In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them.
2 Corinthians 5:19
Many years ago, I served a parish whose Good Friday Liturgy included a dramatic reading of St. John’s Passion Gospel. Parishioners were assigned parts. Someone played Pontius Pilate, another Peter, others the bystanders who accuse Peter of being a follower of Jesus, others the religious leaders who had arrested Jesus and demanded his death, still others the soldiers gathered around the cross, another Jesus himself. The whole congregation gave voice to the angry mob: “Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!”
After I had served in the parish for several years, I noticed that one prominent parishioner never attended the Good Friday Liturgy. Never. This was a person who faithfully worshiped every Sunday. His faith was strong and vibrant. And so, finally, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked the question. “John, why don’t you come to church on Good Friday?”
His answer was quick and forceful. “Because I didn’t do it!” he said. “I didn’t crucify Jesus. They did it. It’s not my fault. No one’s going to make me say, ‘Crucify him!’ when it was those people 2,000 years ago who are the guilty ones.”
I have no memory of how I responded to John. He certainly caught me off guard. But if I could time travel back to that conversation, I would remind my friend of St. Paul’s words: “I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures” (1 Cor. 15:3). Or even more dramatically, “The life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). In other words, the New Testament makes it clear that Jesus died for us. He’s on the cross because we put him there – our sins, our rebellion, our inborn tendency to turn our backs on the God of the Universe.
But contained in that painful reality is the best news of all: Jesus’ death restores us to the Father. The slate is wiped clean. “In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them” (2 Cor. 5:19).
A Holy Week hymn captures this reality in a powerful way:
Ah, holy Jesus, how hast thou offended,
That man to judge thee hath in hate pretended?
By foes derided, by thine own rejected,
O most afflicted.
But lest we try to escape our own complicity in Jesus’ death, the hymn adds:
Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee.
‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee,
I crucified thee.
Yet the hymn ends with great good news:
Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay thee,
I do adore thee, and will every pray thee,
Think on thy pity and thy love unswerving,
Not my deserving.
God bless you!
Bishop Ed Little
