Fifth Station: Jesus judged by Pilate

But what crime has he committed? Pilate asked. They shouted all the louder, ‘Crucify him!’ Pilate wanted to please the crowd, so he set Barabbas free for them. Then he had Jesus whipped and handed him over to be crucified. [GNB Mark 15.14-15]

All in a day’s work for Pilate, it was. Not the crowd-pleasing, but walking the political tightrope of excessive control and social disorder. I’m writing this on a day when the BBC Breakfast News is discussing whether schools in this country are agents of social engineering or simply of good, old-fashioned learning, whatever that is.

Pilate was certainly afraid of riot, and so are we. And, fearing it, we want to explain it, police it, punish it, restore order for those of us who consider ourselves decent citizens. As if our citizenship stood separate from the social construction in which we all live.

In Jesus’ case, he’s the pawn of a social construct which sweeps all before it, the Pax Romana, the much vaunted reason for the Roman Empire, its peace and order and well-oiled military and economic machinery. What does one person count in that setting? Not much at all, especially if he’s a Palestinian around whom there always seems to be the whiff of trouble. Who can blame Pilate for that?

Yet we are offended that Jesus became a pawn of the games of others, and so we should be. We must always be offended when systems are privileged over people, outcomes over values, expediency over love. And as we are offended, perhaps we need to be reminded that it’s all too easy for us, in the little worlds that we inhabit, to make everything fit our systems, our expediency, our outcomes. Those things that make life comfortable or maybe just bearable, need to be set aside for the sake of the ‘other’, the one who doesn’t count. We who inhabit the Kingdom of God need to learn to live in it especially when it becomes uncomfortable, and when we are tempted back into the simpler, broader path of worldly comfort.

Lord Jesus, you were condemned to death for political expediency:

be with those who are imprisoned for the convenience of the powerful.

You were the victim of unbridled injustice:

change the minds and motivations of oppressors and exploiters to your way of peace.

To you, Jesus, innocent though condemned,

be honour and glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit,

now and for ever.

Fourth Station: Peter denies Jesus

Just then a rooster crowed a second time, and Peter remembered how Jesus had said to him, ‘Before the rooster crows two times, you will say three times that you do not know me.’ And he broke down and cried. [GNB Mark 14.72]

One verse says so much. One moment of panic changed Peter’s life; one slip, which actually made no difference to Jesus’ journey towards Calvary, though it made it an even lonelier journey.

Imagine your sins being written into the narrative of God’s redeeming work with humanity. We could let our imaginations run riot over Peter’s thoughts now: a wry smile perhaps, or we hope that he’s so taken up with looking at the glory of God that all that’s past?

However, it’s better to look at our response to shame, our sense of letting ourselves down, which is where this episode left Peter. He’s the rock on which the church is to be built. Certainly in one major tradition of the scripture material, he’s the first apostle, but he’s a fractured vessel, a cracked pot, a blunt instrument for the work of God. In essence, he’s St Punctured Pride Peter. And so are we.

We spend quite a lot of our time thinking of ourselves as fundamentally OK folks, glad to be blessed by the grace of God. And then the momentary lapse which cannot be called back. The words are out in the public domain, and the relationship will never be the same again. At the point of our shame, we know ourselves as we actually are before God, naked, empty, lost, the shame of Adam and Eve is our shame.

Extraordinarily, this point, when Peter weeps, when we lament our lost innocence (an innocence we never had) is the point at which God really begins to do business with us. We discover grace: love that does not measure us by our actions; the gift of reconciliation though we don’t deserve it. And in our tears, as we watch Jesus watching us, we find a new and more honest way to live, the way of the redeemed sinner, ever indebted, ever grateful, never doubtful of God, because it does not depend any more on anyone’s opinion of our actions, not even ours.

Lord Jesus, as Peter betrayed you,

you experienced the double agony of love rejected and friendship denied:

be with those who know no friends and are rejected by society.

You understood the fear within Peter:

help us to understand the anxieties of those who fear for their future.

To you, Jesus, who gazed with sadness at your lost friend,

be honour and glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit,

now and for ever.

Jesus is condemned by the Sanhedrin: The Third Station

Third Station: Jesus condemned by the Sanhedrin

⁵⁵ The chief priests and the whole Council tried to find some evidence against Jesus in order to put him to death, but they could not find any.⁵⁶ Many witnesses told lies against Jesus, but their stories did not agree.

 ⁵⁷ Then some men stood up and told this lie against Jesus:⁵⁸

We heard him say,
I will tear down this Temple which men have made, and after three days I will build one that is not made by men.⁵⁹ Not even they, however, could make their stories agree.

 ⁶⁰ The High Priest stood up in front of them all and questioned Jesus,

Have you no answer to the accusation they bring against you?

 ⁶¹ But Jesus kept quiet and would not say a word. Again the High Priest questioned him,

         Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed God?

 ⁶²
I am, answered Jesus,
 and you will all see the Son of Man seated at the right side of the Almighty and coming with the clouds of heaven!

 ⁶³ The High Priest tore his robes and said,

         We don't need any more witnesses!⁶⁴ You heard his blasphemy. What is your decision?
         

   They all voted against him: he was guilty and should be put to death. [Mark 14.55-64]

We are all familiar with the injustice of Jesus’ trial: his assumed guilt was a foregone conclusion in the minds of his accusers, so all they had to do was to pile criticism upon criticism until it turned into a case in their minds. Much more convenient than simply saying, ‘Let’s just murder him; that way he’ll never cause trouble again.’

What’s more difficult is to work out what Jesus might have been thinking. None of us is content simply to stand by and take false accusation after false accusation. But in Jesus’ case, he knew that this was God’s will, the journey of redemption, the task for which he had come into this world. I can’t really believe, however, that he simply stood there and thought, ‘This is all going my way.’

Rather, I guess that he was deeply weighed down by the injustice of it all, but the greatest weight was the sense that he was carrying the injustice on behalf of all whom he loved; that he was beginning to be ‘bruised for our transgressions.’ So the inner battle was a twofold one, against the human desire to be rid of pain, whether physical or psychological, and against the weight of ‘the sins of the whole world’. I have a vivid word picture of Jesus standing there, sin upon sin being piled upon him until his whole being shakes under the pressure, and still he stands.

Two more things: none of these people had a clue what he was doing, and it must have been the  loneliest place in the world. We, who mostly need someone to hold our hands in order to bear the simplest pain, watch him whose hand no one held. And last for now, what did it cost him to find the strength to go on proclaiming the truth of his vocation: I am the Messiah, and you will all see the Son of Man…

Lord Jesus, you were the victim of religious bigotry:

be with those who are persecuted by small-minded authority.

You faced the condemnation of fearful hearts:

deepen the understanding of those who shut themselves off from the

experience and wisdom of others.

To you, Jesus, unjustly judged victim,

be honour and glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit,

now and for ever.

Jesus is betrayed by Judas and arrested - the 2nd station

Ely Cathedral

⁴³ Jesus was still speaking when Judas, one of the twelve disciples, arrived. With him was a crowd armed with swords and clubs and sent by the chief priests, the teachers of the Law, and the elders.⁴⁴ The traitor had given the crowd a signal:

“The man I kiss is the one you want. Arrest him and take him away under guard.”

 ⁴⁵ As soon as Judas arrived, he went up to Jesus and said,

“Teacher!” and kissed him.⁴⁶ So they arrested Jesus and held him tight. [Mark 14.43-46 Good News Bible]

Judas has fascinated us since the earliest days, and we all want to know why he did it, as if to understand motive justified the action. Sin explained is sin justified, we seem to imply. The other thing we do with Judas is to use him as the scapegoat. We point the finger, wash our hands, and walk away.

All this raises for me the more important question, which is where I locate myself in this freeze-frame. Who am I in the crowd? How shall I choose to orient myself towards Jesus? The truth is that every time I read these words, I find myself in a different place, and it’s this dithering uncertainty that is characteristic of so much that goes on around Jesus in the passion story. Most of the protagonists in this drama are ditherers, and I identify with them easily.

Mostly, I react, whereas Jesus, with immense human dignity and divine sense of purpose sets his face towards Jerusalem, and acts. Sure, he stands passively while people react towards him with kisses, hugs, scourges, stinging words and the rest. But he stands in the certainty that all of this is furthering the action of God, in which he shares: Your will, Father, and mine, are in the end the same will. I will be delivered over to the hands of sinful humanity…

And in his acceptance of his destiny, he acts for my sin and the sin of the world, decisively and finally. This is his desired outcome, and it will be accomplished. So as the story unfolds over the next few days, bring your dithering, your doubt and your uncertainty into conversation with the certainty of the love and grace of God made known to us in Christ Jesus. Be glad that the chief actor in this drama – true man and true God – responds to our undignified and sullied reactions with the supreme act of grace: the cross.

Lord Jesus, you were betrayed by the kiss of a friend:
be with those who are betrayed and slandered and falsely accused.
You knew the experience of having your love
thrown back in your face for mere silver:
be with families which are torn apart by mistrust or temptation.
To you, Jesus, who offered your face to your betrayer,
be honour and glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit,
now and for ever.Amen.

Prayer (c) Archbishops' Council 2012

Following Jesus through the stations of the cross

Over Holy Week, we are going to post short reflections on each of the biblical Stations of the Cross, with prayers that you might like to use. Do join us on this journey.

1^st Station: Jesus in agony in the Garden of Gethsemane

They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, ‘Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.’

Mark’s account of the garden prayers is the more shocking, because it comes immediately after Peter’s protestation that he will never forsake Jesus: he said vehemently, ‘Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.’ And then he falls asleep. Peter, the master of the grand gesture, who so often, like me, seems to miss the small detail of discipleship: just sit here while I pray, says Jesus. Remain here. Not too tall a talk. Keep awake.

The small things in our following Jesus are the most symptomatic of the health of our spiritual life, and the details determine the trajectory of our journey of faith. It’s worth the mathematically-minded among you remembering that one degree of movement to the left or right takes us hundreds of miles off course. No wonder Jesus spoke about a narrow path leading to eternal life, lest we lose our way.

Now let’s look briefly at the components of Jesus’ prayer at the beginning of the crisis of his last days:

1.      He names God intimately, confidently, as one in relationship with him. We too can speak the language of Jesus in prayer.

2.      He tells the truth about God: for you all things are possible. This is what praise is: not flattery, not exaggeration. Just the simple truth, and it’s a perfect model for our praise.

3.      He makes a request, and then – almost as quickly – withdraws it. Well, not quite. He is honest with God, doesn’t beat about the bushes: remove this cup. At the same time, however, he speaks with courtesy to the one who know best, and whose will must be done for the sake of the world’s salvation.

And here too we learn from Jesus, to be bold, to be honest, but to be willing for it all to happen another way. Just stay awake long enough to pray this prayer, with its three simple components: My God, you are great. Help me, and help me your way...

Lord Jesus, you entered the garden of fear, and faced the agony of your impending death:

be with those who share that agony nd face death unwillingly this day.

You shared our fear and knew the weakness of our humanity:

give strength and hope to the dispirited and despairing.

To you, Jesus, who sweated blood, be honour and glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit,

now and forever. Amen.

Prayer (c) Archbishops' Council 2012 from Times and Seasons page 239 

Where your strength comes from

…and for this reason I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust [confided], and I am sure [persuaded] that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. 2 Timothy 1.12

The word ‘confidence’ occurs 15 times in the New Testament, and 5 of those occurrences are in 2 Corinthians [5 are in Hebrews and the rest in other Pauline writings]. But the root of the word is the verb ‘to persuade’, and when you realize this, you realize also just how deeply embedded the idea of confidence is in the scriptures:

1.      God acts powerfully;

2.      We are persuaded by what we have seen and heard;

3.      We are filled with confidence;

4.      We are persuaded that what God has done will continue until the Kingdom come;

5.      We are transformed by God’s confidence in us and through us, and proclaim the gospel boldly.

Let me now briefly unwrap ‘confidence’ in 2 Corinthians. The argument is this:

1.      God redeems;

2.      We are given confidence/we are persuaded;

3.      Confidence is embedded in us;

4.      With that confidence, we act in the same way towards others.

This is acted out for starters in chapter 1, where – in response to his critics who accuse him of dithering – Paul reminds his hearers that they can have confidence in God’s ‘Yes’. God does not vacillate, is not changeable, does not dither. For in Christ every one of God’s promises is a ‘Yes.’ And, Paul says, because God only says ‘Yes’, you can have confidence in us his servants, for we live in the light of that ‘Yes’.

In the next chapter, he underlines the fact that our confidence in God’s Yes comes by way of Christ’s triumphal procession: we are redeemed by the saving work of Christ. As in chapter 1, we are led to understand that this confidence leads to transformed lives: new creations. The metaphor here is the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing. We who have confidence in the work of God become part of God’s ongoing work of redeeming humanity.

The 3^rd chapter speaks of confidence in terms of the new covenant, again rooting it in the redeeming blood of Christ. Such in the confidence that we have through Christ towards God. [3.4] This new covenant, which removes the veil, enables us to see the glory of God, and (again, in case we haven’t yet got it), we are told that God’s glory transforms us: from one degree of glory to another.

After a reality check in chapter 4 about our weakness and suffering, Paul comes back to the theme of glory: Though we suffer now, we are being prepared for an eternal weight of glory. Glory and confidence are fully interlinked, of course, because our confidence comes from the glory of God revealed in Jesus Christ.  And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. [John 1.14]

The 1^st part of chapter 5 deals with the resurrection of the body: in the middle of it, though he is assured that he will be raised, he abandons everything for the sake of his pure confidence in God: Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. [5.8]

By the time we reach 5.14, Paul has repeatedly hammered home the two parallels:

Confidence in God is placed alongside our own brokenness

Confidence in Christ’s redeeming work leads to our transformation and reconciling work

So here’s your homework!

1.      Ask yourself how confident you are. If you are confident, be careful that it’s not self-confidence that you’re dealing with. If you’re unconfident, then know that you can depend on God alone.

2.      Knowing that in Christ we are a new creation, think about the fact that you are already changed – you are a likeness of a saint! How can you let this new creation shine out of you without striving to be nice, or good, or artificially holy?

3.      Do you really, really believe that the gates of hell will not prevail against Christ’s Church? Or are you wasting a lot of missional time worrying about the death-throes of old institutional patterns?

4.      Are you confident in God and his Church, or in God despite his Church?

Practically pursuing holiness

The call to holiness is terrifying at the best of times. The Bible enjoins us to be holy, because God is holy, regularly repeated in the Old Testament, picked up in 1 Peter 1.16: for it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy. Even more daunting are Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, calling us to be perfect as our heavenly Father is.

It’s not terrifying because I don’t understand it, but because I do. I am to be like God: there are no two ways about it. It’s not a warning so much as a given, a lifestyle command to the disciples of the Kingdom. And because I know myself only too well, it’s a command to a movement, a process, a journey, a dynamic change in which I expose my life to the gaze of those around me, so that they can help me to identify areas of work and potential growth.

It’s a work that the Holy Spirit must enable: the fruits of the Spirit listed by Paul in Galatians 5 are after all, fruits of the Spirit, with the emphasis boldly put on God. My part is played by collaborating with God, and I want to suggest some additional and very practical ways of pursuing an feeding a holy life in the everyday things this Lent.

1. At the beginning of the day, pray for the events of the day (so far as you know them) one by one. In so doing, you will enter those appointments and actions with the will to do them in the power of God. 
2. At the end of each day, respond thankfully to these actions and events by ‘counting your blessings, one by one.’ In so doing, you will create an inner environment of gratitude which will be likely to generate gracious attitudes in your thought and speech for several days to come. 
3. Identify one person to encourage by your true words. Don’t use flattery, and don’t overplay your words of encouragement, or they will sound hollow. It might simply be a compliment, or the voicing of a good thought about a sermon. How many of us never say thank you to the preacher! 
4. Look for one piece of good news on your favourite news channel, and make a note to talk about it to someone in the next few days. One I found today was that Atlantic Records is giving £26 million to Oxford University for student scholarships in the humanities. It’s hidden low down on the website, but it’s there.
5. Send one less email, and make a lot of people happy.

 I’d love to know what else you do to cultivate a personal environment of holy attitudes which lead to holy actions, so do please add your comments.