on life's lintel to save
By your sacrifice there as the women did wail
At Passover time.
The First Blow
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for
our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and
with his stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5 RSV
The whip travels in a descending arc,
three thongs carrying weights of lead
double headed cargo
to increase the impact.
The hand that wields is
the rough and calloused hand
of a soldier doing a duty,
unknowing,
uncaring
of whose back it was in front of him.
Perhaps as he swings,
he thinks of all the looks of disdain,
the women who turn away,
the men who spit when he passes
and they think he does not see,
this strange people
with their strange hates
and strange language
and strange god,
and in retalliation,
he swings harder.
Yet his hand is not alone
on the braided leather of the handle,
his hand,
shadowed by every hand,
my hand,
my arm swinging the leather,
my sin adding to the agony
of that blow,
my darkness slapping against his skin,
causing him to gasp for breath
as it bites
my weakness the lead gouges digging.
Mea culpa,
mea culpa,
mea maxima culpa.
The Mocking
But I am a worm, and no man; scorned by men, and despised by
the people.
All who see me mock at me, they make mouths at me, they wag
their heads;
"He committed his cause to the LORD; let him deliver him,
let
him rescue him, for he delights in him!"
Yet thou art he who took me from the womb;
thou didst keep me
safe upon my mother's breasts.
Upon thee was I cast from my birth,
and since my mother bore
me thou hast been my God.
Be not far from me, for trouble is near and there is none to
help.
Psalm 22:6-11 RSV
Once they mocked Him with a crown of twisted thorns,
the soldiers there,
a game to amuse themselves
while they passed the time,
to prove how secure they were in this foreign land
how much stronger,
how much in control.
No threat, He,
beaten, bloody, bound,
an interesting toy
to play with in the morning.
Now they mock Him
with a crown of twisted words,
those who choose to despise Him,
soliders in a different war,
yet still in need of games to amuse themselves with,
to prove how much wiser, stronger, smarter they are,
how they can turn their back on his open hand,
They look for ways to push the crown in deeper,
to add their spittle to His face,
other rags for Him to wear
so they can rip them off in mockery,
using Him as an interesting toy
to prove their independence.
And yet, despite of all their lies,
the tomb is still empty,
and the witness of God's mercy still lives,
passing from heart to heart,
life to life,
believer to believer.
At the Trial
Pilate went out again, and said to them, "See, I am bringing
him out to you, that you may know that I find no crime in him."
So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple
robe. Pilate said to them, "Behold the man!"
When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out,
"Crucify him, crucify him!"
Pilate said to them, "Take him yourselves
and crucify him, for I find no crime in him."
The Jews answered him, "We have a law, and by that law he ought
to die, because he has made himself the Son of God."
When Pilate heard these words, he was the more afraid; he
entered the praetorium again and said to Jesus, "Where are you from?"
But Jesus gave no answer.
Pilate therefore said to him, "You will not speak to me? Do you
not
know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?"
Jesus answered him, "You would have no power over me unless it
had been
given you from above; therefore he who delivered me to you has the
greater sin."
Upon this Pilate sought to release him,
but the Jews cried out, "If you release this man, you are not Caesar's
friend; every one who makes himself a king sets himself against
Caesar."
When Pilate heard these words, he brought
Jesus out and sat down on the judgment seat at a place called The
Pavement, and in Hebrew, Gab'batha. Now it was the day of
Preparation of the Passover; it was about the sixth hour. He said to
the Jews, "Behold your King!"
They cried out, "Away with him, away with him, crucify him!"
Pilate
said to them, "Shall I crucify your King?" The chief priests answered,
"We have no king but Caesar."
John 19: 4-15 RSV
O Mother Mary,
as Pilate tried your son,
were you in the courtyard
to hear those hateful voices
tear at your heart -
Kill Him!
Crucify Him!
This was your child
they were focusing all their hate on,
your child,
the child of promise
who you had watched grow,
saw bloom into the gift of God
to an undeserving mankind,
the healer,
the teacher,
the sign to be contradicted.
O Mother Mary,
did you see what they had done to him
as they led him out,
beaten and bloody,
crowned with a mockery of a crown,
almost unrecognisable
from the blood and from the bruising.
This was your child,
the child angels announced,
the child who loved his Father so much
he tarried behind at the temple
and almost broke your heart in fear,
the child who healed the wounded
now wounded in so many ways.
O Mother Mary,
did you at that moment pray,
like your son had, the night before,
"O my God, not my will, but yours?"
Ecce Homo
The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, "Behold, the
Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!
John 1:29 RSV
You stand there Lord,
before the haughty Roman judge,
bloody,
beaten,
abandoned.
Behold, says Pilate.
So frail you seem,
as you lift your bloodied head
and look upon this gathered crowd,
hungry as jackals.
Bruised and battered, the face
that looks out over the assembly
gazes not with hot hatred
or numb resignation of the broken,
nor self-pity,
but with love
and grief
and an unfathomable caring
that yearns to heal each of us.
Lord, I am not worthy to meet your gaze.
Have I not, like Peter,
denied you?
Or like Judas, betrayed you;
Time after time, have I not
added to your stripes,
pierced your head
with the hard thorns of an unloving heart?
And yet here you stand,
pouring yourself out like a drink offering,
letting the cup be drained
until nothing is left.
Lord, you said the word to heal me -
let me never forget the price you paid.
Jesus Carries His Cross
But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus
Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the
world.
Galatians 6: 14 RSV
And he called to him the multitude with his disciples, and said to
them, "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up
his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will
lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will
save it. For what does it profit a man, to gain the whole world
and forfeit his life? For what can a man give in return for
his life?
For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and
sinful generation, of him will the Son of man also be ashamed, when he
comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."
Mark 8: 34-38, RSV
Each step, each breath, each beat of your heart - pain.
The weight of the cross so heavy,
each step a small miracle of your perseverance,
the determination to pay that price,
no matter how shaky the legs,
how short the breath,
how much it cost to make each step.
Glorified.
This is how the Father does it,
the way he did not ask Abraham to take,
no sacrifice of the firstborn for his chosen people,
a gifting consumed by blood and fire.
No.
But through you, his only-begotten,
laboring there beneath the crossbeam,
Your hair and face streaked with blood beneath the thorny crown,
face beneath the smears ashen with pain,
and the gathering doom in your chest,
already making you hungry for breath,
scapegoat,
bearing the sins of the world,
each bruise, each welt merely a token of what they deserve.
Glorified
as you walk,
the smell of blood and fear and sweat and death and pain
swirling around you,
our deaths, our pains, our griefs
on your one set of shoulders,
each movement crying out its pain,
only a foretaste of the pains ahead,
until, fulfilled,
you slip away,
glorified indeed by the hands of your loving Father,
and in that new dawning,
hope born in the birthpangs we can only imagine,
you will stand glorified,
our Lord
world without end,
Amen.
The Fourth Station of the Cross: Jesus Meets His Mother
Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this
man
was righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel, and
the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by
the Holy Spirit that he should not see death before he had seen the
Lord's Christ. And inspired by the Spirit he came into the
temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him
according to the custom of the law, he took him up in his arms
and blessed God and said,
"Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy
word;
for mine eyes have seen thy salvation
which thou hast prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to thy people
Israel."
And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about
him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother,
"Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel,
and for a sign that is spoken against (and a sword will pierce through
your own soul also), that thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed."
Luke 2: 25-35 RSV
How long ago you heard
the words of Simeon:
your dearest son
a sign of contradition,
a sword to pass through you,
and here it is,
that moment so long ago,
dreaded,
feared,
fulfilled.
It is not a long walk
from the judgement place
to the place of execution,
but the way is filled
with the passover crowd,
and the streets are narrow.
how you have to struggle,
trying to follow,
to get close,
to see.
The procession halts for a moment,
and soon you see why,
as he lies there,
bloody,
burdened,
tasting the dust of the street.
An exasperated soldier
begins a kick to motivate him,
but for some reason,
realizes the futility of it,
and begins to yank him up.
For a moment you touch him,
try to comfort him,
feel the sword go deeper into your heart.
How deep the sword must go before it is over.
Mary on the Way to Golgotha
Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any
sorrow like my sorrow?
Lamentations 1:12a RSV
How thick the crowd must have seen,
O Lady of Sorrows,
as you threaded your way
in that numbing timelessness
that comes with crisis,
each second seeming to last minutes,
your son,
your son,
his beautiful face,
swollen,
bleeding, battered,
breaking your heart.
How much you must have wanted to scream
NONONONONO!
Don't let this be today,
now,
at this moment,
ever,
even though you knew he was given to you
for just this purpose,
and the sword you felt
had been fortold long ago.
How hard it must have been
not to throw yourself at the guards,
to some how get them to stop,
to let him rest,
to give him a chance
to change his mind
and make this all a nightmare.
And yet, you merely told God
Your will be done,
and continued on,
giving all you had
until the end
and darkness fell.
Simon of Cyrene
And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the purple cloak,
and put his own clothes on him. And they led him out to crucify
him. And they compelled a passer-by, Simon of Cyre'ne, who was
coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry
his cross.
Mark 15: 20-21 RSV
Perhaps he had heard you preach
the week before,
as you proclaimed the good news
in the temple.
Or perhaps he had been busy
working in the fields
and had no time for the latest gossip
as the city swelled with pilgrims
and the feast neared.
Dusky skinned and dusty from his work,
grabbed by the Roman guard
to insure that you would live
long enough for them to kill you,
did he look at you,
bloodied, beaten, exhausted,
so close to the edge of death,
with disgust and fear,
or did you see a twinkle of compassion
cross his eyes
as they cut the ropes tieing the heavy beam
to your arms,
and laid it across his shoulders.
And did the walk the last bit of the way
with women crying and people jeering
cause him to look at you anew,
to lose his anger
and feel grief and sorrow take its place
as the sad procession wound its way to the end?
Amazing,
that we still remember
this poor man,
servant in the fields
long after so many others have passed into dust,
because your life touched his.
Jesus About to Be Crucified
The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I turned not
backward. I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to
those who pulled out the beard; I hid not my face from shame and
spitting. For the Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been
confounded; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that
I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near.
Isaiah 50: 5-8 RSV
The last moment
when you stood upon the ground,
felt the dust beneath your feet,
and had the dignity of your clothes,
blood stained and dirty though they were,
did the women who offered you
wine and myrrh wonder at the gently look you gave them,
and the firm rejection
of the small mercy they offered?
Did the soldiers who prepared for your death,
hard men, they,
at your side since the procession began
wonder at how you were diferent,
as you calmly gave them the last of your wordly goods,
garment by garment.
Did they notice,
and did it make them angry,
that you,
who should have been cringing, cursing and crying
calmly waited for the next wave of pain.
Did those travelling into the city that day,
who could not help but see the executioners at work
call out in recognition,
in pity, or in scorn
as the soldiers
threw you to the ground and took out their hammer and nails?
The Nailing
Many bulls encompass me,
strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
they open wide their mouths at me,
like a ravening and roaring lion.
I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax,
it is melted within my breast;
my strength is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue cleaves to my jaws;
thou dost lay me in the dust of death.
Yea, dogs are round about me;
a company of evildoers encircle me;
they have pierced my hands and feet
Psalm 22:12-16 RSV
Did those who stood by you that awful day
tell you not to look,
O Lady of Sorrows,
As he was thrown to the ground,
naked, battered, bloody,
stretched out upon that dreadful crossbeam?
Did you cling to the Magdalene, O Sorrowful Mother,
as the Roman guards,
methodical and professional,
put those large square nails against his wrists,
hit hammer against nail?
Could anything prepare you
for the cries
ripped from his throat
as they finished their task?
Crucifixion
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned every one to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is dumb,
so he opened not his mouth.
By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
and as for his generation,
who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people?
Isaiah 53: 6-8 RSV
Lord,
the pain wraps around us,
throbbing,
throbbing,
like the rhythm
of the hammer fall
piercing,
deeper,
lodging in the wood.
The pain,
oh the pain,
a woman crying out
as her loved one is slain,
a child shocked
at the blood
falling from a beheaded parent,
the armwrenching agony
as they hauled you,
nailed to the crossbeam
up up to the drop,
white pain electric
through your arms
as the beam found the mortise,
like the pain of the tortured
screaming beneath their captor's hands,
screaming as the electricity
screams through their bodies,
throbbing,
screaming,
the pain of being stripped
of everything but the paim
and the stares
as they gambled,
waiting for the blood to fall
for the breath to end
like guards at a starvation ward
waiting for thirst to end his praying,
like nurses piling blankets high
in the name of mercy killing,
the pain,
throbbing,
with each beat of your heart,
each hard sought breath,
like the pain of the deserted,
lost in the wilderness,
aching,
bereft,
afraid of the hand of man,
victim of terror,
victim of rape,
victim of starvation,
scurrying by night
seeing her child die,
like your mother,
watching each last breath,
dying inside
watching your death.
O Lord,
the pain,
you wrapped yourself around it,
accepted it,
tasted it,
drank it
down to the bitter dregs,
and bore all the burden
of man's evil,
of man's inhumanity
down to the pit of death,
walking each step with us,
walking each step along with us,
and accepting that last, lone breath,
shattered the chain.
Lord, in our grief,
hold us,
and tell us
as we unite with you,
as we live for you
you live for us,
and when the pain,
the last ache,
the last throb
is over and done,
you will take us
to where
pain is banished.
Mary Magdalene
There were also women looking on from afar, among whom were Mary
Mag'dalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and
Salo'me, who, when he was in Galilee, followed him, and
ministered to him; and also many other women who came up with him to
Jerusalem.
Mark 15: 40-41 RSV
Holding up her hands,
she did not know if she raised them
in prayer,
pleading,
or anger,
watching him die.
"O Lord, Master of the Universe,
let me wake up
and discover this is all a nightmare,"
she whispered.
His mother touched her shoulder.
Together, they wept silently,
tears rolling down their cheeks
as they watched
he who was the center of their life
slowly ebb,
blood drop by blood drop,
breath by breath,
moment by moment.
In all the frazzled weariness
that had made up so much of her life,
he had brought
the healing touch,
the acceptance and love
that had showed her the way to God,
those things she thought denied to her forever,
and here, her gentle master
hung unrecognizable,
yet without a word of anger
at those who misused him.
Ignoring the mockery of the soldiers,
she drew near as she could be,
collapsing in her tears,
her heartbreak,
her love.
How little she knew
how her tears and love would be rewarded
as her aching sorrow would turn to
amazing, bewildered joy
come Sunday morning.
Dismas on the Cross
One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, "Are you
not the Christ? 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
justly; for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man
has done nothing wrong."
And he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
And he said to him, "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in
Paradise."
Luke 23: 39-43 RSV
Your mouth tasted
of dust,
and blood,
and fear,
and pain.
Fear-
the knowledge of what was to come by sunset,
when you entered that darkness,
the pit that was awaiting you,
reward for your deeds.
Through the veil
of self-pity
and pain
and loathing,
you noticed the interplay
between the man in the middle
and those around him.
Jesus --
had you heard that name before,
heard of the healings,
the teachings,
the holiness?
How battered he was now,
scourged
and stripped
and wounded
and dying.
Jesus
healer of the blind,
promiser of hope,
now the victim.
Did you notice the women
who came to watch,
daring the mockery of the soldiers,
focused only on him?
No loved ones for you
to witness your last moments -
those who might have cared
long realizing
that you would only bring them grief.
Had you been moved
when the procession stopped
as he hit the ground,
and his mother found him,
gave him one last caress
before you were dragged off again?
Did you notice those who cared,
she who wiped his face,
those who wept?
When your gazes meet,
Jesus and yours,
Were you surprised to see the depths of love
that could love even in the wells of death,
the depths of pain,
even someone like you?
And in that moment did you see
the truth in the Roman's sign?
Jesus On the Cross
And it was the third hour, when they crucified him. : And the
inscription of the charge against him read, "The King of the
Jews." And with him they crucified two robbers, one on his right
and one on his left.
And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads, and
saying, "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three
days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!"
So also the chief priests mocked him to one another with the
scribes, saying, "He saved others; he cannot save himself.
Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that
we may see and believe."
Those who were crucified with him also reviled him.
And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole
land until the ninth hour.
And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "E'lo-i, E'lo-i,
la'ma sabach-tha'ni?" which means, "My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?"
Mark 15:25-34 RSV
How hard the wood rubbed against
your bruised and bleeding back,
how hard the iron
that made your arms
throb with excruciating pain,
how the thorns dug in when you held your head fully up,
a symphony of pain
whose depths I can only vaguely
imagine,
how hard it was to see
the Magdalene there,
weeping her heart out,
your aunt,
and especially,
your mother,
who watched every moment,
sharing your pain
as you moved into the darkness of death,
but could any of these compare
to the wall of separation
from your Father
that our sins,
the sins of the world
placed between you,
until, bereft of everything but pain
and the approach of death,
you cried out
like a child longing
for the parent
he couldn't see.
All this for love.
Waiting
When the soldiers had crucified Jesus they took his garments and
made
four parts, one for each soldier; also his tunic. But the tunic was
without seam, woven from top to bottom; : so they said to one another,
"Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be."
This was to fulfil the scripture, "They parted my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots."
John 19: 23-24 RSV
The smell of blood was in the air, the smell of fear, the smell of death
as the slow process of the execution continued,
long after those who came to taunt got bored
and wandered off back into the city, the day's excitement over.
It takes time to die from pain and exposure and the need to breathe,
a tedious process.
The soldiers made themselves as comfortable as possible,
looking up at their charges from time to time, settling down for the
long wait.
Dice passed the time, some, and the same stale jokes,
and daydreams about what to do once they left this crazed country,
Some onlookers stayed behind, women mostly.
The soldiers glanced their way from time to time,
occasionally exchanging a comment about this one or that.
These were not the type of women that looked at soldiers, though,
but instead, their eyes and hearts stayed focused on the man from
Gallilee.
They held each other close, this knot of women
Chaperoned by a young man, almost a boy, sad and determined,
all bound by love and fear and shock and grief,
the need to pray, the need to mourn, the need to witness.
Swatting a fly, the centurion looked away from the women,
and thought about his mother, and his father's farm,
and wondered, not for the first time, why he became a soldier
At the Foot of the Cross
After this Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfil
the scripture), "I thirst."
A bowl full of vinegar stood there; so they put a sponge full of the
vinegar on hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the
vinegar, he said, "It is finished"; and he bowed his head and gave up
his spirit.
John 19: 28-30 RSV
I kneel here,
pebbles and sand grinding into my knees,
at this place dedicated to death,
and ignore the flies,
the smells of blood
and fear
and dying,
longing to shield my eyes
from the reality of what we have wrought
with our anger
and greed
and pride
and hate,
and yet,
as you call my name
and I look up into those eyes
in spite of myself,
in spite of my guilt,
in spite of my remorse,
"It's really about love, you know," you whisper,
and I collapse
and watch you die,
knowing never
can I deserve this gift
so freely offered
in pain,
in knowlege,
in love.
Deo gratias.
How Red the Blood
You know that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from
your fathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold,
but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without
blemish or spot.
I Peter 1:18-19 RSV
How red the blood,
red,
dark,
offered up drop by drop
to the soldier's whip,
to the thorn's bite,
to the executioner's nail,
to the long wait on the cross.
Trickling down his arms,
across his feet,
down his forehead,
red blood,
sticky,
mark of death,
fluid of life,
blood of sacrifice,
redemption.
O Sacrifice of Love,
O Victim Conqueror,
O Lamb of God
who takes away the sins of the world,
have mercy on us,
heal us by the blood you so willingly shed,
give us hearts of love.
Amen.
After the Earthquake
And Jesus cried again with a loud voice and yielded up his
spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in
two, from top to bottom; and the earth shook, and the rocks were
split. When the centurion and those who were with him,
keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they
were filled with awe, and said, "Truly this was the Son of God!"
Matthew 27: 50-51, 54 RSV
After the earthquake
and you got up off your knees, Centurion,
as your men remembered who they were --
soldiers, and not frightened children, and took their places back --
did you look long and hard
on that limp, empty body hanging there on the cross,
battered and beaten at the hands of your men,
and think about the stories about him you had heard?
Had it bothered you as the day wore on,
the impassioned politics of this day screaming for blood,
winding about their strange God in this strange land,
in ways you didn't quite understand?
But you had seen the amount of hate he had generated
in the shallow, grasping power plays
by men who would spit on you if they thought you weren't looking.
Jerusalem,
a city smoldering with tension
as the festival peaked,
threatening to blow up in a conflagration -
and as he hung there like a blood sacrifice designed to appease
something unseeable,
did it dawn on you that you and your men were the tools
in the hand of forces beyond your vision,
that painful march from palace to execution site
a dark lustral procession
with you as master of ceremonies?
Such a day.
Standing there, transfixed by his dead gaze,
the blood-streaked face,
the blood-wetted hair
as you looked up into a face touched with no anger, no hate,
but a weary bloodied acceptance,
and a certain, strange peace as in a job well done.
After it all,
after the mockery and the forgiveness,
after the darkness,
after the last drawn out cry,
after the earthquake,
you no longer questioned -
you knew that you had been touched by the hand of Heaven.
"Surely this man,
this righteous man
was the son of God."
you said loud enough to be heard.
Would you have been amazed to know
how long those words have been remembered?
Pieta
But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's
sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Mag'dalene. When Jesus
saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near, he said
to his mother, "Woman, behold, your son!" Then he said to the disciple,
"Behold, your mother!" And from that hour the disciple took her to his
own home.
After this Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfil
the scripture), "I thirst."
A bowl full of vinegar stood there; so they put a sponge full of the
vinegar on hyssop and held it to his mouth.
When Jesus had received the vinegar, he said, "It is finished"; and he
bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
Since it was the day of Preparation, in order to prevent the bodies
from remaining on the cross on the sabbath (for that sabbath was a high
day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that
they might be taken away. So the soldiers came and broke
the legs of the first, and of the other who had been crucified with
him; but when they came to Jesus and saw that he was
already dead, they did not break his legs. But one of the
soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out
blood and water.
He who saw it has borne witness -- his testimony is true, and he knows
that he tells the truth -- that you also may believe. For
these things took place that the scripture might be fulfilled, "Not a
bone of him shall be broken." And again another scripture says,
"They shall look on him whom they have pierced."
John 19: 25-27 RSV
No day like this, ever.
Did you sit there, Mother,
When they laid Him in your lap
And remember the angel with his words of promise,
And remember the words of Simeon with his words of warning,
And remember your Son nestled in your lap,
Small and warm and new,
Smiling in the sun?
As you brushed the blood soaked hair off His forehead,
And washed his face, one last time,
Counting every bruise, mark, wound,
Did you think of all the times of danger,
Fleeing with Him next to your breast
On the road to Egypt?
Or how the villagers in Nazareth
Tried to cast Him off a cliff,
All those other moments where his very presence
Showed that He was, indeed,
A sign of contention,
A sign of contradiction?
One last kiss,
One last giving of your yes to the Father
As you embraced fully the sword buried in your heart
As they buried your heart in the tomb
For the long midnight ahead.
The Shroud
After this Joseph of Arimathe'a, who was a disciple of Jesus, but
secretly, for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away
the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him leave. So he came and took away
his body. Nicode'mus also, who had at first come to him by
night, came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred
pounds' weight.
They took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the
spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews.
Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the
garden a new tomb where no one had ever been laid. So because of
the Jewish day of Preparation, as the tomb was close at hand, they laid
Jesus there.
John 19:39-42 RSV
How white the linen
they laid out
at first.
How clean the water was
in its ewer,
waiting to be poured.
How fresh the towel.
Loving hands though,
soon turned the waters
ruby red
in a vain attempt
to erase some of the terrors of the day.
Sweet spice could not wholly
cover up the smell
of blood,
of pain,
of death,
of the cost of redemption.
Loving hands, though,
wrapped the linen snugly
over his prostrate form,
as if in final gesture,
a last farewell,
letting the whiteness of the sheet
turn what color it would,
Loving hands
never knowing
what image
their care
would leave behind.
Night
It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was
beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee
followed, and saw the tomb, and how his body was laid; then
they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. On the sabbath they
rested according to the commandment.
Luke 23: 54-56 RSV
O Blessed Mother,
O Lady of Sorrows,
How dark that night must have been,
when they led you home
from Golgotha and the tomb.
Did you find yourself
staring numbly
into the dark,
seeing the sad day's moments
playing over and over
in your mind,
as the quiet tears
trickled down your cheeks?
Did they gather together,
one by one,
the scattered disciples,
afraid of each noise
yet not knowing where to go,
except towards you,
all they had left
of their master?
Did they come to hold you in your grief,
or come to be mothered?
John at the Tomb
Now on the first day of the week Mary Mag'dalene came to the tomb
early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken
away from the tomb. So she ran, and went to Simon Peter and the other
disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, "They have taken
the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."
Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the
tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and
reached the tomb first; and stooping to look in, he saw the linen
cloths lying there, but he did not go in.
Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; he saw
the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, which had been on his
head, not lying with the linen cloths but rolled up in a place by
itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also
went in, and he saw and believed.
John 20:1-8 RSV
How strange it was
to see the empty room
where only a short time before
you had helped lay him to rest.
How tenderly she had wrapped
the cloth around him,
as tenderly as she had dressed him
as a baby,
the last, sad duty
a grieving mother could offer.
And there it was,
blood-streaked,
laid out just as it was left,
but now empty of any burden.
Suddenly,
did not the pieces click together,
as your mind finally realized
the unhoped for reality in front of you:
He was risen.
And from the deepest depths of your being,
the grief shattered,
as an unhoped for joy filled your heart.
______________________________________
Conclusion
Sic Deus Dilexit Mundum - For God so
loved the World.
For God so loved the world,
the Son emptied himself and became man.
For God so loved the world.
he became poor and humble.
For God so loved the world,
he preached and healed and loved and prayed
even as people misunderstood him and often turned away.
For God so loved the world,
he let himself suffer agony in the garden,
knowing full well the sinfulness of man.
For God so loved the world,
he let himself be betrayed and denied and deserted
by those closest to him.
For God so loved the world,
he allowed himself to be abused and mocked
by those who should have given justice.
For God so loved the world,
he allowed himself to be scourged dreadfully,
for our sakes.
For God so loved the world,
he accepted the crown of thorns.
For God so loved the world,
he bore his cross willingly.
For God so loved the world,
he was nailed to the cross as a sacrifice for our sins.
For God so loved the world
he suffered and died in agony that we might live.
For God so loved the world
He arose on the third day, breaking the chains of death,
for our salvation.
Alleluia!