STATIONS OF THE CROSS

THE WAY OF THE CROSS: The Path Through the City

shelliwilliams Breathing Out Series, STATIONS OF THE CROSS , , , ,

(part of the “Breathing Out” Lenten Series)

Breathe out…

I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Breathe in…

Station IV:  Jesus meets his mother

Scripture: Luke 1: 35, 42b (Luke 1: 35-55)

The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.”…Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

She loved her son…loved him with the deepest love that any mother would. After all, this was the child that she carried in her womb, birthed into the world in the rough hues of that cold desert night shielded only by a stable, or a cave, or a grotto, or something of the like. This was the child that she nurtured and saw grow into a successful young man. And now here he is…carrying the cross like a common criminal…bleeding and exhausted…but she is held back from approaching him. What she is called to do is atrocious. She must give him up.

But what about God? This is God’s child–the one that God created and love and with perfect love gave him to the world as a part of Godself. And this perfect love, this part of God, is being rejected by those to whom he was given.

Station IV, Jerusalem, Near the Armenian Catholic Church of Our Lady of the Spasm

But even in this we are called to forgiveness, the forgiveness that God showed us through the deepest love of a mother’s heart. Father, forgive.

Jesus, may your love, and that of your mother, be the spark of my zeal in the cause of spreading justice and peace through the human family. In the name of the One who brings all unity. Amen.

Station V:  Jesus is helped by Simon the Cyrene to carry his cross

Scripture: Mark 15: 16, 21-22 (Mark 15:16-22)

Then the soldiers led him into the courtyard of the palace (that is, the governor’s headquarters); and they called together the whole cohort…Then they led him out to crucify him. They compelled a passerby, who was coming in from the country, to carry the cross; it was Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. They then brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of the skull).

We really know very little about Simon–is he black, brown, white, olive-skinned? Does it matter? He was from Libya–a foreigner to the city of Jerusalem, an immigrant. Anonymously plucked out of the crowd to help a bleeding dying man, he stooped and hoisted the cross that Jesus was carrying to his own shoulder. Even at this late hour, God has orchestrated a Divine reversal in what the world expected.

Station V, Jerusalem, Franciscan Chapel of Simon of Cyrene

We are asked to contemplate how we are being asked to help Jesus carry the cross. This means letting go, breathing out our fears, our prejudices, and our justifications that hold us back from connecting with others, from completing the circle of God’s creation that is love. Father, forgive.

Jesus, may I be the one that carries your cross, that steps forward into the difficult venues of your love. In the name of the One who shows me what it means to be your Disciple. Amen.

Station VI:  Veronica wipes the face of Jesus

Scripture:  John 13: 4-5, 8b (John 13: 3-17)

Jesus…got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him…Unless I wash you…you have no share with me.

Tradition often identifies Veronica as the woman who Jesus had healed of a blood disorder (Luke 8: 43-48) who comes to be with him on the day of his crucifixion. This was a woman so moved by the compassion that she had been shown that she knows no other way to respond except with that same compassion. As she steps toward Jesus, she wipes the sweat and blood from his face and the imprint, the image of Jesus, is supposedly left on the cloth. In her compassion, Veronica was able to look through death and despair to the real image of Christ and, in doing so, found it in herself.

The story is not found anywhere in canonical Scripture. Tradition holds that this story probably originated in non-canonical texts, including the Acts of Pilate. The derivation of her name is from the words Vera (Latin, “true”) and Icon (Greek, “image”). Regardless of where the story originated, being human, being made in the true image of God, means that we are called to show compassion to others, who are also the “image of God”.

Station VI, Jerusalem, Greek Catholic Church of St. Veronica

Being human means being made in the image of God. Being human is what we are called to be. Father, forgive. 

Jesus, remind me again and again what it means to be human, what it means to be made in your image, that my life might be an imprint of your image for the world to see. Amen.

Christianity is an “even though” way of being in the world. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. (Sarah Lund)

“Requiem” by John Rutter, Movement III, “Pie Jesu” (Merciful Jesus)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

THE WAY OF THE CROSS: Just Within the Gates

shelliwilliams Breathing Out Series, STATIONS OF THE CROSS , , , ,

(part of the “Breathing Out” Lenten Series)

As I mentioned a few days ago, our Holy Week walk will use the Via Dolorosa, the Stations of the Cross.  The Stations of the Cross generally refers to a devotion that originated in the 4th century when pilgrims flocked to the Holy Land from all parts of the world to visit the land of Jesus.  When they got there, the most popular place visited was the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which had been built by the Emperor Constantine in 335 A.D. over what was believed to be the tomb of Jesus.  Over the years, the route of pilgrim processions—beginning at the ruins of the Fortress Antonia and ending at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (the tomb)—was accepted as the way that Jesus had walked to his death.  It became known as the “Via Dolorosa”, the “Sorrowful Way”, or “Way of the Cross”.

The Via Dolorosa marks the path Jesus traveled as he carried the cross from the place he was sentenced to the place of his resurrection.  Through the years, “stations” developed as early pilgrims honored places where events were likely to have taken place.  Many of these stations are only a guess since the Jerusalem of Jesus’ day was almost completely destroyed by the Roman armies in 70 AD.  But since the majority of Christians throughout the world could not journey to Jerusalem to walk the Via Dolorosa, the Stations became a spiritual tool that would give them an opportunity for a “mini-pilgrimage”.  It became a way for every Christian to enter that Holy Walk, the “Way of the Cross”, the way that takes us through the sorrows and despair of Holy Week that we, too, might emerge victorious in the glory of the Resurrection.

Five of the stations are non-canonical (meaning they’re actually not in the Bible as we know it) but they are gleaned from tradition, spiritual reflection, and other sources.  This includes stations 3, 7, and 9 (Jesus falling), 4 (Jesus meeting his mother), and 6 (Veronica wiping the face of Jesus).  I’ve added Scripture passages for your reading and reflection.

So, walk this way.  It may not be easy or pleasant or calming to the soul.  But by walking the Way of Sorrows, by entering the walk that Christ walked, one will truly encounter the incredible Feast of Joy.  Begin your walk with the prayer below and then, as you walk, stop and gaze upon each station.  Say the prayer of contemplation.  And look…Think about what it means.  Place yourself in its center.  And when you are ready, move on…The Path is yours to walk.  And remember to breathe out and breathe in…

I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Station I:  Jesus is condemned

Scripture: Luke 23: 13-14, 21b, 24 (Luke 23: 1-24)

Pilate then called together the chief priests, the leaders, and the people, and he said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was perverting the people; and here I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him.”…”Crucify, crucify him!”…So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted.

Jesus is the victim of the consummate power struggle, conflicting purposes that are exacerbated by the personalities and fears of those involved.  The person whose life is at stake seems to be ignored.  And justice fails.  The truth is, Jesus stands for all those things that are different from what we know.  Jesus says those things that the world does not want to hear.  He speaks against the status quo.  He speaks for those rejected and cast aside by acceptable society.  Jesus creates chaos in the midst of our orderly lives.  He must be silenced.

Oh, we stand in awe of these convictions.  We are amazed that someone has the courage to look into the face of death and, without fear, say nothing.  And yet many of us are silenced by our fears and our anxieties and our attempts to maintain our carefully preserved lives.  

Station I, Jerusalem, Site of the Antonia Fortress (now an Elem. School)

And now he stands…in silence.  “And darkness covered the face of the deep.” (Gen. 1:2a).  Father, forgive.

Jesus, true and silent victim, let the power of your life, the beauty of your silence, be my courage.  In the name of the One who redeems me.  Amen.

Station II:  Jesus takes up his cross

Scripture: John 19: 16-17

Then he handed him over to them to be crucified.  So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha.

And Jesus, carrying his own cross, starts his “Way of the Cross”.  Weak and alone, but with great dignity, Jesus emerges from the fortress.  And yet…there was so much that he still had to accomplish. It was almost too great to bear.

This wooden cross was a tree—a tree that God created, that God nurtured, that God showered with the joy of life—a tree that would become the instrument of Christ’s death.  We are asked, then, to bear the cross, to bear the instrument of death.  We are asked to bear life.

Station II, Jerusalem, Chapel of Flagellation / Chapel of Condemnation and Imposition of the Cross

Sadhu Sundar Singh says that “if we do not bear the cross of the Master, we will have to bear the cross of the world, with all of its earthly goods.”  Which cross is yours to bear?  Father, forgive.

Jesus, may your willingness to carry your cross be my strength in losing my life that I may find it. In the name of the One who bears all things.  Amen.

Station III:  Jesus falls the first time

Scripture:  Matthew 27: 27-31

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him.  They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head.  They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!”  They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head.  After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him.  Then they led him away to crucify him.

Jesus was exhausted and trembling under the weight of the cross-beam.  He could not take it any longer and fell to the ground, face down in the dust and dirt of the well-traveled path.  Someone jerked him up from his moment’s rest and prodded him on.  And the world stands and watches, seemingly unmoved by the visceral treatment of one who was once so renowned.  “Hail, King of the Jews”, now fallen, now face down in the dust and dirt of the well-traveled path.

Station III, Jerusalem, Small chapel near the Armenian Catholic Patriarchate

Where are we?  Do we lay there in the pathway of forgotten footprints?  Do we stand by the sidelines too afraid to move?  We must get up and get going.  It is time to follow.  Father, forgive. 

Jesus, may your courage be my stamina for getting up again and again, realizing that only the weak fall once. In the name of the One who raises me up on eagle’s wings.  Amen.

At the center of the Christian faith is the history of Christ’s passion.  At the center of this passion is the experience of God endured by the godforsaken, God-cursed Christ.  Is this the end of all human and religious hope?  Or is it the beginning of the true hope, which has been born again and can no longer be shaken?  For me it is the beginning of true hope, because it is the beginning of a life which has death behind it and for which hell is no longer to be feared…Beneath the cross of Christ hope is born again out of the depths.  (Jurgen Moltmann)

“Requiem” by John Rutter, Movement II, “Out of the Deep”

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Station XI: Regrets

shelliwilliams Cross, CRUCIFIXION, Golgotha, Good Friday, LENT, Passion, Station 11, STATIONS OF THE CROSS, Uncategorized

crucifixion-22Scripture Passage: Mark 15: 22-32

22Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull).23And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it.24And they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take.  25It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him.26The inscription of the charge against him read, “The King of the Jews.”27And with him they crucified two bandits, one on his right and one on his left.29Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, “Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days,30save yourself, and come down from the cross!”31In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes, were also mocking him among themselves and saying, “He saved others; he cannot save himself.32Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.” Those who were crucified with him also taunted him.

The eleventh station of the Via Dolorosa is marked by a beautiful Latin shrine.  This is the place where tradition tells us that soldiers nailed Jesus’ hands and feet to the cross.  It is only 9:00 in the morning.  For us, the thought of arriving at this eleventh station seems much longer, days really.  But it is still only mid-morning.  The sounds are deafening.  The clanging rings out over the land and settles into our hearts–a nail of greed, a nail of selfishness, nails of betrayal and hatred and war, nails of hunger and poverty, nails of not accepting and loving each other, nails of being so sure of one’s beliefs, so sure of one’s understanding of who God is and what God desires, that we miss seeing what God is trying to show us.  It is finished.  In the Name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven.

It is here that our regrets sink in. It is here that we want to go back, we want a redo.  We would do it differently next time. We would not ask so many questions as to why he was doing what he was doing and to whom.  We would just watch and listen and learn from him how to love.  We would not fight and grapple with each other over who was in charge, over who was the most important, over who was his favorite.  Instead, we would bask in his spirit and his radiance and his love of equality for all.  And when asked if we knew who he was, we would not betray him.  Rather, we would step forward no matter the cost.  Because grace is not cheap.  But now we know how incredibly rich it really is.  Yes, we would stand up and be counted as one who follows him, who brings healing and love to the world, who doesn’t need credit or acclaim, and who is willing to lose one’s life to find it.  But there are no redos just now.

Regrets can be debilitating.  They can pull us into the past and keep us there.  It is not healthy.  Regrets can also be life-giving if we allow them to compel us to change, to perhaps turn a corner that we did not see before, to become something new, a New Creation, to become the one that God calls us to be.  And, yet, we still want the easy way out.  After all, we are empty cross people, Resurrection people!  And so maybe we walk away from this moment entirely too quickly.  After all, it makes us uncomfortable and God offers us life.  So too quickly we let it go, too quickly we move past our regrets without letting them change us.

The most difficult thing for us to face is that so little has changed.  We still try to be the one on top.  We still shut the door to those who are not like us.  We still close our doors so we don’t have to think about poverty or homelessness.  We still justify war.  We still will do anything it takes to defend the life that we have created.  We still betray.  We forget to love; we forget to bring healing; we forget to lose our life.  So, would we crucify Jesus today?  Would things go differently?  Only we can tell…

So on this Lenten journey, stop for a moment.  Look at the cross.  And let your regrets of what should have been done differently change your pathway.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Station X: Stripped Naked

shelliwilliams Acceptance, Dignity, Jesus Christ, LENT, STATIONS OF THE CROSS

 

"Station 10", Peter Adams, 2012
“Station 10”, Peter Adams, 2012

Scripture Passage:  John 19: 23-25a

23When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four parts, one for each soldier. They also took his tunic; now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. 24So they said to one another, ‘Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see who will get it.’ This was to fulfil what the scripture says, ‘They divided my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.’ 25And that is what the soldiers did.

This tenth station of the Via Dolorosa recalls that the Roman soldiers stripped Jesus of his clothing and gambled for his robe near where Jesus was to be crucified.  Visitors can peer into a Latin chapel through a special window.  This station is disconcerting, to say the least.  Keep in mind that Jesus was Jewish and, as a Jew, had been taught that it was a disgrace to be seen naked.  This would have been the ultimate disgrace.  Jesus, stripped of his humanness and his very dignity, is being prepared for crucifixion.

Dignity is a strange thing.  We think of it as something that we humans can bestow or take away from each other at will.  And, yet, dignity by its very definition is described as innate.  It is a gift from God, a gift of our humanity, so removing it from another is essentially depriving them of something that has not only been given to them but is part of them.  So stripping Jesus of his garments was the way that his tormenters removed his dignity, the way that they made him something less than human, the way that they, in their minds, put him in some way beneath humanity, in some way less than themselves.

Sadly, there are ways that we continue to strip others of their dignity, ways that we over and over again strip humanity of the gifts that God has bestowed.  And it’s not limited to physical stripping, although we as a people are guilty of that over and over again as we allow that to happen to others.  Putting someone in a place of humiliation, a place where they can no longer be who they are called to be does the same thing.  Anytime that we become so convinced of our “rightness”, of our position of being above others, anytime that we misuse and abuse conceived power over others, anytime that we refuse to accept others because they are different than what we think they should be, we have again stripped the garments of Christ from our world.

And yet, Jesus was seemingly passive as the soldiers stripped away at his garments and bared his nakedness for all to see.  Maybe it was because he knew, he knew that he was being stripped of his humanness.  This is the turning point.  This is the way that one prepares oneself, by stripping away at the things that get in the way.  This is the final hour.  The cross is being prepared and Jesus along with it.

So on this Lenten journey, let us allow ourselves to be stripped of those things that get in the way, let us allow ourselves to be humbled that we might be open to receive the Divine into our lives.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Station IX: On the Other Side

shelliwilliams DISCIPLESHIP, Inclusion, LENT, Mercy, Repentance, STATIONS OF THE CROSS, Way of the Cross

"Under the Baobab Tree: African Stations of the Cross"
“Under the Baobab Tree: African Stations of the Cross”

Scripture Passage: Luke 10: 30-33

30Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.

For us, we have the sense that this procession to the Cross was some sort of grand parade but, truthfully, this was something that happened regularly.  It really was just another crucifixion in the big scheme of society.  And most would have assumed that this poor criminal, already tried, convicted, and sentenced, already rejected by society, was just being dragged to a death that he must deserve.  And, besides, this was the eve of the Passover.  There was so much to be done–errands, food to be prepared, houses to clean.  So think of all the passersby, scurrying through their lives, many complaining about the traffic and the clogged roads that the procession was causing.  So, many would have just passed by on the other side, not wanting to touch or be touched by hopelessness and despair and death or maybe just not wanting or having the time to get involved.  And, then, again, Jesus falls.

Tradition tells us that Jesus collapsed for a third time not far from where he would be crucified.  A Roman column indicates the location of his third and final fall.  It has become part of a wall of a Coptic church.  During the Crusader period, there was a large monastery here, the remains of which are still visible today.  Standing there, you can see the roof of St. Helena’s Chapel, a part of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where a community of Abyssinian monks live today.  This is the place where Jesus would fall for the last time.  This is the end of the road, so to speak.  The next station will be on the other side, preparing him for crucifixion.  This is the last place where those along the way could show mercy, the last place where they could help, where they could stoop down and gently help him to his feet.  But most would pass by on the other side.

This is uncomfortable for us.  After all, where would we have been in the procession?  I hate to admit it, but I’m not the most patient person in the world. I’m afraid that I would have been avoiding the traffic,trying to get everything done, trying to get everything in place by sunset.  We are so accustomed to living a life of faith needing Jesus.  We know we need Jesus.  We know that we are not complete without God.  We do not always live that way, often trying to fix things and change things and make it look like we don’t need anyone.  But we know we do.  We need Jesus.  But, here, here is the place where Jesus needs us.  How can that be?  How can the Savior of the World need me?  These three falls that are depicted in the Via Dolorosa, the Way of the Cross, uncomfortably show Jesus as vulnerable, as betrayed, and as needing us.  So where are you standing?

Jesus still needs us.  We are called to be there to feed the starving, to house the homeless, to clothe the poor.  We are called to be there to comfort the afflicted, to hold the grieving, to love the unloved.  We are called to be there to welcome the sinner and forgive the unforgiven.  We are called to open our church doors to all the children of God.  We are called to be Christ, to be Compassion, to be Love each and every time one of us falls.  So in this Lenten season, let us not relegate our faith to the other side of the road.  Let us walk the way that Jesus walked.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Station VIII: Lament

shelliwilliams Change, KINGDOM OF GOD, Lament, LENT, Station 8, STATIONS OF THE CROSS

"The Women: Veronical Wipes Jesus' Face and Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem, St. Mary's Church, Barton-on-Humber, April 4, 2007
“The Women: Veronical Wipes Jesus’ Face and Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem, St. Mary’s Church, Barton-on-Humber, April 4, 2007

Scripture Passage: Luke 23: 27-31

27A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him.28But Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.29For the days are surely coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.’30Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us’; and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’31For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

The eighth station on this holy walk is marked by a stone with a Latin cross on the wall of a Greek Orthodox church.  Near the cross, an inscription reads, “Christ the Victor.”  Tradition has designated this as the place where Jesus encounters the women of Jerusalem.  The women were convinced of his holiness.  I don’t think they understood it completely.  After all, who did?  (After all, who does?)  But they knew that he was something special.  After all, he had paid attention to them, these women, these ones who were given no place in society other than to birth babies.  He saw them as something more.  And they were grateful.  And today they grieved.

As Jesus and the crowd moved closer to the end, the wailing got louder and louder.  Jesus, covered in dirt and sweat and near death, lifted his head and looked into their eyes.  “Do not weep for me,” he said, “but weep for the world.”  Weep for the world; cry for the world; grieve for the world. In other words, those that suffer in the world, those parts of the world that are not life-giving, those part of people’s lives that are not the vision that God holds–those things should bother you.  Those are the things for which you should weep.

Weeping is hard for us.  Our culture is pretty well emotionally controlled, for the most part.  In fact, there are those that grow up thinking that tears and grief and crying are a sign of weakness.  We do not know how to lament.  And, yet, think of all those psalms of lament.  They are prayers.  Laments are prayers.  Weeping is prayer.  These are prayers for what could be and is not, prayers for what should have been that fell short, and prayers for the hurting in our world.  Jesus is telling these women to pray, to wake up, and to work to change the world.  He is acknowledging that they understand this vision and that, now, they have work to do.  It is a way of putting others before self.  It is a way of engaging yourself and your faith in bringing the Kingdom of God in its fullest into being.  It is a way of continuing the life of Jesus Christ.

I saw a feature news story by NBC’s Brian Williams last night on Camden, New Jersey.  A bustling boomtown in the first half of the 20th century, Camden is now America’s poorest city and the one with the highest crime rate.  Surrounded by relatively affluent suburbs, it is the place that we drive by, wondering why no one does anything.  Its residents that fill the inner city row houses seldom venture outside for fear of the safety of themselves and their children.  It is the way we hide poverty and despair in plain sight.

http://www.nbcnews.com/video/rock-center/51110367

So on this Lenten journey, learn what it means to weep for the world.  Pray for the world and for others who hurt and grieve and bleed, those who fear and cry and need.  Learn to lament, an active lament that will make you part of bringing the world into that vision that God holds.  Open your eyes to see the pain that exists in plain sight.  Our Lenten journey calls us to do something to change the world.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Station VII: Betrayed

shelliwilliams Betrayal, Betrayed, CRUCIFIXION, LENT, Station 7, STATIONS OF THE CROSS

Station 07-EScripture Passage:  Matthew 26: 20-23

20When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; 21and while they were eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” 22And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?” 23He answered, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me.

The seventh station on the Via Dolorosa is Jesus’ second fall.  Marked by a Roman column housed in a Catholic Chapel, it is the traditional place where the Gate of Judgment stood.  This is the place where judgments were passed on those that had committed crimes.  And here, passing out of the city, Jesus falls again.  Though surrounded by a host of onlookers and curious tourists, he is alone, deserted and betrayed by those whom he had loved.  You can surmise that they were fearful for themselves, perhaps even fearful that there would be no one to carry the message into the future.  But let’s be honest.  They just weren’t there.  The night before, Jesus had dipped his hand into a bowl that others at the table would also touch and dip.  Jesus knew that the one who had dipped his hand into the bowl with him would betray him.

I know.  The story picks up with Judas right after the verses of Scripture that I used.  We like thinking of Judas as the poster boy of betrayal.  That’s an easy way out, to blame it on the most obvious perpetrator, the one who makes us all look like saints.  And yet, Jesus’ words as the writer of this Gospel portrayed them, says “the one who has dipped his hand…”  Think about it.  It was a community bowl.  ALL of those at the table dipped their hands in the bowl.  The truth is, Jesus probably knew that he would be alone on this day, that all would in their own way betray him–one by a kiss, one by a denial, and others by stepping back into their fears that they, too, might be found out.

Polish-born writer Isaac Singe said that “when you betray someone else you also betray yourself.”  The reason, I think, is because betrayal cuts so deep that you lose a part of yourself.  If someone asked you what the opposite of faith is, you’d probably immediately say doubt.  But, think about it, doubt compels one to search, compels one to question, compels one to grow.  Doubt and faith are inextricably intertwined.  The opposite of faith, the antithesis of faith, of journeying toward who you are called to be is more than likely betrayal.  It is completely contrary to “love your neighbor” as well as to “love God with [all you are]”.  Betrayal is a loss of who one is called to be.

And so Jesus falls, alone, defeated, betrayed.  He was feeling the ultimate of rejection.  All he had left was hope.  And so he breathed deeply and continued on.  And his betrayers cowered behind closed doors feeling a loss that they could not describe.  Surely not I…surely not I…surely not I.

In this Season of Lent, think of ways that you betray who you are called to be, ways that you cut yourself off from life, from others, from God.  Then, rise up, for you faith has made you whole.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli