"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood."
--Hebrews 12:1-4 (NIV, 1984)

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Station 1: Pilate condemns Jesus to die | "Guilty" - by Brad McDermott

Guilt is powerful. I wonder what Barabbas felt when he stood there and watched Pontius Pilate make his final judgment against Jesus—guilty to death.

Was he happy-go-lucky, like Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean? Or did it strike him deep to the core of who he is with the realization that he does not deserve to go free? Somebody that had nothing to do with him previously was now going to die in his place. I wonder how I would’ve felt.

I know how uncomfortable it is when somebody does some small or large thing for me. I want to make up for it. I’m awkwardly appreciative. How does one say thank you for something so huge as accepting guilt for someone else?

Yet here, we’re asked to identify in some way with the first Station of the Cross: Jesus is condemned to death. In the story, this was Barabbas’ death. Jesus traded places with him. In our story, this was my death; He traded places with me.

This is the condemnation that Pontius Pilate bestowed on Jesus. What’s more is this guilt was administered on Him because of me and what I’ve done, and because of you and what you’ve done—the sin that we’ve committed. I often feel constrained by this kind of guilt. Unsure what to do with it. Very small and helpless. This is the opposite of what Jesus says very clearly that he came to give: life and life more abundantly.

I wonder how much we hold back with our feelings of guilt based on the possibility of how we give gifts. Do we give gifts with strings attached? Do we expect a thank you in return? Are we concerned if someone doesn’t notice our offerings to them?

The thing about Jesus is He doesn’t demand things from us, nor does He force us to even accept a gift. He simply offers it to us, and of course the gift is His Life.

It’s not clear what Barabbas did with his second chance, his freedom. But we get to choose what to do with ours.

We can trade with Jesus back and identify with the work that He did and does, the work that will bring life if done through Him and because of Him. We can allow Him to live the life that He wants to live by inviting Him to work in us and through us.
 
We get to be somewhat like our happy-go-lucky pirate who just slipped out the back door and on his way to a new adventure. But instead of raping and pillaging, we get to go around passing out free life for others like it was candy. In some ways, the cool part about it is we get to take people with us that never thought it would be possible to live the powerful, guilt-free life that Jesus has opened for us.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Station 1: Pilate condemns Jesus to die | "Dust" - by Miranda Dupree

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. For dust you are, and to dust you will return...

Here we are, beginning the oddity of Lentthat season so different from the others, the joyous holidays that sprinkle our calendar the rest of the year. This one's not without joy; really, we engage it knowing full well that we're looking forward to the most joyous day of all of themthe day when we celebrate madly that our Jesus has been raised.

But for now, we start here. We start with these words. We start with that peculiar anointing of ashes and oil on our heads, smeared in a shape that boasts more irony than any other I know. We start in repentance, and we start with a reminder that we are dust. What we put on our forehead isn't really that different from what we are ourselves, save one tiny detail: that our dust's been enlivened by the breath of God Himself.

That breath gives us beauty; it gives us will; it gives us telos (purpose). It even gives us voice, the ability to breathe on others. And yet we've used itwe've breathed itso...grievously.

Was it our voices that cried out on that Friday morning with the vehement Pharisees? "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Was it our shrug that joined with Pilate's in letting the mysterious King be tortured and killed because we were afraid of political angst? "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Was it our hands that nailed him to the crossthat cross that should have been our death? "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Was it our spear that pierced his stilled heart after all was done, our wonder that the Life-Breather had become a breathless corpsea pile of dust and blood and water? We crucified him... Gosh, I hope it was also our shudder as the Roman centurion realized what had been done: "Surely he was the Son of God!" (Matthew 27:54b, NIV 1984).

How is it that dust with a bit of breath in it can stand up and condemn its Creator? How is it that ashes can deem the One who fashioned the stars deserving of death by crucifixion?

Yet look at what the Lord said to Pilate: "You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above" (Jn. 19:11b, NIV).

He let dust condemn Him. He let ashes despise Him. He let the creatures who marred His image tear His flesh and pierce His heart. And He did it so that He could save us.

So here we are, "breathing dust," as C.S. Lewis put it in Perelandra. Ah, what were his words again? "'Look on him, beloved, and love him,' said the first [eldil]. 'He is indeed but breathing dust and a careless touch would unmake him. And in his best thoughts there are such things mingled as, if we thought them, our light would perish. But he is in the body of Maleldil and his sins are forgiven'" (1943, p. 167). The eldil, if you're wondering, is like an angel in the book; and Maleldil is, in that story, Christ.

And we? We're breathing dust. Forgiven, breathing dust. Forgiven because of the cross.

So now what? Now, we kneel. We place that cross in ashes on our foreheads. We wonder; we falter; we stumble; we sing. And somehow, in the midst of it all, we smile, knowing that the dark smear on our brow has become, because of Jesus, not just a glimpse of Roman cruelty but a terror to death itself. We will rise, just like our King has. But let us know, first, the way of the cross. Let us see, first, what it means that we're breathing dust. Let's start herestart by recognizing that dust wasn't supposed to condemn its Creator. But, ah, Grace, you weren't supposed to free us either. What ironies abound when dust meets its Maker...

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Station 1: Pilate condemns Jesus to die

Mark 15:1-15 (NIV, 1984)

Very early in the morning, the chief priests, with the elders, the teachers of the law and the whole Sanhedrin, reached a decision. They bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate.

"Are you the king of the Jews?" asked Pilate.

"Yes, it is as you say," Jesus replied.

The chief priests accused him of many things. So again Pilate asked him, "Aren't you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of."

But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed.

Now it was the custom at the Feast to release a prisoner whom the people requested. A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did.

"Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?" asked Pilate, knowing it was out of envy that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have Pilate release Barabbas instead.

"What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?" Pilate asked them.

"Crucify him!" they shouted.

"Why? What crime has he committed?" asked Pilate.

But they shouted all the louder, "Crucify him!"

Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.