Good Friday–A Week Later

“Then they spit in His face and struck Him.  And some slapped Him, saying, ‘Prophesy to us, you Christ!  Who is it that struck you?’”  Matthew 26:67-68

Holy Week has always been a time of deep reflection for me.  Growing up in a liturgical setting – my family was deeply involved in the Episcopal Church as I was growing up – there were a lot of rich symbols and services to remind me each year of the reality of Jesus humanity in a way that only his suffering could.  Every Friday during Lent we were confronted with the stark evidence of Jesus’ frailty as a human.  He was beaten and mocked.  His body was bruised and lacerated.  His brow was pierced by many long thorns as the kingly crown was beaten down on His head.  And His hands and feet were impaled by nails that fastened Him to the wood of the cross.  If Jesus had not been entirely and completely human, none of these things would have been possible, and our salvation would have been an illusion.  I am grateful for the tradition that birthed in me the desire to contemplate the fact that God “emptied Himself”, as Paul declares in Philippians 2.

So this year during Holy Week I jumped forward in my exploration of the Gospel stories of Jesus and read the four gospel accounts of Jesus’ final hours.  As I got to this part of Matthew’s gospel, I was struck by the ferocity of anger in the words that were spoken.  “Prophesy to us, YOU CHRIST!”  It calls to mind those who profane the precious name of Jesus by using it as an expletive in crass conversation.  The irreverence of it is frightening – do they not fear God?

But then I was reminded of my often demanding heart toward God, the way that I often approach my Lord when things do not go the way I wanted them to.  The Jewish counsel had not come to Him to implore Him to act or to stir them up to worship Him, but merely to find some reason to accuse Him, to pin on Him the blame for something to which He was never party.  And this is what I find in my own heart.  When by my discontent I accuse Him of neglect, how am I any different from this mob of angry Jews?  When I demand in my heart that God act according to my expectations, am I not also saying, “Prophesy to me, YOU CHRIST!”  Complaining about God’s ways or His timing or His discipline is nothing more than a demand that God act according to our wishes.

Here Jesus is silent.  He does NOT prophesy in response to their taunting demands.  And though He often mercifully responds with comfort, God is often silent when we relate to Him in this way.  That is just.  How could we ever deserve in ourselves any other response from God?  We would do the same – silently ignore the unjust demands, or more likely lash out in disproportionate fury against the accuser.   But God is both just AND merciful, and there is no better proof of that than what we celebrate and remember on Good Friday.  The cross of Jesus Christ is the ultimate expression of both wrath and mercy – wrath poured out on Jesus, and mercy extended to us.

Soli Deo Gloria!