Where You There When They Crucified My Lord?

A week ago, I participated in a Seder dinner offered by our local Rabbi, Robert Wolkoff.  He instructed us in this ancient Jewish ritual commemorating the Jews deliverance from slavery in Egypt.  The rabbi was emphatic that the meal wasn’t just a way to remember the story but to claim it as one’s own.  This was not something done long ago to someone else, this was done to me – both the oppression and God’s redemption.

The hymn cited above has always drawn me.  The haunting melody, the soul-bearing truth of the pain of loss. It calls us all to take our place in the story of Jesus Christ’s Passion.  It gives voice to the sad reality that is at the crux of our faith – Jesus, an innocent man, was murdered.  This hymn invites us to ponder on how complicit we are that act of violence.

It is true that no one alive today was physically present on that day in Jerusalem, but that does not absolve us of the crime.  As members of the Body of Christ and brothers and sisters to all humankind, someone we are related to was there in some way.  And human nature has a strange way of transcending time and distance.  We are selfish creatures unless we are taught and learn to be otherwise.  And, as we see with Peter, sometimes self-preservation gets in the way of our best intentions.

Yes, we are there when Jesus is crucified.  That is what the holy Triduum – the holy three days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday – are intended to do. We are given a place at the Last Supper table, a spot at the foot of the cross, and a feeling of impedance and restlessness on the day of rest when we know there is nothing we can do but wait.  

This is where we are called to claim this story as our own, to recognize our ability to kill and to heal, to suffer and to be restored.  The events of Jesus’s life and death (and resurrection – we will get to that, but don’t rush it!) are our story and in them we find the strength and courage to face the realities of our age with the same awesome love that Jesus demonstrates to his disciples over and over again; even when he knows he is about to be betrayed, even when he is hanging on the cross.

We need to sing this song of lament.  We need to offer our tears and sorrow not just because these events invite them, but because such events, the murder of innocent people, is still happening today. Violence is too much of our world.  Hatred and evil exist in overt and covert ways in our organizations and public structures.

As we come to the cross, it is not to only mourn for the man who died for us, but for all men, women and children who have died and are dying or about to die in some way that we can prevent.  War, gun violence, domestic violence, sex trafficking (to name a few) seem overwhelming and more than any individual can change.  True, but a movement can.  The movement that Jesus calls us to offer ourselves to each day.

This is our story – the sad, the terrifying and the joy.  Come and find your place in this story, be empowered by it so we can work together to make God’s Realm a reality for all people on earth. 

In Christ’s Unconditional Love,

Rev. Valerie+