The Scandal of the Cross

I was having a conversation recently about the scandal of the cross.  I have always taken this phrase to mean that the reality of forgiveness for sinners based solely on the merit of another (namely, Jesus) is a scandal.  That the only person in existence who had no reason to be put to death was tortured and killed.  Worse yet, it was done precisely for those who held the whip, hammer, and nails (namely, me).

Part of our conversation concerned the genocide in Rwanda, now 15 years past.  For the first time, I did not focus on the victims who were butchered with machetes (many within the walls of the churches they sought out for comfort and protection), but on those holding the weapons of death and destruction.

A comment was made that some of the killers said they were Christians.  Whenever I hear the phrase, "said they were Christians," it catches my attention because it usually means that we don't believe someone is really a Christian.  That we hear the words, but their actions are un-Christian and so we don't really believe them. I do not intend to be overly critical, this is a very popular way of thinking.  Unfortunately, it is not Christian thinking because none of our actions are "Christian."  We are unsuccessful at loving loving truly and unconditionally and therefore we are unsuccessful at living as Christians should.  That is why Jesus is so important. 

With that perspective I can almost guarantee that there were in fact Christians on both sides of the Rwandan genocide (and almost any other genocide for that matter).  Being a Christian does not always prevent us from acting in anger and fear as opposed to God's love. Christians commit horrible acts everyday, even cold-blooded murder, and they are forgiven by God every time. 

That is the scandal of the cross for me.  The scandal is not that God forgives the things we don't think are a big deal, the scandal lies in the fact that God forgives the sin in us that we find unforgivable and unimagineable.  All sin is horrific if we consider it carefully and any of us is capable of terrible things if put under the right (or I should say "wrong") pressures and circumstances.  

Christ died on the cross for us and that means the worst of us and the worst in us.  The blood of Jesus is enough for all. It is enough for those poor souls who turned to violence and ethnic cleansing in Rwanda. It is enough for the worst of the worst like Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, and Idi Amin...it has to be, or it is not enough for me.  And I need it to be enough for me.

Thank you Timothy for helping to remind me of the power of the cross.

Reminiscing on Cowardice

On the way to work today I heard an old favorite on the radio called "The Impression that I Get," by The Mighty, Mighty Bosstones. I was struck by some lyrics that I have sung unwittingly many times before:

I'm not a coward

I've just never been tested

I'd like to think that if I was I would pass

I look at the tested and think there but the grace go I

I might be a coward

I'm afraid what I might find out

I have grown up imagining myself the hero, thinking that if I saw someone being attacked or was in the middle of a violent situation, I would rise to the occasion and play the hero.  I cannot say that I have been truly tested on this (and for that I am thankful), but all indications point to me being a coward and not a hero.

A couple years ago, my mother and I were hiking in Yellowstone National Park and we came across a black bear.  Black bears are all over Yellowstone and they are rarely aggressive or dangerous to hikers. This was not even the first one we had encountered on this trip, but it was the first one that was less than 10 feet away.

You talk about wanting to see a bear in the wild and how cool that would be.  I just remember being terrified.  There was this creature, minding its own business, eating something in the trunk of a tree, and I could not get over how easily it could utterly destroy me.  My instinct was not to stand my ground and protect my mother who was hiking right behind me.  It was to avoid it and skirt by as fast as I could.

Nothing happened, but my performance does not lead me to think, "that if I was [tested] I would pass."  I don't know how I will react in any given situation, but often in this life I find that the way I imagine myself acting is rarely the way I actually act when the situation arises.  I imagine being a good boyfriend and then when I am dating someone I do all kinds of stupid things.  I imagine being a good priest and end up making some really bad calls when things get difficult.  I imagine loving those around me, but end up putting myself first before all others.

So, "I look at the tested and think there but the grace go I." Only by the grace of God in Jesus Christ go I and without that I am nothing more than a coward, a liar, a cheat, and a beggar.  In all my failings (and they are too numerous to count) I am loved.  In all my work, I am used in spite of myself.  In all my relationships, I am able to live by the word of forgiveness given first to me by Jesus.  I am able to love because I have been loved first.

Amen.