Good Friday
Although I think it is customary to always read the passion narrative in John, I didn't have the energy to deal with his particular brand of anti-Semitism this year, and so read Mark instead: chapter 14, verse26 through to chapter 15, verse 47. Sections of the following reflection are direct quotes or paraphrases from Rebecca Parker/Rita Nakashima-Brock's fabulous book "Saving Paradise", pages 50-55.
Crucifixion was a horrible way to die. It was a common form of execution in the Roman empire, especially for political troublemakers, a warning to everyone else. Crosses were erected just outside the city, so that every time you went in or out, you had to go past them, brutally reminded of the punishment for causing trouble in the Roman Empire. Crucifixion was only practiced by the Romans - if Jesus had been condemned to death by the Jewish authorities, he would have been stoned.
It usually took days to die on a cross, slowly dying of suffocation and exposure. And the bodies were left there after death - it's why we have almost no archaeological evidence of crucifixions, because the bodies were left, and usually low enough to the ground that animals could scavenge the remains. And so not only would you live through the torment of seeing your family member or neighbour slowly suffer an excruciating death, but people were denied the comfort of collecting the body, and burying it. So it is so unusual that Joseph of Arimithea would receive permission to collect Jesus' body and place it in a tomb.
Crucifixion was shameful, terrifying, painful. And with the fear, and the absence of burial, it was like the person was erased from memory, too painful, and too dangerous to even mention by name.
So by telling the story of Jesus' crucifixion, the followers of Jesus and the early church engaged in an act of resistance - memory as an act of resistance, refusing to be so shamed and intimidated by the death of their leader so as to keep silent.
And yet, even with telling this story, the focus was not on death and suffering. For the first thousand years of the church there was no art depicting the cross. None. Not for a thousand years. Because instead, the art, and the church, focused on the risen Christ, and depicted him in a paradise setting, or during his ministry.
When we hear Jesus word's "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" - we are hearing a line from the 22nd psalm, and that insertion of text reminds us that this is not just any death, but one suffered at the hands of imperial power. And as in other psalms of lament, we hear the voice crying out to God; who will not abandon us in times of trouble.
"To lament is to claim powers that crucifixion was designed to destroy: dignity, courage, love, creativity and truth telling."
Who gets to tell the story matters. It matters that we hear the story of the crucifixion from the community whose leader was crucified. If we think back a few months to the earthquake in Haiti - do you remember the stories that talked about "looting"? Who is telling that story? I remember thinking - if that was me, and I was lucky enough to still have children or neighbours to look after, you can believe that I would be out looking for food and water. And that is a story of survival and courage, not of looting.
"Telling the story about Jesus' crucifixion has abiding importance. To break silence whenever violens is used to shame, instill fear, fragment human communities, or suppress those who advocate for justice is life-giving... Life is found in surviving the worst a community can imagine, in lamneting the consequences of imperialism, and in holding fast to the core goodness of this world, blessed by divine justice and abundant life."
I believe... that telling the story of the crucifixion would be important and life-giving even without the resurrection story to follow, because the re-telling itself is an act of resistance and community building.
While we don't want to live in the past, by telling our stories and memories we share our identity through generations of community. And it is important to share the memories of lament, not just the victories. We need to remember the residential schools as well as the gold medal hockey games.
Crucifixion was a horrible way to die. It was a common form of execution in the Roman empire, especially for political troublemakers, a warning to everyone else. Crosses were erected just outside the city, so that every time you went in or out, you had to go past them, brutally reminded of the punishment for causing trouble in the Roman Empire. Crucifixion was only practiced by the Romans - if Jesus had been condemned to death by the Jewish authorities, he would have been stoned.
It usually took days to die on a cross, slowly dying of suffocation and exposure. And the bodies were left there after death - it's why we have almost no archaeological evidence of crucifixions, because the bodies were left, and usually low enough to the ground that animals could scavenge the remains. And so not only would you live through the torment of seeing your family member or neighbour slowly suffer an excruciating death, but people were denied the comfort of collecting the body, and burying it. So it is so unusual that Joseph of Arimithea would receive permission to collect Jesus' body and place it in a tomb.
Crucifixion was shameful, terrifying, painful. And with the fear, and the absence of burial, it was like the person was erased from memory, too painful, and too dangerous to even mention by name.
So by telling the story of Jesus' crucifixion, the followers of Jesus and the early church engaged in an act of resistance - memory as an act of resistance, refusing to be so shamed and intimidated by the death of their leader so as to keep silent.
And yet, even with telling this story, the focus was not on death and suffering. For the first thousand years of the church there was no art depicting the cross. None. Not for a thousand years. Because instead, the art, and the church, focused on the risen Christ, and depicted him in a paradise setting, or during his ministry.
When we hear Jesus word's "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" - we are hearing a line from the 22nd psalm, and that insertion of text reminds us that this is not just any death, but one suffered at the hands of imperial power. And as in other psalms of lament, we hear the voice crying out to God; who will not abandon us in times of trouble.
"To lament is to claim powers that crucifixion was designed to destroy: dignity, courage, love, creativity and truth telling."
Who gets to tell the story matters. It matters that we hear the story of the crucifixion from the community whose leader was crucified. If we think back a few months to the earthquake in Haiti - do you remember the stories that talked about "looting"? Who is telling that story? I remember thinking - if that was me, and I was lucky enough to still have children or neighbours to look after, you can believe that I would be out looking for food and water. And that is a story of survival and courage, not of looting.
"Telling the story about Jesus' crucifixion has abiding importance. To break silence whenever violens is used to shame, instill fear, fragment human communities, or suppress those who advocate for justice is life-giving... Life is found in surviving the worst a community can imagine, in lamneting the consequences of imperialism, and in holding fast to the core goodness of this world, blessed by divine justice and abundant life."
I believe... that telling the story of the crucifixion would be important and life-giving even without the resurrection story to follow, because the re-telling itself is an act of resistance and community building.
While we don't want to live in the past, by telling our stories and memories we share our identity through generations of community. And it is important to share the memories of lament, not just the victories. We need to remember the residential schools as well as the gold medal hockey games.