Lent 5 - What kind of God would let Jesus suffer like this?

The journey nears its end / A fully human Jesus

In our journey with Jesus along the Via Dolorosa from his trial to his execution, we have nearly reached the place where he is to be crucified. It’s only been a short walk, a little over half a mile, from Pilate's court to the place of execution. But, for one who has been beaten, scourged and made to carry a heavy cross, one has been without any sleep, it was too far. As he climbed the hill to the place of the skull, Golgotha, where he will be executed, he stumbled yet again. Jesus had lost his strength, his power, his reputation. Most of his closest friends had abandoned him. Feared for their own lives, they had run away; even Peter, the one he called the rock, had denied him saying “I don’t know the man”.  This is the fully human Jesus at the end of his rope, no energy left, but forced to carry on.

Jesus falls a third time. In this final fall, he shares the exhaustion of those who feel overwhelmed by difficulties. Who amongst us hasn’t at some point reached the stage where everything seemed lost?

If Jesus can struggle with His cross, it is okay for us to do so, too. We stop, we are in pain, we are anxious about many things. Maybe we are without hope or we’re humiliated, or maybe we fear the future.  Whatever hurts us, we just want to quit. We fall, and sometimes we will feel that it is all we do, as we fall a second, third, and even fourth time. Then we are given strength we didn’t know we had, and we continue on - like Jesus.

Carrying on …  Stripped of clothes and dignity

As Jesus struggles to his feet, still carrying his cross, surely, he must think to himself, "What else do I have to lose? What more can they do to me except take my life?"   He has lost his friends, his strength, his freedom, his reputation, the respect of the crowds who had followed him faithfully. His whole body hurts. But there is one more thing. One more humiliation that Jesus has to bear before he is nailed to the cross . The Roman soldiers, as was their tradition, as was their practice, before crucifying a person, stripped him of his clothes, yes, all of them.

Naked

On that hill, Jesus stood in front of everyone stark naked, seen by the watching and jeering crowds, his mother, a few friends, mostly women, the roman executioners. I know we’re all used to seeing crucifixes and paintings of the crucifixion where Jesus has his private parts covered with a loin cloth, but the historical records confirm that Romans executed those they considered traitors and criminals without any clothing whatsoever. Public stripping was used as a instrument of torture...as a method of intentionally shaming, humiliating and dehumanizing.  Even the Jews would have accepted this; Jewish tradition was that a man who incurs the death penalty is stoned naked although a woman was not to be naked when stoned.

This is confirmed by early Christian fathers who, in their writings, speak of Jesus as going to his death naked; for example, Saint Melito, Bishop of Sardis (who died around CE180) wrote in a sermon that “[Jesus ] has been made unrecognizable by his naked body, and is not even allowed a garment to keep him from view. “  

Clothes as non verbal identity

Notice that phrase “made unrecognizable by his naked body”.  Our clothes are a powerful form of non-verbal communication, giving immediate clues about our personality, social status, confidence, and intent. Sometimes they even disclose our profession or religion. Through colors, fit, and style, attire signals to others who we are—or want to be—shaping first impressions regarding our professionalism, creativity, or emotional state, often influencing how we are treated.  But clothing also expresses social identity[1], and like a ritual itself, clothing connects the body of the individual to the social body in which he or she dwells.

By stripping him of his clothes, the Romans have subjected Jesus to the fracturing of his social and spiritual identity, by the violent removal (literally and figuratively)  of the fabric that connected him to his “self in community” and have exposed him to public ridicule, shame, torment and humiliation. His public stripping means that Jesus is no longer anything at all, he is simply an outcast, to  be despised and belittled.  This makes the sign placed above him on the cross, "This is the King of the Jews," even more ironic and yet another mockery.

Why did God let Jesus suffer?

So now we are ready to leave Jesus as he reaches the place of his crucifixion, but as we leave him, there are some questions to be answered:

• Why did God let him suffer?

• Couldn't God have saved him even at this late stage?

• What kind of a God is this?

What kind of God is this?

What kind of a God do you believe in? I'm going to say a few words about the God I believe in. I've come to this point after many hours of reading, thinking, even praying about it and observing the world around us. I'm not saying I'm right. I'm not saying you should believe this way. I'm just going to give you a picture of where I've come to in my journey of faith.

A Collaborative God

I believe in a collaborative God, not an interventionist God. I don't believe that God reaches down and changes the laws of nature to "save some people and not others." If an airplane is going to crash, I don't think God says, "I'll save the person in seat 14B and maybe that family in row 28. The rest of them? Too bad." If somebody has cancer, I don't think God says, "Oh, a lot of people have prayed for Joe. I'll heal his cancer, but Sally? Hmm. Well, no, maybe not."

So what about Prayer?

That doesn't mean that I don't believe that prayer is powerful. I think of prayer as being a bit like dark matter and dark energy. Scientists know dark matter and dark energy exist through indirect gravitational effects and cosmological observations, as they cannot be seen directly.

They can't detect them directly, but they know they have  an effect. That's what prayer is to me: something I don't understand, but something that doesn't invalidate the laws of nature that I know. But it works.

God uses us to bring change

So if God does not intervene and change the laws of nature, what sort of God do I believe in? I believe in a collaborative God, a God who invites humanity into co-laboring, fostering a relational, creative partnership rather than a top-down dictatorship.  St. Teresa of Avila put it this way: " Christ has no body but yours, No hands, no feet on earth but yours."

God does not override our free will but works with individuals to achieve God’s purposes, inviting us to bring our best to the endeavor.  Because we have free will, we can choose to work with God or to work against God. We can work towards bringing more love into the world, or we can serve our own selfish desires. And in the story of the crucifixion and the walk along the Via Dolorosa, we see mainly people working in their selfish, self-interest or apathy.

What change will you bring?

Which brings me to yet another question for each one of us. Who am I in this story? Who are you in this story? Are we the Jewish leaders who wanted rid of Jesus because he was disrupting their comfortable life and beliefs? Are we Pilate, who saw that Jesus could cause trouble for him and, with no concern for his guilt and innocence, was prepared to take the easy route and get rid of him? Are we the Roman soldiers who were just doing their job? Most of them considered themselves ordinary, decent people, and after a day of crucifixions they would go home, tuck their kids in bed, read them a bedtime story, and sit down to have a drink with their wives and friends.  Are we the bystanders who viewed this as a piece of theater, or the friends and family who stood wringing their hands, totally helpless? Maybe even Veronica, who did the little bit she could do by wiping the sweat and tears from Jesus' face as he walked along?

At different times and in different circumstances, I think there's a bit of each of these people in us as we look around our fractured world and so often wring our hands, feeling helpless at the things that are going on. We can do our little bit, like Veronica did.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours

As we think about that, I'm going to leave you with the full words of the poem by Teresa of Avila that I quoted earlier.

Christ has no body but yours, No hands, no feet on earth but yours,

Yours are the eyes with which he looks Compassion on this world,

Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,

Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.

Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,

Yours are the eyes, you are his body.

Christ has no body now but yours, No hands, no feet on earth but yours,

Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Amen

[1] The Power of Disorder: Ritual Elements in Mark’s Passion Narrative by Nicole Wilkinson Duran