 | The New England Church PulpitNew England Congregational Church UCC |
"THE CROOKED CROSS" | Mark 8.31-38 | March 16, 2003 |
The cross has been a symbol of the church for two millennia. It is a symbol of triumph, a symbol of hope that life is not overcome by death. The cross is not something God planned for Jesus or sent Jesus to die upon. The cross was a tool of death and punishment of the Roman government in the 1st century, and Jesus, being the political upstart that he was, found himself faced with the dilemma of backing down from his stance that God was a God of love for everyone and everything in the world, or facing the consequences on the cross. He chose not to run away, and the rest, as they say, is history. He could have skipped town, he could have run into the hills to escape, but he chose to die for what he believed to be truth.
When Jesus began to see the course of action he must take, his followers, particularly Peter, had second thoughts about the purpose of their little group of disciples. After all, Jesus had not written a mission statement for the disciples, nor had he set forth goals and objectives for them to follow. He simply said, “Follow me.” That was fine until he mentions, in passing, that he’s choosing to die rather than fight, and says, “follow me.” Now what do they do?
Peter objects. He rebukes Jesus for talking this way, and thinking irrationally. “This isn’t what God’s power is about….giving up”, he says. “This isn’t the marking of a Messiah…acquiescing to political power. This isn’t the quality of a leader…talking about dying.” Peter would have Jesus controlled by popular notions of how God’s power should behave. And what did Jesus say? Jesus rebuked Peter for his evil thoughts. ‘You do not know the ways of God,’ said Jesus. “You only know the way humans think and reason.’ And herein is the entire gospel in a nutshell, for this is the good news: God’s representative, this Jesus who has all power at his disposal, rejects a messiah’s temptation to undermine the fragile net of love relationships with forceful takeover. Jesus was not about to force his way upon anyone or any government because the good news is love and inclusion, not force or obligation.
Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s day, and when the good old saint brought Christianity to the Celtic and pagan world of Ireland, he was carrying the same cross Jesus carried. It was known as a ‘green conversion,’ not because of Ireland’s 40 shades of green, but rather because no blood was shed in the introduction of the Christian faith in Ireland. No one was forced to believe or accept; no one was asked to give up anything. The faith was integrated into the existing Celtic and even Druid traditions of the day. This was quite unlike most introductions of the Christian faith into other countries where bloodshed and takeover of native religions were the order of the day. One only need remember the slaughter of tens of thousands during the bloody crusades that for over a century forced the faith at the threat of death, all of this flaunting the cross as a tool of force and obligation. I guess that’s why I like celebrating St. Pat’s day as much as any holiday.
When Jesus said ‘take up your cross, tip it a bit to fit your own shoulder, and follow me,’ it had more to do with spirit-accompanied companionship than behavioral obligations. We have distorted the faith when we’ve forced people into guilt of sin, or pressed them to deny themselves, and deny their worth, or deny their sensual experiences of life. The point of Jesus’ words ‘deny self, take up one’s cross, and follow’ is to affirm our full permanent worth already in God’s inalienable love. The ‘oughts’ and ‘shoulds’ that run us into the ground trying to measure up to God’s standards can now give way to relaxed confidence. This is the good news. Our worth is not in what we do, or what we refrain from doing, or what we achieve, or what we give or in what we give up. Our worth is not dependent on how we feel about ourselves or how others feel about us or treat us, or how we fit into the stereotypes of society. Self-worth is our heritage from God given to us from the beginning of time; Jesus’ words to ‘take up the cross and follow’, to tilt it toward our own journey, is affirmation of our already-existing self-worth. (Raymond Kemp Anderson, Lectionary Homiletics, Volume XIV, No. 2)
When Jesus healed the paralytic who had been confined to his mat on the public street begging for money and acceptance, he imposed no behavioral or ethical demands on the man before or after he healed him. All he said was ‘take up your mat and walk.’ Do you think that man thought of carrying his mat as a moral obligation, as something he ought to do, as payment for his good fortune? I certainly would think picking up that old mat on which he was confined for years would have been a delightful and freeing experience. Now he could carry that mat and walk proudly with it on his shoulder rather than beneath his feet because he was a free man.
Jesus says ‘pick up your cross and walk.’ People talk about the cross they have to bear because they have a handicap or because their spouse is an addict, or because they were born on the wrong side of the tracks. These are not crosses to bear; we all have handicaps of one sort or another, we’re all addicted to something if only the addiction to not being addicted. To take up one’s cross and follow is a matter of walking in companionship, walking the journey of life believing that who you are is a gift from God, a gift to God, to yourself, and to those around you. To ‘follow’ means tipping the cross a bit to carry it proudly on your shoulder as a sign of embracing yourself as you are, relaxing in the reality that there are no behavioral pre-conditions or post-conditions for God’s love. ‘Follow’, then, means to be liberated from the performance principle in favor of the joy of life that already exists inside us as a permanent gift of unconditional love and acceptance: no oughts or shoulds to earn or keep it, no need of having to prove yourself, or deny who you are or feel guilty about what you do or don’t do.
I finally decided that the Tiffany Rose window was crooked. When we had it releaded and set in new tracery a few years ago, the cross was straightened up. Aesthetically and artistically it is more pleasing now, but theologically I think the old crooked cross has something powerful to say. The cross is not a symbol of obligation to Jesus’ death but rather a symbol of our life, tipped to point to our freedom, crooked enough to be in solidarity with us as we are and who we can become in light of a holy love.
A Blessing of Solitude
May you recognize in your life the presence, power, and light of your soul.
May you realize that you are never alone, that your soul in its brightness and belonging connects you intimately with the rhythm of the universe.
May you have respect for your own individuality and difference.
May you realize that the shape of your soul is unique, that you have a special destiny here, that behind the façade of your life there is something beautiful, good, and eternal happening.
May you learn to see yourself with the same delight, pride, and expectation with which God sees you in every moment. (John O’Donohue, Anam Cara, p. 125)
This is the blessing of the crooked cross. Amen.
–Gary L. McCann
PASTORAL PRAYER
Creator of all life–of physical substance of existence, of energy, of humans of quarks of spirit of joy–we say offer our prayers in silence and with words to remind ourselves that the whole universe is yours. As part of this creation, we have been endowed with certain inalienable gifts of choice, reason, and feelings for the purpose of living faithfully on this earth and tending the garden of mind, of love, of friendship as well as the soil we walk upon.
We grieve that our freedom has resulted in our making a shambles of this world. Our greed and selfishness have trampled upon the earth, leaving behind dead bodies, twisted minds, and hatred of exploited and exploiters. We have rendered some of your creation extinct, and we have jeopardized many others because of our apathy.
Even now there are wars and rumors of wars, and hostages taken in the name of religion. There are those of us who are hostages to lies and evils that further the cause of injustice and brutality in the name of freedom. And though we believe you to be ultimately in charge, you have given us the freedom to choose how we will live, and often our choices are deadly.
As we journey through this lenten season, open our minds and spirits to the joy that can be tapped by friendships with others, even those with whom we disagree. Open our ears that we may hear beauty in our diverse world; open our eyes that we may see peace in our differences. Bless our nation, bless the nation of Iraq and instill within the hearts and minds of leaders of both countries the mission of peace, that the carnage of war will be averted that arms which would otherwise hold guns may hold each other as sisters and brothers of the same God and the same world.
To that end, we offer our words as reminder of our own commitment to peace in your name. Amen.
| Copyright © 2003 by Gary L. McCann. All rights reserved. |