Lent Makes Me Weary: A Good Friday Reflection

Lent makes me weary.  As I was preparing for this sermon, I just wanted to say, “I can’t take one more day.”  Why?  The reasons abound. Some reasons are trivial…like I prefer hymns with the upbeat melodies and prefer red or blue instead of purple linens.  The Lenten hours are long, there are more services and extra bible studies.  Yet, perhaps the reason it makes me most weary, is that you can’t ignore Jesus. You have to look at Jesus full on…and while looking at Jesus, you see yourself. 

Theologian and writer, Barbara Brown Taylor writes about our Lenten encounter of Jesus, “He offered himself as a mirror they could see themselves in, and they were so appalled by what they saw that they smashed it. They smashed him, every way they could.”

When we hear quotes like this, we find ourselves nodding in agreement. Yes, Pilate smashed him. Yes, the Jewish elders smashed him. Yes, the Roman soldiers smashed him.  The truth is, that this isn’t a story of Roman and Jewish villains.  It isn’t a story of nails and methods of torture. It is our Lenten story.  We look upon Jesus and are appalled by what he shows us.  And we smash him too. 

Lent makes me weary because as I look at Jesus on the cross, and see the reflection of myself mirrored back, I am reminded of how imperfect, how sinful, how full of bitterness, self-righteousness and even hate I am.  When I look at the Jesus on the cross, who despite his weariness and failing flesh, is still extending forgiveness and grace, I am reminded of how many conditions I put on love. I am reminded of how many times I judge others as unworthy placing boundaries and limits on where God’s love can go and who it may redeem.  When I look at Jesus on the cross and see the real me reflected in its light, I want to smash it. 

You see, during the rest of the church year, we find ways to justify and rationalize away our sinfulness.  We talk in relative terms.  We think, “Well, at least I’m not like them.  Our my sin isn’t as bad as my neighbor.” During the rest of the church year we find ourselves able to escape the gaze of Christ from the cross talking about empty tombs and new creation, Pentecost and arrival of the holy spirit, and even the baby Jesus.  Who is going to is going to be intimidated by infant baby Jesus?  Yet, Lent doesn’t let us go. It doesn’t let us off the hook so easily. Lent says, “Look Jesus in the face.  See who you are really are.” 

Barbara Brown Taylor continued her reflection saying, “In the presence of his integrity, our own pretense is exposed.  In the presence of his constancy, our cowardice is brought to light. In the presence of his fierce love for God and for us, our own hardness of heart is revealed. Take him out of the room and things become relative. I am not that much worse than you are nor you than I, but leave him in the room and there is no place to hide. He is light of the world.  In his presence, people either fall down to worship him or do everything they can do to extinguish his light.” 

And on this night, in a darkened sanctuary, we are reminded of the night when all of humanity—including us and our sin—made its best attempt to extinguish the light, to smash the mirror.  Resist the urge to shout, “I can’t take one more day.” And instead look upon the cross…and listen.  In the midst of horrendous torture, hear God say, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”  Hanging between criminals and mocked by soldiers, hear him whisper, “It is finished.”  Look at the cross, don’t turn away or turn to quickly to the empty tomb.  Our own reflection is bitter and unbecoming…but soon and very soon, it will be transfigured in the blood of Christ and the beauty of the cross, and the grace and goodness of God will be revealed. 

Amen.