Today in the sweltering heat of Lagos, I walked the Stations
of The Cross from our local church, The Church of Assumption. It is not the
first time in my life I have done a Stations walk, but there was something
different in it today. Perhaps it was due to the fact that traffic around
Falomo Bridge and Awolowo Road came to a standstill to make way for the
hundreds of us who had gathered to process, perhaps because my foolhardy choice
of footwear added an extra element of ‘trial’ to the experience, or maybe
because this is the first Lent that I have consciously decided to blog as I
fast (harder than one thinks, trust me), but if felt more potent.
The Stations of the Cross are pretty ubiquitous. Go into
most old church buildings anywhere in the world, and there they are: either
carved in stone, painted or in fresco. Jesus condemned, scourged, given a cross
on his back, helped by Simon the Cyrene, falling not once but thrice, his
bloody face mopped by Veronica, nailed to a cross, dead and then buried.
Pictured on their own, they are a sad and pitiful sight. In fact without the
knowledge of what is to come; his final words, ‘It is finished” sound like the
worst sort of defeat. No chance of a re=match, or an extension of time so that
the scared and long gone disciples could mobilise troops and fight back in Jerusalem. The battle was concluded.
I am often asked why it is I choose Jesus over the pantheon
of other belief systems out there. Why this man, who in today’s lectionary
reading from Isaiah 52:13 – 53:12,
is described as unremarkable looking, full of sorrows and despised and
rejected? I choose Jesus every time because of what he did rather than who he
was:
“But he was pierced
for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities, the punishment that
brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:4
It takes a lot to take a hit for one person, much more to
take it for the whole of humankind as Jesus did. As we processed, we were
reminded of the humanity of Jesus. Though wholly divine, he still bled, stumbled
and struggled to carry the cross, felt the isolation of his friends deserting
him, chose silence in front of Pilate rather than robust defence. He bore it
all, excruciating death to boot, for us. In this verse we are told he was
pierced for every sin that we have done and will likely do. He was crushed in
body so that our wrong intentions, actions,
complaints and excuses won’t come back and bite us. The serenity that we
oftentimes seek in external sources comes from him alone and that inner healing
we all yearn from comes via each open wound mark. In the violent violation of
his body comes eternal fulfilment for us all.
I choose to follow Jesus not only because he died for me,
but also because he opens a door for possibility, He would have died if it was
just for the one person, much less all of us. He could have chosen to show his
glory with a SWAT team of Angels, but that wasn’t the point. Those of us who
choose to believe, and it is a choice, because the God we serve is neither a
bully or boaster, do so because of the nature of Jesus. He is Divine but he is
Love Incarnate, He is the suffering servant, choosing to assist, when he could
have so easily let the cup pass him. Opting for obedience rather than defiance
and right to his last breath showing compassion and understanding, even to the thief
crucified beside him. Following him though challenging is all too beguiling,
and I challenge anyone to read the four Gospels and not fall in love a teeny tiny bit
with his character and nature.
Although Good Friday is a time of gratitude as we remember
the cross. It is also a challenging time as we are reminded of our duty to
serve, to bear our own crosses with grace and be certain that our Loving
Saviour will assist when it all gets too much. It is a time to do our small
sacrifices and to do them with cheer. Many joined in fasting today, some
abstained from meat (I enjoyed a sublime red snapper that I cooked ), but Good
Friday is so much more than these traditional observances. It is humanity’s road to freedom; a life where we are reminded
that if God could love us so much then we should love ourselves too and with
that deposit of love working in us, love those around us and bring heaven on
earth. The workers may be few, and the days might be flipping evil but in him
and with him and through him all things are possible and all circumstances turn
out for good.
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