See the Wounds

During the season of Easter, we scramble to find the risen Christ.  It was no easier for the disciples 2,000 years ago.  For although they had Jesus with them bodily (both before and after the cross), they found it difficult to see Jesus.

Like the disciples, on Easter Day we went to the tomb expecting to find Jesus there, and we were told: "He is not here."  Taken down from the Cross, Jesus is no longer affixed there.  He is not in the tomb where we laid him.  He is not parading into Jerusalem to take his throne, like we expected after Palm Sunday.  So where is Jesus?  Where do we find Jesus--how do we find him?

It all depends on what we see when we look.  Look at what?  When we look at anything.  To be more specific, it depends on the evidence for which we are looking.  Are we looking for evidence of what is seen, or evidence of what is unseen?

One of the ultimate Christian paradoxes is that God uses what is seen to reveal--to show--what cannot be seen.  God, who is always hidden, is revealed in mystery.  The traces of God are teased out through the contradictions of life.  And the indescribable truths are understood through experience, even if they remain indescribable.

As you go through life, what evidence of God are you looking for?

Jesus proved God's presence and power by showing the disciples his wounds.  The bright light and glorious angel-messengers on Easter only served to scare the disciples and stop them from sharing the gospel.  But when Jesus finally appeared after being raised, he met them quietly.  And the proof of his identity was not lightening or voices from heaven, the evidence he brought were wounds.

What do you see when you see wounds?

What do you see when you visit someone who is sick in the hospital?  What do you see in the person who is losing their mind and personality in dementia?  What do you see in the soldier who has lost limb, or even life, in the course of service?  What do you see in the patient in traction because of a car accident?  What do you see in the stroke victim?  What do you see when a child skins his or her knee?  What do you see as you sit beside a loved one's deathbed?

If we cannot find Jesus in these things, we cannot find Jesus anywhere.

Jesus' presence is in the hurt.  Jesus' power is in the healing.  God's love and power is strongest in the midst of wounds and death.

Because of Christ, there is only one illness or injury that is fatal.  "Really?"--you may be asking.  "People seem to die of many things."  That may be what we see, but it is not what is going on unseen.

If the illness is slight, Jesus is the one who empowers our bodies or minds to heal.  If the wound is great, it is the Holy Spirit who calls forth medicine and causes it to be an effective intervention.  And if the illness or injury leads to death, our Father is the one who imparts life anyway.  None of these results in ultimate death.  There is no sickness that is unto death.

Once, Jesus' friend Lazarus got really sick.  When Jesus heard of Lazarus' illness, he did not rush to heal him, but told his disciples that, "this sickness is not unto death" (John 11:4).  After suffering for days, Lazarus finally died.  Jesus wept when he heard the news, and yet he proclaimed that the sickness was not unto death, and told Martha, "Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live" (John 11:25).  Death was not unto death.  But the disciples did not see, did not understand what Jesus meant by this paradox, by this mystery.  Jesus raised Lazarus from the grave.  He did it to reveal the power of God.  But even when the crowd saw Jesus do it, and heard him repeat over and over again that he was doing it to reveal the unseen (John 11: 4, 15, 42), even then the crowd assumed that Lazarus was just unconscious, that he was never really dead.  They could not even believe when Jesus made it seen.

Soren Kierkegaard wrote a whole book trying to fuss out the unseen in that story about the death of Lazarus (the title of the book: The Sickness Unto Death).  And taking Jesus words as truth, Kierkegaard came to the conclusion that the only sickness unto death is despair.  In faith, Jesus' power is proven in injury, sickness, and death.  In despair, it is impossible to trust in what is unseen, and our lives are then consumed by what is only seen.

Jesus was wounded to indicate where Jesus is when we are wounded.  Jesus died so that we might be able to trust God's presence even in death.  Jesus was raised up so that we would be able to see what is going to happen to us when we die.  Jesus is the evidence of God at work.  Jesus makes seen what was formerly unseeable.  But even when we see the unseen, it is difficult to trust, and it is still so easy to despair!  When you see wounds and sickness and death, what do you see?  Do you believe?

God's most glorious appearance in the world is the Cross.  And if the resurrection had any glory in it, it was only because the Cross happened.  And so the heavy crosses you bear are not occasions of despair, they are indications of all that is yet unseen.

This short prayer was the epigraph of Kierkegaard's book, The Sickness unto Death.  It sets up the true theme of the book, and yet Kierkegaard doesn't use "seen" or "unseen" or "sight" at any other part of the book itself:

"Lord, give us weak eyes for things of little worth, and eyes clear-sighted in all of your truth."

What is seen does give us cause for despair.  But if we despair, we die spiritually and ultimately.
What is unseen in the midst of what is seen, gives us hope and cause for thanksgiving---if we believe what is unseen.  The gospel, or rather Jesus, gives evidence for the unseen.  Therefore, faith is possible.

In faith, everything is ours... all that is, seen and unseen.

THANKS BE.
 

Last Meal

Recently, on FaceBook, I saw a link to an artist's series of photographs of the last meals ordered by notorious criminals before they were executed by the state for their crimes.

You can take a look, too: http://www.buzzfeed.com/alanwhite/12-pictures-of-death-row-prisoners-last-meals#.mt1edMPoVz

I can't help but think that this tradition of the death row last meal is linked to Jesus' story, the story of Holy Week.  We remember on Maundy Thursday that on the night of Jesus' betrayal and incarceration--the night before he was executed--he shared a final meal with his disciples.  Perhaps our Western culture adopted last meal from the Christian scriptures in a desire to show some small mercy, some final small sign of grace, to condemned prisoners.  I don't know if such a link or etiology is true, and so I speak on it now without authority.

An inmate's last supper is not simply a courtesy, but a reminder of and link to Christ.  As the scripture says, "But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved..." (Ephesians 2:4-5).  Though it seems such a small gesture, the last meal can be a powerful reminder that Jesus has given sinners and criminals his own body and blood to eat and drink.  The last free choice a death row inmate makes is what to have for a last meal.  And one meal is all they get for their death.  It feels paltry and can even perhaps be felt as an insult or a joke.  Yet, though the kindness is small, God's work in it is potentially great.  For the last meal echoes the Last Supper and we hear the reverberations: "Then he took a cup...saying, 'Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins" (Matthew 26:28) and again, "...'Do this...in remembrance of me.'  For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes" (1 Corinthians 11:25b-26).

But just as with so many of our powerful symbols, the last meal pales in comparison with the truth.  The point of Jesus' last meal was not just the food, but what the food did and what the food--the meal--was doing even in that moment and continues to do across time whenever we remember or do likewise.  The point was Communion, and it was, indeed, and continues to be holy.  That is what the death row inmate is denied: eating the meal with their closest friends and family.

Before his trial and death, Jesus sat with the disciples.  They ate; they drank; they shared life; they talked and laughed; they worried and mourned; they remembered the successes and defeats of their ancestors; they remarked on God's presence and work among them.  Whatever tomorrow would bring, these people bonded in a community that night.  Then, miraculously, Jesus--in that very meal--took a human community and made it a holy communion.  Through Jesus, they would bond in the breaking of the bread, and they would be caught up in the pouring out of wine.  From that day forward they would eat not just bread alone, but the Son of God.  And in the eating, they would be unified with God and each other in bonds invisible and unbreakable.

We see the death-row inmate eat alone.  But this is false.  Jesus is always present at the last supper, whether it is eaten by the righteous or the sinner.   And if Jesus is present, then the whole Church must be as well.  Because you don't get to choose the communion, Jesus does.

This Gospel poses a problem and a scandal.  I despise the idea that Jesus would condescend, would lower himself, by sitting with an abuser or murderer or rapist.  How much more offensive to think that he eats with them, let alone forgives them or loves them!  I struggle with the thought that he died for them.  And yet the Innocent One died for the sins of humanity, we are told.  What use would a savior be if he or she only wiped clean the white lies or merely things like grand theft?  We require a more powerful savior than that, I think.  But what a two edged sword this more powerful savior is!  How painful when the Savior cuts away our sin, our sensibilities are sliced and our ability to forgive is dissected for inspection.  But having a God who is unchangeable means that no matter what happens, no matter what we do, our relationship with God need not change.  The Cross is proof that the steadfast love of God endures forever.

Do not mistake me--or the Gospel.  I am not saying let all the prisoners go free and free of consequence.  I am not even saying that the death penalty should be abolished--that message doesn't help the one having their last meal this very day.  No.  There are consequences in this world.  When I refuse to put on my jacket when my mother tells me to, I will suffer the cold.  My mother will eventually forgive me for not doing what she said, but that won't change the fact that I will be cold.  If I commit adultery, my wife may forgive me, but that doesn't mean that our marriage will survive, or if it does survive it certainly will be forever changed because of my actions.  When we sin in this world, we must face the worldly consequences.  But with God, forgiveness is pardon.  The consequences of our sins have become the Cross...and someone else took on those consequences so that we wouldn't lose our inheritance.  And as hard as it is, Jesus died on the cross taking up all the sins of the world.  Not just my little, forgivable sins, but also the enemy's major and unforgivable ones.  I don't like it, but marvel at the power of such a Savior.

We say that Jesus died for the sinner, that Jesus (who knew no sin) took on the sins of others and died for it.  We say that on the Cross, Jesus destroyed sin and death.  But how many believe what is said?  Until we can see the Last Supper in the last meal....  No.  Until we can see Jesus in and through the guilty inmate sentenced to die, we haven't fully appreciated the gift we have all been give.  Until we can bear to image God present on death row or in the injection chamber, we do not know the power of God--we do not appreciate the lengths God with go for love.  Until we feel the profound unity that comes with Holy Communion, we cannot appreciate the Resurrection.

Each of us is walking a row that leads to death.  At any time, our daily bread may turn out to be our last supper.  Yet every bite and every sip stand as a reminder of the Holy Meal, the Holy One who brings life.  And Holy Communion brings us Jesus Christ, who unites us together with our immortal and all-mighty God.

Today, we pray for the imprisoned, and for those facing execution, whether they are innocent or guilty---because Jesus was imprisoned and faced execution.  And because Jesus lived and died for the ones who live it.  Today, we pray for those who are ordering their last supper, that Jesus be present at that table and drink of the same cup.  For by Jesus' presence sin is turned to righteousness and death is turned to life.

On the Cross, Jesus gathers ALL people to himself.  And through his body and blood he makes ALL people one.  And in Holy Communion, we all get a new "life on the outside."

What blessed joy is ours in such grace.