Homily for Good Friday 2006

I read a wonderful meditation on the cross by Anglican Archbishop, Rowan Williams. Some of what I say comes from his thought. There were numerous crosses in Jesus' day. Crucifixion was a particular form of torture and execution used by the Romans to emphasise who was King. There were literally hundreds of crosses bordering the roads of Roman occupied countries.

There are numerous crosses in our day as well. They adorn countless churches both inside and out. They are spread across cemeteries in their thousands and are often worn as a token of devotion or fashion accessory. But there is an enormous difference between crosses now and when Jesus was executed.

In Jesus time the cross had nothing to do with religion. Far from it. It was the antithesis of religion. It was an instrument of torture a symbol of evil. Now, although it is a domesticated image, it is a deeply significant symbol of faith in a crucified redeemer.

We are very familiar with Jesus' words to “Take up our cross daily and follow him.” I suppose, for most of us, it means putting up with daily inconveniences. Sometimes it means facing up to and dealing with very difficult situation such as sickness. Yet even this does not capture completely Jesus' meaning. We need to be reminded again what to be crucified meant for a first century Jew like Jesus.

The victim was crucified outside the city. Thieves, murders, freedom fighters, rebels, petty criminals, runaway slaves, some innocent victims like Jesus, critics of the Roman regime; all were stripped and put up on show for everyone to see the indignity and the pain of their death. This was Caesar saying, “I am King. You are a nobody. You are not a citizen of Rome. You have no rights. You have nothing to say to me.” This was indeed a form of state terrorism.

Where is Jesus to be found? He is to be found there too. St John's Passion account captures and plays upon the irony of the situation. Pilate claims power of life and death yet, in fact, he has nothing (John 19:10). Jesus, who really has no power, is the Lord of life. Jesus identifies with the powerless, the voiceless, the abused and ridiculed. Criminals they might have been, as one of the thieves on the cross admitted, but that is always were Jesus is to be found, seeking out the lost.

So to take up one's cross means to go where Jesus goes. It means risking being a nobody in this world to be with those how are lost. I means being powerless in the face of terror and violence of all kinds. It means sometimes, like Jesus himself, to be afraid of what might happen. It means one might doubt at the depths of one's being that all one's effort might be in vain. Jesus experienced that struggle in the garden of Gethsemane. He experienced that desolation on the cross. So Jesus' kingdom is not of Pilate's world (John 18:36).

I heard on the radio program Big Ideas a talk by a UN envoy for AIDS to Africa, Stephen Lewis, speaking about the horror there. In one country, 23% of the population are orphans. Orphans to AIDS mainly. This is repeated in country after country in that continent. The head of those households are children as young as 8 who have watched and cared for their parents as they died. They have no one to teach them how to live. No one to hand on to them the customs, the values, the home to which children are entitled. There are no adults to tend the flocks and fields so famine spreads. People are too weak from hunger to be able even to take medication for AIDS if it were available. Developed nations insisted that such countries perform economically according to Western standards. So public spending on health and education were slashed so debts could be paid. Now there is little infrastructure to deal with the crisis.

We can easily watch horrific events like that at arms length on TV or whatever and think how stupid people are for living in a way that spreads that disease. But we do not really know what it is like to live there. There is often little many of us can do about those events. Yet I am sure I know were Jesus would choose to be.

“Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom”. We make the good thief's prayer our own and hear Jesus' wonderful reply: “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” There is no person who is irredeemable by Christ's death. It is our own fear alone that prevents us from welcoming and receiving the love of Christ for us. Our fear that we are a nobody; that we are not citizens of the Kingdom; that our failures are too great to be overcome because we have tried again and again to change and have failed.

Jesus wrestled with the temptation to give up throughout his ministry. His family doubted his sanity at times. His closest disciples misunderstood him and tried to divert him at times. The popularity of the crowds for him was not what he sought. It seemed a futile exercise this mission of his. When at the last his friends deserted him it must have all seemed a dismal failure. Even then, however, he continued his mission. “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” His unshakable awareness of the Father's love carried him through. We can begin today perhaps by recalling all those who have hurt us, and pray like Jesus. “I forgive you.”

The second thing I draw to you attention this Good Friday is Jesus words to his mother Mary and John. “Woman here is your son.” “Here is your mother.” In the midst of his pain. Just before he breathes his last Jesus thoughts are with his disciples. Mary and John are sharing the painful vigil. They are focused on him in his suffering. Mary grieving for her son as only a mother knows. John, the beloved disciple, losing a very dear friend. Their grief is real.

Yet what does Jesus do? He directs their gaze away from himself towards each other. Look at each other he says. Behold your mother, behold your son. There is now a new family. New responsibilities. A new kind of relationship that surpasses all others in faith. There is now what Paul would come to describe as the Body of Christ, the Church.

So many people reject religions and the churches. They prefer a spirituality that connects them directly with God or to the depths within themselves. Many see the Churches as corrupt, hypocritical, and obstacles to growth in love of God. There is of course some truth in that. But the scandal of Christianity is that Christ directs our gaze away from himself as Lord, and towards each other as the way to God. It is a real cross to bear that we have to take each other seriously as brother and sisters of Christ. Christians do not walk away from each other. So we gather to hear the Word and share at the Eucharist. If Mary is the mother of all disciples then the her children are important.

Fr Graham