While the Bible and Christian experience tell us the cross is about love, today's most popular model for understanding the cross leaves us feeling guilty, ashamed, even unlovable, and thus disinclined to love others. How did the meaning of the cross change so radically from its biblical roots?
Reflection
There seems to be a universal impulse to make sense of death. While I'm pretty sure most people know they will never know WHY certain things happen, we still seem to ask and ponder and speculate the possible answers. Perhaps we do so because for centuries we've been conditioned that way. When it comes to Christianity at least, almost everybody I know would have an answer for the why behind the cross, even though all of those answers are insufficient in one way or another. Nowadays, when I get asked why Jesus died on the cross, aside from laying out what I know about the historical circumstances leading up to his death, I usually just respond that I don't know.
Because that's the truth, we don't know. Everything we've ever been told about the cross is likely based on one of several theories that have gone around and around, anywhere from a few decades to hundreds of years old, which Tony lays out in his book. While I mostly allow people to believe whatever it is they want to believe, some of these theories are really disturbing and problematic, not just from a theological standpoint but also morally and ethically. If you are as serious about becoming religiously and spiritually anew through questions, connections and reflections as I am, then one of the first questions you ought to begin exploring is the one about Jesus on the cross. I could be wrong, but I honestly think the best place to land on this issue is uncertainty and wonder. Tony's book will help you ask some great questions and think on the most popular interpretations thoughtfully.
"If we are supposed to learn about love from God, then the idea that God predestined us to sin, which results in our eternal damnation and requires God's Son to die on the cross, teaches us very little about love." pg 133
Today, when people die, we don't seem to agonize over the meaning behind their death quite like the Christian church has for thousands of years over Jesus's untimely and devastating departure. Obviously, most of our loved ones who perish don't go missing three days later, nor do we have visions and encounters of them being alive--we just grieve and yearn to see and hear and touch them again, moving forward one painful step at a time, wondering how we'll ever be content without them. Eventually, we are able to move on, albeit a little less whole than before. Each time I ponder the death of someone, I am dumbstruck on the thought that at the very root of all life, there is death, and often in death there is new life-- and every time that concept is as simple as it is mystifying.
I find Jesus and his life and death utterly captivating, otherwise I wouldn't do what I do as a pastor. I want people to come to their own conclusions about the Bible, God and the point of the cross, but one of the concepts that resonated with me was the Mirror model. I couldn't help but wonder if Jesus chose to accept his fate as yet another opportunity to be a rabbi, teaching his friends about life even unto his own death:
"No view of Jesus' death has a better response to the problem of violence than the Mirror model. Violence is endemic and epidemic among humans, rooted in our inevitable rivalries with one another...By revealing the bankruptcy of the system of violence, Jesus opened the way to true charity toward others. His was a loving, sacrificial act in that he gave up something so valuable--his very life--to show us that we were caught in a loop of never-ending violence. We follow his example by doing the same, exchanging rivalry and violence for sacrificial love. When we choose love over violence, we step out of the loop, and we are cured of the contagion." pg 188.
What do you think? Not sure? If you want answers, I don't know what to tell you. If you want more questions, read this book.
Photo by Rubén Bagüés on Unsplash
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