Within the Womb of God

With crowds of people surrounding him on the road into Jerusalem, Jesus rides a donkey who, along with her colt, carry him into the city. He has garnered quite a following by this time, and also a fair number of enemies. His triumphal procession into Jerusalem, even seated on a beast of burden, has likely angered them even further. They plan to get rid of him for good. The woman with the alabaster jar sensed what was coming. With extravagant generosity and gentleness she cared for him and anointed his body for burial. He was so moved by her tender care of him that he directed her story be remembered whenever this gospel was proclaimed, and that it be told “in memory of her.” Judas, though, fumes about the wasted oil and is furious with both the woman and Jesus. Out of anger he steps into the quagmire of the elders’ decision to get rid of Jesus and, knowingly or unknowingly, sets the plan in motion.

Events move quickly from there. The chief priests and elders craft an image of Jesus as criminal, traitor and blasphemer of God. They feed these hostile images to the crowd who just days before hailed him with grand Hosanna’s. They turn the crowd into a rioting mob. With trumped up allegations they continue to incite the mob until it becomes a violent beast bent on destruction. People act against their better instincts and highest values. They even forfeit their own safety by calling for the release of Barabbas. They become a killing machine demanding the crucifixion of an innocent. It is a story of barbaric cruelty, of wanton persecution. It is also a timeless story as we know from watching similar dynamics play out on the national and world stage.

The crucifixion we remember today was horrific on so many levels. But I am convinced Jesus wouldn’t want us to stop there. He would want us to recognize the crucifixions in our own day as an assault against Divinity itself, on a par with his own. They include the merciless torture and death of countless populations around the world—from Syria to Honduras, Somalia and beyond. They bring to mind purposely ravaged fields, destroyed water supplies, bombings, government-sanctioned torture and killing, negligence toward women, families and children fleeing bombs, guns, hunger, thirst. These crucifixions are no less tragic or horrific than the one we remember today.

Perhaps, as Christians, we can reclaim Jesus as the archetypal model, the template for humanity as a whole and begin to name the crucifixions all around us. Jesus shows us what we are to become—transparent expressions of God’s living Spirit in human form. He models self-emptying love in his ability to be a non-reactive, forgiving presence even as he is being taunted, tortured and killed. He is able to accept both honor and betrayal without either an inflated or bruised ego just as he accepts humiliation and death without fighting or blaming those who abuse him. And though he felt abandoned by God in the throes of his agony, just as we might, in the end he hands over his spirit knowing it will be received by the One he has served throughout his life. In Luke’s Gospel his final words say it all: Father/Mother—into your hands I commend my Spirit. Agonizing pain and spiritual abandonment are released into God’s hands. It is an act of Trust.

The Darkest Night of every soul’s journey takes place within the womb of God. We may not feel held or loved within that gestational chamber, but neither did Jesus. He, too, felt abandoned in his suffering. He, too, cried out in a loud voice. Then he let go. His body was removed from the cross and taken away to the tomb. Gestation continued.

Holy Week teaches this transformational journey. It invites us to recognize and accept the mystery of suffering and to grow in our ability to carry the burdens of life without malice or blame, to challenge by living our deepest truths with a loving heart, and to continually increase our capacity to forgive and let go. May the lessons of Holy Week help us learn to trust our Loving Mother. It is She who brings light out of darkness, and new life from the grave.

 

 

 

 

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