Note to Readers:
I am a liberal Protestant Christian. I am a retired pastor and a theologian. What I write in my religious reflections is Christian. This post is a Christian document written primarily for Christians, but also for those of other faiths who have an interest in Christian thinking, and for those who may be exploring the possibility of faith.
I hope that those whose faith is not Christian and those who may be exploring faith options will have a better understanding of the importance of the Cross to Christians. Nothing I write is intended to proselytize my faith, nor is it to condemn anyone's faith, or lack of faith.
This post is not the place to debate the validity of religion or faith or belief.
Several of you have encouraged me to do a series of Lenten reflections. Ash Wednesday, which this year is February 25, is the beginning of the season of Lent, a time for reflection, repentance, and introspection within the Christian community. Lent lasts for 40 days, excluding Sundays, and culminates on Holy Saturday, the day before Easter.
This pre-Lenten reflection is to lay out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. However, even within Christianity there is no unanimity on what are essential beliefs and what are not essential. I will not argue any of that here. What is laid out here are some of my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith.
We begin this reflection at the foot of the Cross upon which Christ is crucified. We are listening. Most Christians have been here many times before, but we come back now to explore an aspect of this poignant scene that is crucial to understanding why there is a season of Lent at all.
St. Luke tells us:
One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other one rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?" [23:39-40]
Before this scene at the Cross, Jesus has been driven with whips, carrying the instrument of his own death on his scared back, struggling up the dirty hill outside Jerusalem which serves as the city garbage dump, in utter agony, and then has been nailed to the Cross which has been raised as a barren tree on which he hangs.
There is something utterly, painfully earthly and totally unnerving about Luke's description of the crucifixion because, however some Christians might want to pretty it up, it is nothing less than the painful picture of the death of God's own Son, hanging from a tree like a common criminal!
If you contrast this scene with later descriptions of who Jesus is, the difference is startling in its clarity. As Christianity moved further and further from the recording of eye witness accounts of Jesus' death a "higher," more theological, description of who Jesus is began to emerge.
For example, St. Paul, in his Letter to the Colossians (Col 1:15-19) says of Jesus:
"He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers -- all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together."... "For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his Cross."
Paul's picture of Jesus is one of the highest, most holy images of Christ as the powerful ruler of all creation that one can imagine. And Christians believe that it is absolutely true.
Compare this with Luke’s gut wrenching picture of a bruised and battered man hanging on a Cross between two convicted criminals. Can there be a more stark contrast? Yet, as a Christian, I say that this picture is also absolutely true.
Can you begin to sense the paradox, the stark contrast between the very human Jesus in Luke's Gospel and the gloriously and powerfully divine Jesus portrayed by Paul? Can you feel the painful, bewildering irony of the crucifixion when one comes to believe that both descriptions are true?
Both writers are talking about God here! Paul calls Jesus the very "image of the invisible God." The Jesus Paul is talking about is the One hanging there on the Cross, being ridiculed by hypocrites, power mongers and thieves.
All the power, the might, the majesty, and the glory of God is hanging there: being spit upon, a sword thrust into his side, humiliated, left to die one of the cruelest deaths man could conceive at that time and place.
And what is the response of the One in whom Paul says all things in the universe are held together? Of the one whom St. John says was there from the beginning, from whom all things came into being; the one John says literally gave us life?
Since he has all this power, does he smash them with a sword of terrible vengeance? Does he unleash the fury of Michael, the archangel, and his host of heavenly warriors? No. Rather, he says, "Father forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." (Luke 23:34)
And what is their response to that? They shout more insults! What does it take to get through to them? How low must Jesus go to prove he loves them?
How low must God go to prove that God loves you? That is the question this text poses to us. God went as low as the Cross, and only one person on earth understood it that day, a simple thief hanging on a cross beside Jesus.
We need to get a clear mental picture of that scene: three crosses, Jesus in the middle, a thief on either side. When we have that mental picture before us, can we see God saying, with outstretched arms, “I love you this much!”? Can we see that there are no depths to which God will not sink to offer us the gift of divine love and grace?
One of the best explanations of the meaning of the Cross comes from William Barclay, the great writer of Bible commentaries for ordinary people, who seldom spoke of the Cross in terms of atonement for our sins, although he knew that was one reason for the Cross. But, for Barclay atonement was not enough. For Barclay, the forgiveness of our sins was not enough to describe what Jesus did for us on the Cross.
For him, and for me, the Cross was the ultimate sign of God's complete and unequivocal love for us. Barclay said that God was saying to each of us, "Nothing you do can make me not love you. You can disappoint me, break my heart and grieve my Spirit, you can spit on me, scourge me, beat me, ridicule me, and even kill me -- but you can not make me stop loving you. See that Cross? I love you like that!"
In the 8th chapter of Mark, Jesus asks the disciples, "But what about you? Who do you say I am?" (v. 29) Each of the synoptic Gospels records this question.
The Cross can help us answer that question. And that question is vital to understanding Christian faith. In the final analysis, it doesn’t matter to you what anyone else's view of Jesus is. Whether it is the thief on the Cross who believed him or the other who did not; the Pharisee on the sidelines or the soldier at the foot of the Cross; your best friend or your worst enemy, your Sunday School teacher, the bartender down at the corner tavern, or even your Pastor.
All that matters in the end is how each individual answers the question that has echoed down through the centuries, asked by Christ to generation upon generation of seekers: "But what about you? Who do you say I am?"
There is only one way for an orthodox Christian to answer that question. When a seeker comes to me and talks about becoming a Christian that is the only question that I ever ask her or him. I don't ask them about the Bible, or about where they live or where they work, or what they did before they got there. I don't care what church they came from or if they have never set foot in a church in their life.
Often their honest answer to the question Jesus asks is "I don't know." And that is a good enough answer at that stage of their faith journey. Some never move beyond that stage, but most do. From my perspective an honest person who sincerely struggles with answering that question is in a far healthier spiritual place than one who gives the answer he or she is "supposed" to give and really doesn't believe it at all.
So it is with us. If we think that we really aren't quite sure of the answer to that fundamental question, then we can learn a bit more about the answer by spending a little time with the two thieves on the Cross. And, as we look at them keep in mind what we have already learned: that whatever else the Cross means, it means that God will do anything to prove to you that He loves you. He is saying to you, "See that Cross? I love you like that!"
The unrepentant thief asks Jesus, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" (v.39)
Although the question was rhetorical and sarcastic, it’s still an important one. If Jesus is simply a great teacher who has met an unfortunate end, then the story of the Cross is touching, but not truly relevant to Christian faith. In fact, there would be no Christian faith. Christians believe that Jesus was, in fact, a great teacher. But that is hardly the basis for worshiping him. It is hardly the basis for believing that he is the Son of God, God come down, Emmanuel, to save us from ourselves.
The irony of the unrepentant thief's question to a Christian, is, of course, that Christians believe that Jesus was, indeed, the Messiah -- but the man could not see it.
Yet, if He were not the Messiah, then how could he promise the other thief, "This day you will be with me in paradise?" Only the Messiah, a Messiah even greater than the one the Jews hoped for, or a deluded mad-man, would make such a rash promise.
There is no middle ground to be found here. Either Jesus is the Messiah, or he is not. And, if we decide that Jesus is, indeed, the Messiah, a Messiah capable of actually welcoming the repentant thief into paradise with him, what more might that tell us about a Messiah who is able to offer such a promise? Answering that question will get us to that next step in faith that has to be taken if we would claim to be a fully believing Christian.
To help us get to that next step we need to explore the question asked by the good thief to the one who continued to mock Jesus: "Do you not fear God?"
In other words, if this man should happen to truly be God's Messiah or more, have you no fear in continuing to hurl abuse at him? Luke records no response from the unrepentant thief, but leaves it that, even at the outer limits of his mortal existence, this man has no room for the possibility of God working in the life of Jesus!
How do we know this? Because of the words Luke uses. Luke’s account of the conversation between the criminals and Jesus is unique. The words, "kept deriding him" translate the word "blasphemeo" in Greek. The intensity of feeling in that word is immensely strong. In koine Greek it means to speak evil, revile, defame or vilify God.
The man is hanging on a Cross knowing he’s going to die but still he is blaspheming God. Even if Jesus is the Messiah, if Jesus is "of God," he is not someone this thief has time for. The thief is in deep pain and anger with a soul closed to the possibility of God, much less redemption.
That’s a scary place to be. This poor, pitiful man is locked in a prison of absolute loneliness. There is no room in his heart even for even the fear of God. And, therefore, there is no room for hope.
This thief rejects Jesus. What does it mean to a Christian to reject the love Jesus displayed on the Cross? To reject Jesus' love is to reject the love of God.
The other thief chose not to reject that love. Hanging from his own cross that thief made his choice: "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom." (Luke 23:42)
So how does Jesus respond to this thief? This man is a justly convicted felon, who was guilty of his crimes, but he has chosen to fear God in these final moments, and most importantly, he has chosen to believe that Jesus is indeed the Messiah of God. And the response of God to his deepest need is instantaneous. Jesus says, "Today, you will be with me in paradise."
Luke's story shows us the very radically different decisions that two thieves made. It tells us that one rejects the Messiah, the Son of God, while the other asks to be remembered in Jesus' Kingdom. And Jesus promises that second thief that he would, that very day, be with him in paradise. Christians believe that only the Christ, the Son of God, could have made that offer.
That is how looking at the two thieves helps us to understand just who this Jesus is who could offer to the one who only asked to be remembered the gift of paradise. It can provide us with insight about how to answer Jesus' most important question to all of us.
When Jesus asks, "And you, who do you say that I am?" he is asking the ultimate question of Christian faith. The answer of the repentant thief is consistent with the clearest answer to that question found in the Gospels.
St. Peter, speaking for himself and all of the disciples in the 16th chapter of Matthew, says it clearly and succinctly: "You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God." (verse 16)
It is that belief that causes Christians to gather each Lent at the foot of the Cross, to strengthen and renew their faith in the One who offers peace, salvation and eternal life to those who believe that he is their Lord and Savior, God come down, Emmanuel. Jesus, the Christ, is the One who says, in Barclay's words, "Nothing you do can make me not love you. See that Cross? I love you like that!"
May the coming Season of Lent bring to each Christian a clear sense of what the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross means, and may it also be a time of introspection, looking into our own lives and reflecting on what we might do that will help us turn ourselves back toward God.
I hope that those whose faith is not Christian but have joined in the reading of this reflection have a better idea why the Cross is so important in the lives of those who follow Christ.
And I ask all Christians who have read this reflection to always remember that Christ did not die upon the Cross out of love for only Christians, for there were no Christians then, but he died that all might know the love of God for all.
Monte
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Comments
Have you read Jorge Luis Borges short-short story about what the world lost when the last man who had seen Christ in the flesh died? (I forget the name of it and unfortunately I can't find my copy in this messy apartment, but it's in Borges "Collected Fictions."
Hugs and Paws!
Thanks, also, Smama. I appreciate your interest in these Reflections.
Miko: you are such a good reader of all of my posts and I am always grateful.
Monte
There are actually two Borges "fictions" that reference this man--"The Witness" and "Paradiso, XXXI, 108". Both are in the 1998 edition of "Collected Fictions" trans. by Andrew Hurley.
But seriously, thank you for reminding us all what this upcoming season is all about.
In answer to your question that was probably asked rhetorically:
I think Jesus was here to show us that, though we might live in the world, we should, every day, renew ourselves and do whatever we can to ensure that the world doesn't live in us.
We have to eat, but we don't have to obsess about the food network or having the perfect kitchen.
We have to go to work and earn a living, but we should not become our job.
And so on...
Live, think, define yourself and be yourself, don't let someone else do it for you.
I always enjoy this knowledge an/or addendum to what I already know, believe, or think I know about.
Thank You
Leeandra; thanks so much for that exact reference. We have an excellent inter-library loan system that covers all libraries in Ohio. I will order it tomorrow.
E of C: what an interesting nom de plume! I think it always helps when one does what you have done and comes to a personal understanding of what Jesus means to you. I especially resonate with this that you said:
"I think Jesus was here to show us that, though we might live in the world, we should, every day, renew ourselves and do whatever we can to ensure that the world doesn't live in us.
That is a beautiful way to say something similar to what I see in the Biblical mandate to be "in, but not of, the world." Thanks for your insights.
Monte
Monte
I don't share your faith, but I appreciate your expression of it. Thank you for this. At some point, I'll have questions, but I'll save them for now.
Lorraine
I have never been one to push my faith on anyone else. Probably because I took a long time myself coming to the place I am, and when people tried to push me I resented it enormously. Faith is ultimately a very personal thing. And that fact needs to be honored.
dcv: thanks for reading and commenting. I do try to enlighten about some of the details of my faith and the stories that ultimately lead me to it.
The centrality of the Cross to Christianity often is not known even to Christians. For anybody trying to understand Christianity I think it is vital that they understand it. They need not agree with it, but they will only have a piece of the Christian puzzle if they do not focus on the importance of the Cross to Christianity.
Thank you both.
Monte
Rated (bien sur)
I had never given these questions a second thought. Nor had I understood the meaning of these "See that Cross? I love you like that!" until I read this post. So much of our faith is handed to us when we are children attending Sunday school that we don't question it. At this stage of my life (long past Sunday school) it's good to question and understand these large concepts with more maturity. You have given me a fine spiritual meal to digest. Thank you for inviting me to the table. I look forward to spending Lent with you, Monte.
COS: I am very grateful for your comment. What you wrote is precisely why I am writing this series. I want to take the mystery out of the theology and the myth out of the Sunday School information and strive for a solid, understandable explanation of the basics of the faith. Then people can make their own minds up based on information which is neither hyperbole nor doctrinal demands that we "must" believe. I do believe that there are things that I must believe. But if others believe what I do that should come from their hearts and heads, not mine.
Monte
Then our pastor left and we got an interim. Appalled by UCC corporate in Cleveland, I stayed on to protect e the church from her administrative evil ---in a leadership role---from the value placed on process over spiritual engagment.
One year, she cancelled good friday services because it was snowing and she didn't feel like making the trip in from the suburbs to Chicago. Stuff like that.
Now the interim is gone---and politics brought a nice guy into lead----but the engagement with the Message isn't there.
I can feel the dustance growing wider.
One of the resasons I love the Moravian's is there complete and total lack of hard sell. (Portrayed beautifully in the disclaimer you put at the front of this. That is a Moravian message. Not a "God is still speaking message" (although Ron Buford is a brilliant guy and I'm sorry he is no longer at UCC corporate)
So here's my question---what happens when your church stops being the community of outsiders exemplified by the Moravians---and starts becoming a branch office of UCC corporate?
What's next?
I wish you taught Sunday School when I was a kid attending Holy Trinity. I probably wouldn't have skipped out to feed the horses in the stables behind the church.
The irony of it is that in the UCC in the more small town and rural churches where I have served (Ottawa, Illinois being the biggest town I served in) were much more conservative than I was and were itching to abort the UCC and go on their own. It sounds like just the opposite has happened in your church.
I left the Northern Illinois Conference, UCC, in 1997 so I don't know the current church politics there. But the NoIl Conf. has always been in turmoil about one thing or the other. As far as the national UCC in Cleveland is concerned I think it is beyond repair. I wont' go into it now, but it is a damned mess.
Specific to your question: My first instinct, both as a layman for 30 adult years in the Episcopal Church, and as both a UCC ordained pastor and for the last five years of my ministry an appointed Moravian pastor, is to work from within as long as you can stand it.
But there does come a time where if you do not feel engaged with the basic message of the faith, and if you have sat down with the Pastor who does not either understand what you are talking about or doesn't seem to care, then rather than be miserable and feel your faith slipping away, it is time for more drastic measures. It is time to consider finding a church that offers what you believe you need in a church.
Sometimes that decision can be very painful because you have made friends, have devoted a lot of time and treasure and talent to the church that you are in. Leaving that behind can even cause a sense of grief. So, if you and your wife decide to do that please be prepared for some stronger emotional results than you might expect.
If you do that I really do not think that denominational boundaries make all that much difference if you stay within the more liberal mainstream denominations which will all feel pretty much the same as to liturgy, except the Episcopal Church which has a higher liturgy, but is quite liberal.
But just about any UCC, ELCA, Disciples of Christ, Reformed Church in America, most Methodist, and many Presbyterian churches, USA, are possible places where you might find what you are looking for. And the only way to find that out is to go to the church a few times, and if it seems promising, ask to sit down with the Pastor and honestly tell him/her why you are searching and what you missed in the church you left.
If you want to discuss this in more detail, please send me a PM or email me at montecan@roadrunner.com. We can talk on the phone if you would rather. Just email me first and give me a number.
Whatever you decide it will not be easy. But you two should feel comfortable in church, believe that you are hearing the Message and believe that you are in a place of true sanctuary.
Christians tend to forget that we are a remnant group of folk who live here and try to make it better, but we were never expected to create Christendom or be the most popular kids on the block. We are to model the Kingdom of God as best we can while we are here, until we are called to be in the closer presence of the Lord.
We do that much better when we are not full of ourselves. ;-)
God bless,
Monte
Thanks again.
Monte
For those of us who believe, it's an important subject, whether we remain churched or unchurched. Just collecting the testimonies of disillusioned (unrealistic? idealistic?) believers would be a strong contribution to OS, not to mention the testimony of former and never believers.
I have no problem with the kind of discussion that you suggest. I don't want to do it in the context of this Lenten series, as you surmise. I want this series to lay out some fundamentals and avoid the kind of very disrespectful and acidic comments that occurred with my last two Reflections. I will not allow further attacks on the basic right to have a faith again on this blog.
Now, I agree that the issue you raise is important and would encourage you to write a post on your blog. I think there are likely some responses to it that you may not expect. Please send me a PM if you want my ideas about this issue in more detail.
Monte
Monte
First--"Christians tend to forget that we are a remnant group of folk who live here and try to make it better, " That's exactly what we've forgotten in our church. Even when the focus is away from us---it's a thin veil for a focus on us. For example: "Look how much money WE raised for Heifer"
Second--the reminder that our story is not unique. One of the things I appreciate most about being Christian is that in being part of the larger Christian story---NO story is unique.
Third, your insight into the whole process of leaving or not leaving is totally on target. And confirming my thoughts on the state of politics helped a lot.
I know that we'll stay where we are thru Lent and Easter. And I've gotten myself out of any leadership roles---that's another problem, I became way too much of a defacto leader when the pastor left, in trying to hold things together---and it's time to stop doing that. and I'll look for ways to look outward from the church and not inward to the politics.
And I will print out your response so it will be there when my wife and I need to be reminded that God does give us what we need.
Thank you for this. Thank you so much.
Roger
Mike, thanks for reading. Regardless of how religious you are it feels good to know that you enjoy these Reflections and get something out of them. I really appreciate that.
Monte
Remember that the offer for further conversation as you struggle with this issue still stands. By PM, by regular email, and later by phone are all available.
Don't the two of you ever think that you have to do this alone without some help from your friends, even internet ones like me.
Monte
I find his request eminently reasonable. Flex those superpowers, man, or why have them? If you must die to make a statement, can't you save the two people on either side, at least?
Okay, so Jesus didn't do anything about it. I still think the bad guy wasn't excluded from a decent hereafter just because he asked to be saved from one of the most lingering and excruciating deaths ever devised by man. Sheesh, I think of stuff I said when I was in the midst of three natural childbirths. I sure don't want that held against me.
I have to say the good little thief always struck me as a dubious character. I'll bet he ratted on the other thief, and then decided to suck up to Jesus.
You just never know about people.
"The love of God for all" is central to the faith of practitioners of a variety of different religious traditions. If we would all remember it, we would be more respectful of one another and the world would be a far more peaceful place.
In your case you find that "bad" thief as possibly someone on that cross who may not have actually been guilty at all, and you remember analogous situations in your own life where you would not want to be judged by what you felt, did, or said under that kind of pain. All of that is understandable and reasonable.
The only reason I can not go there with you is that the stylized reporting of this scene in the Gospels is basically a metaphor, a reconstruction, which sets up a black and white contrast between the two thieves to make a point: to reject Christ is to reject God.
None of the writers of the Gospels were likely anywhere near the Cross to remember these words. All of them were writing largely from two sources: some eye witness reports and mostly the oral tradition of their communities that was passed down between the death of Jesus and the time of the writing of the Gospels, all of which were written no sooner than 20 to 40 years after Jesus' death. And John's Gospel was written much later than that.
So what we are reading has already been "interpreted" by believers before the Gospel writers decided to record it, because, as Luke so honestly says in the beginning of his Gospel, many were writing what they remembered and Luke decided to try his hand at writing the story of Jesus based on those memories, and to clear out some of the underbrush and provide a relatively clear, flowing story.
Nothing in the Gospels says what happened to the "unrepentant" thief. I certainly don't know and would never say that he went to hell or anything like that. Luke's point, shared by the other synoptic Gospels is that it is dangerous to reject Christ because Christ is God incarnate. John, writing much later, does not even mention the thieves crucified next to Jesus.
If we take the Gospel stories of Jesus as narrative fact, in the literal, historic sense, we are in for a lot of heartburn. They were never written as history and never claimed to be. They were documents written by believers for believers.
They were kerygma, proclamation, not history. They told the story through the hermeneutic of their communities, and those lenses are quite different when we read the four Gospels. They are not reconcilable as "fact," and when they have tried to homogenize them the results are particularly silly.
So I appreciate your point of view, but it will not tell you much about the faith that developed after the death of Jesus. The writing clearly indicates that as the years after his death wore on, the proclamation, the kerygma, of the growing Christian communities is reflected in the Gospels.
In other words, the Jesus of the Bible is not in any meaningful sense the Jesus of history, whoever that was or is. The same thing is true when we look at any "historical" figure or event, even when the writer today swears up and down that he or she has finally got the definitive "true" story of who this or that person really was.
A hero is a hero in part because of the stories that grew up about him or her. Seldom, and I would argue, never, even in the most careful of histories, is the "real' person who lived accurately portrayed even in alleged histories. cf Joan of Ark or Alexander the Great, or any major extra Biblical person.
So it is even less likely that the Gospels, which never claimed to be history, are an accurate historical representation. They are proclamation, statements of faith. They cannot never be "proven" and I find it embarrassing when Christian scholars who should know better pass the Gospels off as literal fact. It gives both intelligent inquiry and the Christian faith a bad name.
Monte
Monte
I absolutely love how much thought you've put into this brilliant piece. I sometimes forget how hard it is to talk objectively about something you believe with all your heart to be true, but cannot prove.
It's incredibly hard. And you pull it off so well Monte.
Me, I'm a Luke girl myself with an utter distaste for Paul (which is probably the consensus with women).
Let me also say it's hard touch me in that warm fuzzy way with religious discussion, but this piece gave me chills.
Excellent read, excellent thoughts, and excellent presentation.
I'd really like to know where your EP is.
rated.
Monte
Took me a while to get the lingo too.
Now, what was I trying to remember again?
;-)
Monte