Hello and welcome to “The Well”, a spiritual growth podcast from Saddleback Church. My name is Brandon Bathauer and I’m excited to journey with you into a reflection on the cross.
Wherever you are, wherever you find yourself in this moment, take a deep breath, and get settled.
Traditionally, the day we reflect on the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is called Good Friday. Good Friday is good because it unveils what is true, what is real.
May this reflection be an unveiling to you. As you reflect today on the cross, this pinnacle of human brokenness and divine grace, may God give you eyes to see things as they actually are.
Listen to these words written by the disciple Matthew in chapter 27:22-44. Enter into the story.
Matthew 27: 22-44 22 “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked.
They all answered, “Crucify him!”
23 “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate.
But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”
24 When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!”
25 All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!”
26 Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.
The Soldiers Mock Jesus
27 Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. 28 They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, 29 and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. 30 They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. 31 After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
The Crucifixion of Jesus
32 As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. 33 They came to a place called Golgotha (which means “the place of the skull”). 34 There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. 35 When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. 36 And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. 37 Above his head they placed the written charge against him: THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS.
38 Two rebels were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left. 39 Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads 40 and saying, “You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!” 41 In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. 42 “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. 43 He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” 44 In the same way the rebels who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him.
HUMAN BROKENNESS
Imagine their clenched teeth behind curled, chapped lips. The insults, the rage, the anger and retribution in their firey eyes. The angered crowds spitting and yelling and cursing at the one who was raised above all men. So much anger, rooted in fear. So much rage, with so little understanding.
Imagine the sarcastic laughter from the educated, religious elites standing behind the crowds. They snicker and joke and ironically quote the Torah. So certain of their victory, so apathetic to suffering. So prideful in their blindness.
The cross shows us as we actually are. It is a mirror that shows a perfect reflection of who we are and what we’re capable of… we the mockers, the violent, the retributive, the power hungry, and the lost. It is the singular, clearest image in the cosmos that proclaims that we humans need saving. We did this to the embodiment of love.
Good Friday is good because it unveils the depths of our capacity to miss it, to miss and malform and mutilate the image of God calling upon our lives. We humans have an unarguable ability to turn love into hate, to turn grace into judgment, to turn peace into war, to turn life into death. You don’t have to look around long to see this. Turn on the news or social media or any outlet that reflects human behavior and you won’t be able to miss it.
This does not feel too encouraging. It is uncomfortable. Personally, in this moment, I feel the need to jump to “but, there are some that do it right…there are glimpses of charity, kindness, and hope in the darkness”. But let’s not jump there so quickly. The cross calls us to reflect on the reality of humanity. The reality that comes from choosing our own power instead of the Creator’s love. We are all marred by this. And we all carry the scars to prove it.
There is an old Greek breath prayer that has been proclaimed for much of Christian history. In churches all over the world, the lips of Jesus followers utter: Kyrie, eleison. This means, LORD, have mercy.
Take some time. Reflect on the brokenness of our humanity, created for good, yet oriented towards ourselves. Yes, begin with the news stories, of all the wrongs perpetrated from those broken and bigoted and blind people these past years. But don’t stay there too long…turn inward. See the rebellion in you. See yourself in the crowds before Jesus’ cross. What would be your response as a member of this crowd we call the human race? Would you be among the sarcastic, apathetic elites? Would you be in the angry mob? Would you be the powerful soldiers taking out your pain on another? Mourn the reality that comes from rebellion. Then ask: Kyrie, Eleison. Lord, have mercy.
(PAUSE)
DIVINE GRACE
Bring the crowds again to the surface of your mind. See their eyes, their cursing lips, their sarcastic sneers. Then turn your head around to the one on the cross. Behold him. See past his mutilated face, the blood running from the thorns, the gasps for air. See him. See him look at the elites, at the mob, at the soldiers. Then see him turn his eyes to you, there in the crowd. What is his expression?
The cross stands as the most perfect window into the heart of God…the just one, the loving one, the gracious one. It is the single, clearest image in the cosmos that we have a savior.
Good Friday is good, yes because it unveils who we actually are, but it is good all the more because unveils the depths of God’s capacity to love, to lovingly embrace, to lovingly correct, to lovingly forgive, to lovingly save. Our good God has an unarguable ability to turn hate into love, to turn judgment into grace, to turn war into peace, to turn death into life. This is the beauty of the cross…hate transformed into love, judgment transformed into grace, war turned into peace, death turned to life,. You don’t have to wonder long to see this. Look at the cross, look to those saved around you. Look in the mirror and see God’s fingerprints in your story, and you won’t be able to miss it.
On the surface, it may be far easier to accept the love of God than to sit in our brokenness. We really like to talk and sing about how much God loves us. Of course, this is a wonderful truth. But, when we realize the cost, the sacrifice, the loss from which this love springs, it may not be as comfortable, as flippant. It’s easy to fall into a mindset where the cost of forgiveness is a simple “no worries”, something that can easily be made right. But when you see your Creator, the One by whom the whole cosmos is made, brutalized and murdered by our brokenness, and FOR our brokenness, it is a much more sacred and costly forgiveness to accept. How would you like someone to respond if you forgave them for taking the life of your son? With lighthearted positivity…or a sacred, cherished, almost unspeakable appreciation for a new life?
There is an old Latin breath prayer sung in numerous songs throughout Christian history: Agnus Dei, qui toils peccata Mundi…O Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.
Take some time. Reflect on the sacred, almost unnameable grace of our God—who created us, then saves us, then redeems us. Yes, begin with the moments of beauty around you. The waves of the ocean that, like his love, never stops. The world that He decides to keep spinning. The green, bountiful, new life that still springs forth from cursed ground. Then turn inward. What divine grace have you forgotten about that you need to praise him for? What sin has he taken from your life and turned to holiness? What hate has he turned to love? What judgment has he turned into grace? Then praise Him. Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi. Praise to you, Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.
(PAUSE)
Father, thank you for a way forward. At the intersection of our brokenness and your grace, you have placed the cross. And in it, you have proclaimed for us a way forward. Lord, you have forgiven me, not that I might just lounge in such forgiveness, but that I may walk in your way, a different way. Lord, by the power of your work on that dark and beautiful day, may I be part of the new humanity you are forming: cross-bearing, sacrificial, marked by your son. May I live out the reality of the cross, by the power of your spirit and in the way of Jesus, by turning hate into love, judgment into grace, war into peace, and death into life. In the name of Jesus, Amen.