Why Did He Have to Die?
Tonight is a night for remembering. Not the kind
of remembering that we do when someone asks for our Social Security
number or where we put the car keys or even to name the books of the
Bible. That is recalling facts that might be useful.
Nor is it the kind of active remembering we do when we think of the
birth of a child the death of a loved one and recall our feelings from
that event as best we can.
No, tonight is to remember by actively entering into again, by placing
ourselves in the midst of the night when the first hours of the death
of Jesus on the cross were ticking by with a painful slowness that only
a traumatic experience can produce.
Just
as we walked the Way of the Cross at noon today, entering vicariously
the experience of the trauma, the shame, the ignominy of Jesus’
condemnation through the images of the fourteen Stations of the Cross,
so tonight is a night for darkness and quiet and reflection. It
is a night for images and sounds and touching our deepest
feelings. Even as we enter and leave in silence, lights unlit,
the quiet weeping of loss and guilt and grief associated with death
infuses our time together with the haunting sense of being a part of
the deepest mystery of life.
How many times have I walked into the hospital room to meet with a
patient or a loved one who has just lost their child or parent or
partner and heard the question, “Why?”
Picture the disciples, some perhaps now regathered in a secret room,
along with others of Jesus’ friends and family on this sorrowful
night. His body in the borrowed tomb, only partially cared for as
it should have been. But the suddenness and horror of it
all. And echoing through every heart, the question of the ages,
From the earliest days of the Christian Church, the question of why has
permeated the underlying issues of the nature of Jesus Christ.
How could man kill God? The implications and theological
reflections on this question reverberate to this day and tonight is not
a night for that type of study. Rather, let us simply reflect and
let those feelings touch us in the depths of our hearts.
It was old Athanasius, the bishop whom Edie mentioned on Sunday that
offered an answer to the question of why Jesus had to die – and on a
cross at that – many hundreds of years ago. In order to answer
the question, he had to go back to creation itself. When God
separated light from dark, when he spoke existence into being from
non-existence. But to create human, it took something more than a
word – it took the very breath of God.
Infused with Spirit, the life force, that which was dirt became
life. Human meant a perfect created being with place and position
– in Paradise, with a child-like relationship of innocence and
obedience with the Father. But in a simple act of disobedience,
what was brought into existence died – and leaving the road of
existence, of place and position in God – men and women turned toward
darkness, toward non-existence.
To escape the inevitable slide into darkness, God offered worship,
prophets, and laws, and finally, his very Son. Hear the words of
Athanasius:
For by the sacrifice of his own body he did two things:
· he put an end to the law of death which barred our way; and
· he made a new beginning of life for us, by giving us the hope of resurrection.
-- (On the Incarnation [2.10], St. Athanasius)
But why the Cross? There are many answers – valid answers – that one could give but let me mention two tonight.
First the cross was necessarily violent. The cross reveals our
complicity in violence. And it goes beyond the obvious forms of
violence – murder, war, vengeance – to the more subtle ways in which we
participate in violence by our judging and unforgiving spirit. It
highlights our use of violence as an answer to violence.
Christians don't have a good track record when it comes to killing in
the name of the cross. The cross shows us that God is love, but
the cross also shows us something about ourselves. What we resist
seeing precisely what the cross is -- not just violence, but an act of
righteous violence.
Those who killed Jesus saw it as an act of justice, following the
law. God wanted them to kill blasphemers, put evil to the
sword. As someone has said, “When Christians through the ages …
have killed Jews, they justified themselves by pointing to the violence
that the Jews did against Jesus. They did not see killing the
Jews as violence; they saw it as purging evil. They failed to see the
Passion for what it is: Jesus, himself a Jew, was willing to let
himself be killed so we might see our human problem with righteous
violence. The point of the cross is to reveal the problem we have
with righteous violence.” When we criticize, reject, demean, and
judge others we negate the message of the love of God for all who are
created in God’s image and called to life in him.
The cross is our violence meeting God's unconditional love,
forgiveness, and the power of life. The cross is the answer we
need to finally live with God's power of love and life, the answer we
need to finally let God lead us into the way of true peace.
There is another aspect of Jesus’ death on the Cross that is for me, most powerful. We hear it in Eucharistic Prayer A:
He stretched out his arms upon the cross, and
offered himself, in obedience to your will, a perfect sacrifice for the
whole world.
It was this same image perhaps that moved Athanasius. Again, hear his words:
How could he have called us if he had not been
crucified, for it is only on the cross that a man dies with arms
outstretched? Here, again, we see the fitness of His death and of
those outstretched arms: it was that he might draw his ancient people
with the one and the Gentiles with the other, and join both together in
Himself. Even so, He foretold the manner of His redeeming death,
"I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Myself."
-- (On the Incarnation [4.25], St. Athanasius)
Why did Jesus die? To open for us a door to life – of
place and position – in God’s Kingdom as friends of his Son, the
Christ. To bring salvation, the great reversal. And how are we to
respond?
In confession – in owning our tendency to violence, in recognizing and
admitting our need for a new beginning. In repentance – a turning
around, in moving from darkness to light, from chaos to creation, from
non-existence to existence. And finally, we respond by simply
falling into the outstretched arms of Jesus.
As the darkness of that Friday night so long ago deepened the sorrow,
shame, and fear of Jesus’ follower, family, and friends, so it
hopefully gave them the space to let the image of his death on that
cross begin to do its work to prepare them for the greater truth of the
dawning which would soon arrive.
Tonight we sit in the darkening hours of Good Friday but we know that
Easter is on its way. May the image of the cross prepare us for
the experience of Resurrection.
The Rev. John Dryden Burton
Good Friday 2008
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