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Saturday 7 April 2012

Were you there? A Good Friday reflection


(Sung) Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
            Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
            Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble,
            Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there?

Not many were at the end. Some women, one of his friends. Perhaps the rest all finally understood where all this Kingdom of God stuff was going. And how it could be their turn to be arrested next. They were frightened. Disappointed. Wracked with guilt by their betrayal, cowardice or denial. They finally got it – following Jesus was not going to make them popular. It was even going to be dangerous. So they left.
But didn’t he tell them that whoever followed him was going to face insult, persecution, opposition from their own families, never mind the religious authorities? Didn’t he say that if you wanted to follow him you had to take up your own cross? If you were there, you could now see exactly how that might work out. I’m not surprised that so many left the scene.
Following Jesus, living in the Kingdom of God means standing up for the weakest and the voiceless. The poor, and sick, certainly, but how about the asylum seekers. The prisoners. The drug addicts, the trafficked sex-workers. You can just see how much trouble that lot could get you into. Do we still run away from it all?

Were you there?

Were you there?

Was it you who stood at the foot of the cross? Your true self, I mean. Not the one we put on for others. But the self we don’t need to put on before God. Or, even at the foot of the cross where all is laid bare, the depths of human fear, hatred and cruelty are exposed, are you hiding behind a mask of respectability? Perhaps frightened to drop the mask – if I reveal my true self, if people knew what I was really like, they would hate me.
And yet, at the cross we find acceptance of our true self. The you that you hide is there accepted by Jesus as he opens wide those everlasting arms of love. The you that you yourself don’t much like is forgiven, redeemed and transformed. But you need to know that God loves you imperfect as you are in order for the transformative love to take effect. If we are forever hiding behind our mask of respectability, even at the foot of the cross, then we will never fully grasp the possibility of abundant life that Jesus offers. Last night we heard that unless we are washed by Jesus we have no part in him. And how can he wash that which we do not show?

Were you there?

Were you there?

Really there, I mean. Did you see that ruined body, a man in his prime bloody and beaten from wounds that might kill him anyway staggering through the streets carrying a huge piece of wood? Were you there as he was first laid down, then nailed down, then hoisted up? Were you there as the nails were driven through flesh to find wood? Did you hear, see and smell the agony of slow suffocation? Did you hear the mocking voices? See the utter humiliation, degradation, not to mention the agonising pain? The physical pain of the cruellest of deaths, and the emotional pain of abandonment and desolation.
Yet, were you there to hear his words? Words creating a new family. Words expressing a human need. Words of accomplishment. Were you there to hear those words– the smallest hint of hope for the future, of life beyond this dark day. But perhaps for you lost in the unspeakable horror of it all until afterwards.

Were you there?

Were you there?
We were all there. Whether we like it or not, we were all there. Every wrong thing we’ve done, every kind thing left undone, every cruel or mocking word we’ve ever said, every time we held back praise, affirmation or kindness. They were all there.
And so were we.
The worst parts of our humanity. Made clean by this terrible death. The inexplicable wonder of God nailed to a cross, taking all the world’s hurts and pain on himself.

We were all there.

(Sung) Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
            Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble,
            Were you there when they crucified my Lord?