When Jesus sweated blood in the Garden of
Gethsemane and asked his Father to let the cup of suffering pass him by he wasn’t,
for the most part, cringing before the prospect of brute physical suffering. He
was cringing before the prospect of a very particular kind of suffering that is
generally more feared than physical pain. Crucifixion was designed to humiliate
the person. Among other things, the person was stripped naked before being hung
on a cross so that his genitals would be publicly exposed. As well, at the
moment of death his bowels would loosen. Crucifixion clearly had humiliation in
mind.
We have tended to downplay this aspect, both in
our preaching and in our art. We have surrounded the cross with roses, with
aesthetic and antiseptic wrapping towels. But that was not the case for Jesus.
His nakedness was exposed, his body publicly humiliated. That is why many of his
disciples abandoned Jesus and scattered after the crucifixion. They simply
couldn’t connect this kind of humiliation with glory, divinity, and triumph.
What experiences in your life have you felt
ashamed, a powerlessness from which you were unable to protect yourself, an
abuse from which you could not defend yourself, an inadequacy of body or mind
that has left you vulnerable, a humiliating incident that once happened to you,
or some mistake you made that publicly exposed your lack of knowledge or strength
in some area.
I was on my tractor yesterday planning to turn
over the manure pile from the winter. No sooner had I moved the manure pile
that I found my front and back tires spinning in the manure and mud. I rolled
my eyes and thought to myself “this can’t be.” I tried to roll the tractor back and
forth but it was stuck in the manure. Desperate, I got some wood boards to
insert under the tires but it made no difference. Frustrated and exhausted
after an hour and half, I got the chains to pull the tractor and discovered that
I did not know how to hook them up. Humiliated, I called my neighbor for help.
He came with two trucks figuring I was stuck in some ditch. When he came to the
my side, I got back into the tractor and he said, “ did you put it four wheel drive.”
No, I forgot that I have four wheel drive. Embarrassed, the tractor was out of the muddy patch in seconds and this priest
was redeemed and humiliated. My friend told me not to worry, you are
not a farmer who does this work for a living. I'm glad that you were not hurt
when you called for help.
There are moments when we feel up to our necks in
manure and wonder how will we get ourselves out of this smelly mess.
What is the connection between this type of pain
and the glory of Easter Sunday? Why is it, as the gospels say, “necessary to
first suffer in this manner so as to enter into glory?”
Because, paradoxically, a certain depth of soul
can only be attained through a certain depth of humiliation. How and why is
this so? It isn’t easy to articulate rationally but we can understand this
through experience:
All of us, like Jesus, have been, in one way or
another, hung up publicly and humiliated. In these helpless moments we attain a
depth of soul.
Humiliation can makes us deep in character,
understanding, graciousness, and forgiveness or we can be deep in anger,
bitterness, revenge seeking, and murder. Jesus’ crucifixion stretched his heart
and made it huge in empathy, graciousness, and forgiveness. But it doesn’t
always work that way.
Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who have
felt the wounds of humiliation and shame from their family and friends. Help us
to handle that wound not with bitterness but forgiveness.
