WHY THE CROSS?
Good Friday 2024
“Why the Cross?” That’s a question humanity has been asking since the first Good Friday. The apostle Paul said the cross was “a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” (1cor 1:23) After all, Christians were making the claim that Jesus was God, and everybody in both the Jewish and Gentile world knew you couldn’t kill God. Besides, Jesus was Crucified. Crucifixion was a horrific method of execution the Roman state reserved for traitors and rebels. It was meant to shame the victim and their family and followers and to make sure their movement died with them. For that reason, the cross didn’t become a common Christian symbol for several centuries — until after crucifixion ceased to be used by the Roman state. Truly, at the time it was a stumbling block and foolishness to most people in the Empire. So why the cross? Why would God require that Jesus die in such a way? I believe the sentence I just uttered, “Why would God require that Jesus die in such a way?” is the literal crux of the problem. This whole area of theological inquiry is something known as “Atonement Theory,” and there are many different historical and modern ways of thinking about it. What follows here is my personal interpretation, and is by no means a teaching of any sort of singular, authorized teaching of the church.
Asking “Why would God require that Jesus die in such a way” assumes that God has a problem that needs to be solved by the death of Jesus. There is a lot of ancient and modern Christianity that asks the question this way. American fundamentalism has one of its tenets, the “Penal Substitutionary Atonement Theory,” which developed from a theory articulated by St Anselm in 1098. To explain simply, In Anselm’s feudal Medieval world, honor was a tangible thing that had real force. Sin offended God’s honor, for which God was obliged to punish sinners. Therefore, Jesus literally threw himself in between a vengeful God and humanity to provide “Satisfaction” of God’s honor. If the use of the word that way seems vaguely familiar, yes, it’s using “Satisfaction” exactly in the way a person in a period drama walks up to someone, slaps them with a glove, and demands “Satisfaction” of a perceived offense or a duel will occur. In this way of thinking, God’s honor is so infinitely high that any offense must be answered by atonement, including death.
Now, it’s important to state here that for Medieval people, this seemed like the act of a merciful God. In a feudal world where a Lord could and was expected to demand punishment of a vassal for any perceived affront, the fact that God would sacrifice his only Son in order to “Satisfy” the debt of honor for humanity was breathtaking and overwhelmingly merciful. It spoke to medieval Lords and suggested that maybe if God could refrain from punishing them for their sins, maybe they should refrain from punishing their vassals harshly.
But when you bring that forward into 21st Century society, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. When somebody who is not Christian asks “Why the cross?” and the answer is “God had to sacrifice his son to satisfy his own honor because we are bad people and made him angry!” that person will look at you blankly. We don’t share the same assumptions about honor that Western Medieval Christians did, nor do we live in a feudal society. But a large proportion of Western Christianity clings to this as the Gospel, even though it is actually Medieval and has never been shared by the Eastern branches of Christianity. Much of the language you will hear out of American Evangelicalism reflects this view, sometimes subconsciously. In my opinion, this is a stumbling block for people outside the church. It’s insider philosophical language that makes no sense to anyone outside. It also seems to imply that God really doesn’t like us that much — God is just an angry father figure waiting around to smite us until his wrath is appeased by his own Son.
And there’s an additional problem. No one can claim that abuse hasn’t been a problem inside the Christian Church. Continuing to teach about the cross this way in a modern environment doubles down on shame and fear and perpetuates an environment that enables such abuse.
But let’s try an experiment. Just like the popular meme of Morpheus from the Matrix, “What if I told you that Jesus didn’t die because God required him to, but because humanity required him to?” Much of my thinking on this is heavily influenced by the 14th Century Mystic and this year’s winner of Lent Madness, Julian of Norwich. And also by the 20th Century anthropologist and theologian Rene Girard.
We should think God likes us. In fact, God really loves us. God calls us “Very Good” in the creation account in the book of Genesis.
The “sports verse” John 3:16 states:
God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but will have eternal life.
But the following verse is every bit as important:
God didn’t send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him.
God loved us so much that God wanted to be with us. God always planned to be with us. God wanted to turn our hearts towards God and each other. God became human in the person of Jesus, not so he could get closer to slapping us and demanding satisfaction but in order to teach us and show us the way. God is perfect love, and Jesus is that love made flesh among us in the incarnation.
But there’s a problem. God created us in God’s image, but we don’t have God’s omniscience or power. We as humans are constantly frustrated by our own limitations, our bodily frailty, and our mortality. We cast about us for things to grant us security, certitude and power in a desperate attempt to become like God. This is the root of all Sin. And when we act as groups, we tend to act even worse. Our group dynamics, our politics, even our religion often emphasize the worst in us. Groups are capable of evil that its individual members might shirk away from. as Martin Luther King Junior wrote in his Letter from Birmingham Jail,
Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.
Ancient Palestine was full of groups jostling for power. The big boss, of course, was Imperial Rome, which was at the height of its power. It covered around 1.9 million square miles across three continents, with a standing army of about a quarter of a million men. It ruled with an iron fist. Rebellions were squashed mercilessly, and their participants were crucified by the thousands. It’s estimated that the empire crucified a total of 100,000 to 150,000 people over the centuries. Under the Romans, the puppet government of the Herodians functioned as a kingship in Galilee, with their own soldiers and courts. The Herodians had adopted Hellenistic culture and were generally disliked or despised by most of the population. The Temple priesthood was generally considered to be corrupt and collaborators since the high priest was appointed by the Roman Governor. Then there were various rebel groups, fomenting armed uprisings against the Herodians, the Romans, the Temple Priesthood, or all of them.
All of these groups jostled against each other, but they all shared a common assumption — that THEIR group needed to seize security, certitude and power for themselves. They all played the common game of human scapegoating and violence according to rules everyone understood. It is into this crucible that Jesus is born.
Jesus as an infant is immediately threatened by king Herod when the Wise Men seek the “King of the Jews” and the Holy Family flees to Egypt. As Jesus teaches, various groups both supportive and against the Temple Priesthood will conspire to entrap him. And in the end, depending on the Gospel, the Temple police arrest Jesus, Herod and the High Priest judge him, and he is sent to the Romans for crucifixion as a rebel against the Empire with the inscription “King of the Jews” above his head. These groups all hate each other, but they all work together to put Jesus on the cross. Why is this?
Because Jesus wasn’t just another charismatic leader attempting to seize political power. They could not understand him, and it enraged them. He didn’t threaten to become the next ruler of the Empire. It was more disconcerting than that. His presence and teaching threatened the very existence of the deadly version of King of the Hill that all of humanity was playing. In a world controlled by shame, He undermined scapegoating by socializing with those who were outcasts. In a society that was rigidly defined by nationality, class and gender, He taught that God loved everyone without distinction, so that as Paul would later articulate:
There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female
In a world defined by wealth, He told his disciples to not be controlled by materiality — sharing a common purse and taking very little with them as they spread the Gospel. No, this guy was dangerous. Not because he threatened to take over the reigns of power and control of the population, but because he threatened to destroy the very reigns of power all of the various groups wanted. They all wanted to be Empire. Jesus’ kingdom was not of this world. And for that reason they all wanted him dead.
So Why the Cross? Not because of God’s wrath, but because of ours. Because when we pursue Empire to guarantee Security, Certitude and Power, we nail love to the cross. Humanity has done this time and time again. With the prophets, with the martyrs, with Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Steven Biko, Martin Luther King Jr., Oscar Romero. Whenever love confronts Empire in a non-violent way, Empire responds with violence, because if it didn’t, people might decide they didn’t need Empire. When God’s love walked the earth incarnate in the person of Jesus, the authoritarians quaked, because the very foundation of their power was threatened.
So God didn’t demand Jesus be crucified. We did. And we still do whenever we oppress, intimidate, demean and persecute. Whenever we scapegoat or shame. Whenever we continue to play the games of power our species is so talented at in our desperate attempts to ignore mortality.
But here’s where the story turns folks, and where so many get it wrong. Despite Mel Gibson’s film, fixating on Jesus’ suffering ignores the fact that the Gospels tell us Jesus suffered for a shorter amount of time than expected. The soldiers were amazed when they went to end the lives of the rebels on the right and left of him and found Jesus already dead. It’s not about how much Jesus suffered, it’s about who Jesus is. Jesus is the Son of God. Jesus IS God in a way that is hard for us to understand.
When we crucified him who was sinless, we crucified God and brought God into the midst of our cycles of shame and blame and violence. Jesus has overturned those cycles and now we can set aside harmful cultural myths and see them for what they really are. God continues to be with us when we suffer, and stands with the persecuted and the oppressed. Jesus is there with every prisoner of conscience, every person condemned to die, and everyone who is reviled or spit upon for who they are. And Jesus is there with us when we stand against authoritarianism and Empire, and demand that the dignity of every human being be respected.
In Julian’s vision, her long and detailed view of the crucifixion changes instantly to one of Jesus with a joyous expression, and he asks her:
‘Are you well pleased that I suffered for you?’ (Julian answers, shocked by the question), ‘Yes, good Lord, thank you. Yes, good Lord, blessed may you be!’ Then Jesus, our kind Lord, said, ‘If you are pleased, I am pleased. It is a joy, a bliss, an endless delight to me that I ever suffered my Passion for you; and if I could suffer more, I would suffer more.’ — Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love (Oxford World’s Classics) (p. 68). OUP Oxford. Kindle Edition.
God is so in love with us that Christ’s passion is as nothing and would be gladly suffered as many times as it was necessary to show us how to love one another. Julian tells us that God would do it again for each one of us if it were needed to break our addiction to the cycles of shame and violence. God’s love is so great that Christs first words to Julian are “Are YOU pleased,” or in other translations, “are YOU satisfied?” There’s that word again, being turned on its head. Julian, Is YOUR wrath satisfied by my suffering? Looking upon Jesus on the cross are WE willing to give up our wrath towards God and one another? Are we willing to give up the things that crucify Christ?
And of course, even on Good Friday we look to Easter. What Tolkien once called the “Eucatastrophe” of the Gospel. The unexpected, sudden happy turn of the story to the Resurrection, except for which Jesus would likely be forgotten, as are so many the Romans killed to protect their Empire. But we have not forgotten him, and he does not forget us.
So Why the Cross? Because despite our best efforts as a species to hurt and destroy each other, God refuses to stop loving us, even when that love looks like death on a cross. The cross, when viewed through the lens of the Resurrection, is the pivot on which the world turns and where possibilities for a new life for humanity begin.
We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you: Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
Amen.
