CROSSED OUT – Carpenter worth less than the wood and nails?

The cross was not jewellery – it was  an obscenity. 2000 years ago if someone carved up your chariot on the road to Milan, you’d not stick two fingers or one finger or any other creative hand gesture. You’d make the sign of the cross in their direction. What starts and finishes many people’s prayers, began with an obscenity.

From http://www.designeau.com/thumbs/2013/01/12/jesus-on-cross-wallpaper-8370-hd-wallpapers.jpg

It was devised to be the most terrible  and humiliating way to die,  so that to say your leader went to a cross was the worst possible way to start a movement. It was foolishness to the Greeks and anathema to the Jews to say, ‘Our guy was crucified, come and join us.’ We cannot imagine the ‘Yuk’ factor that would bring to the common mind of the Roman empire which applauded the strength and might of its heroes.

Crucifixion was invented by the Phoenicians but perfected by the Romans and intended to be the most stigmatising (it has links to what we get the word stigmatising from), debasing and humiliating and agonizing experience. The idea was that NOBODY would ever want to be associated with anyone who died on a cross. There were lots of pretended Messiahs around at the time, but after the cross – nobody bothered to talk about any of them.

The cross, crossed people out. They didn’t matter anymore.

It was a death that deliberately stripped all dignity. You were belittled. That means you were being, littled.

After the death sentence was passed, the condemned person was stripped and paraded naked through the streets of the city, so that his punishment would be seen by all. The Jewish Law required that executions be made outside the city walls and the Romans accommodated this custom with criminals prominently put to death on a hill outside of Jerusalem. They wanted executions near well-travelled roads so all could see what became of any who were not a friend of Caesar.

You probably know how they had beaten this carpenter turned preacher, Jesus of Nazareth.  They flogged him with a whip laced with bone or lead to flay off the skin and bare the internals – they stuck his back together with a rough purple horse blanket and mocked him as they placed a crown of thorns upon his head and beat it into place with a stick. When they were finally tired of scorning him, they ripped off the ‘robe’ and put his own clothes on him again. Then they led him away to be crucified.

Literary sources detailing the history indicate that the condemned person would carry to the execution site only the heavy crossbar (stipes). Wood was scarce and the vertical pole (patibulum) was kept stationary and used repeatedly. As he stumbled toward his execution the soldiers would follow closely behind, whipping him along the way.

When they arrived at the place of execution, the criminal would be both nailed and tied by rope to the cross beam. Recent archaeology indicates nails only 4.5 inches long would be used, in fact re-examination of a famous crucifixion victim may indicate that just one nail driven through one heel bone would suffice to keep a man on a cross if he were then tied with ropes. We know that Jesus’ hands were pierced but still this carpenter would be worth less than the nails and the wood – they often didn’t want to use too many nails or ruin the wood with nail marks too quickly so would often use a rope to hold the upper body. The victim would slowly die of asphyxiation just the same.

The position made it progressively difficult to exhale. The word excruciating was coined from this terrible pain. His legs were bent and his feet or heels nailed near the base of the cross—so he could push his torso a few inches and gasp for breath, until the pain in his legs became unbearable and he collapsed again.

It was not uncommon for death to take two days. Whenever the authorities decided (for whatever reason) to expedite the criminal’s death, his legs would be broken so that he could no longer push himself up for breath, and he would suffocate within a matter of minutes. Jesus died before that happened to him.

Unlike medieval art depictions, the cross didn’t tower high above the crowd. The dying would experience the torment of dangling just above the ground, at eye level, so tormentors could easily spit in his face, or set the dogs on them. The word crucify literally means ‘impale on a plank.’ Throughout the history of the Roman Empire, untold thousands were executed in this fashion. In AD70 after a rebellion they crucified so many they ran out of wood and just nailed them to the walls. We only remember one cross.

But Jesus’ cross was inconsequential. The sign above his head ‘King of the Jews’ – a bitter irony. He was nothing. Crossed out. As Jesus hung there naked, beaten and bloody, they taunted him, even the thieves he was crucified together with mocked him; his enemies watching him die helpless as the soldiers gambled for his clothes alone must have made his claim seem laughable.

Leading religious figures applauded, saying, “Let this Messiah come down off the cross so that we can see it and believe in him.”

And his friends – those who had believed in him – their worlds were spinning out right of control, and everything going wrong… they’re asking ‘WHAT IS GOING ON?!’’

What was going on? The Bible tells us what at the time only heaven could see, in Philippians 2:

When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.

Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honour of God the Father.

Jesus Christ hung there – because everything hung on it.

He was there, not as the victim of circumstances beyond his control, but because he chose to lay down his life for the sake of the world. As he had said to his friends in so many ways as he predicted the detail of what would happen: I am the good shepherd….No one can take my life from me. I lay down my life voluntarily. I have the power to lay it down when I want to and also the power to take it again. (John 10)

As Jesus was arrested, he said to his disciples, “Don’t you realise that I am able right now to call to my Father, and twelve companies—more, if I want them—of fighting angels would be here, battle-ready? But if I did that, how would the Scriptures come true that say this is the way it has to be?” (Matthew 26:53)

He was saying ‘I could save myself ANY time, but if I did, how could YOU be saved?’

Jesus could have saved himself, any minute of that long Good Friday. But He could not save himself, because He wanted to save – you. Saving us, forgiving all our sins and giving us eternal life meant that he had to die on the cross to pay the price for your sins. It was not that HE was crossed out, but our sins were crossed out, forever.

And he was willing to do whatever it took, for that to happen. For the glory of his Father, and because he thinks we were worth it.

Jesus’ death on the cross is the only one that is remembered, the death symbol that brings life – because that’s what it took to bring about our reconciliation, and that was a price he was willing to pay. In the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus prayed, “If it is possible, take this cup from me” — but it was not possible. That cup could not be taken away… someone had to drink it. Him or us…

He did what it took. He took what it took. Despite all the power available to the Son of God, the King of kings, he knew he couldn’t save himself, because he wanted to save me and you.

(This is part of my notes from our Good Friday service yesterday – the talk in full will be available soon as a free podcast at www.ivymanchester.org/podcasts)

J. John reflects on Cumbria ‘Rampage’

My good friend J John has shared with me his reflections on the appalling tragedy in Cumbria – and gave me permission to share it with you.

Cumbria Tragedy

Few recent events have grabbed public attention in the UK more than the appalling random and brutal shootings in Cumbria in which Derrick Bird killed twelve people and wounded another eleven before turning his gun on himself.

These tragic events have shocked and perplexed us; the papers have been full of analysis in which the word evil has been unusually prominent. No attempt to deal with these events can avoid this aspect and so I offer some comments of my own. But before I do, let me offer a caution. Something in all human beings seeks explanation; indeed, the press has excelled itself at asking ‘Why?’ – and in not really providing an answer. Yet our first duty in such cases – however dramatic, however curious – is to show concern to the injured and bereaved. Showing compassion must come before seeking comprehension.
Let me say three things about evil in the context of the Cumbrian killings. The first is that this reminds us of the universal nature of evil. What has grabbed public attention on these killings has been the almost bizarre juxtaposition of brutality with normality. Evil struck in a very ordinary town, in a part of the world known to most Britons – if it is known at all – as a holiday location. It struck under the sunlit blue skies that supply the backdrop to our happiest memories. It struck down ordinary people who could easily have been our neighbours, friends or even family. The agent of evil was a man who was remarkable only for being unremarkable; an undistinguished taxi driver with friends, family and hobbies. Equally, none of those factors seem to have been present that we are told trigger violence: racism, poverty, unemployment and persecution were all absent. It was a crime with a single killer, a score of victims and no obvious motive. For these reasons, it was shocking. Yet for me as a Christian, while this eruption of evil into the world might be shocking, it is not surprising. The Bible teaches that evil is both so real and universal that all human beings are subject to its influence. The press has echoed this: the headline on one paper read ‘There is evil in all of us’. One of the great errors of the modern West has been to deny, despite abundant evidence, the fact that all human beings are flawed in the area of morality. We are all ‘sinners’ and only grace keeps evil in check. In life’s journey, we all travel closer to the precipice than we care to admit and on such a road it is wise to cling tight to God.
Secondly, evil is not the whole story. It has been said of certain people in business that they create their own ‘reality distortion field’ so that those close to them are no longer able to see accurately how things really are. I don’t know how true this is of individuals, but such killings certainly distort reality. Such random evil is so stunning and so sensational that we become focused on it. Through his murderous rampage of a few hours Derrick Bird managed to get page after page of press coverage for himself. In what is almost a parody of our celebrity-obsessed culture, violence made a nobody into a somebody. With evil and tragedy staring us in the face we need reminding that good is at work in the world too. Such things as the nurturing of children, the mending of bodies, the education of minds and even the planting of trees, are good things but they only whisper while evil shouts. Evil and violence draws the crowds and sells the papers, but we who are Christians and those who sympathise with our values should praise good in the world, however little and however unspectacular. One of the lesser joys of heaven will be the fact that evil is not only absent, but totally forgotten – what a relief.
Finally, let me encourage you to remember that evil is not the end of the story. One of the many blessings of being a Christian is that you are able to have a very different perspective on events such as this. If you hold to the view that this life is all there is, then the events in Cumbria are an utter tragedy without any redeeming feature. There is neither redemption for the sufferers nor judgement for the guilty: death obliterates both victim and perpetrator alike in the ultimate travesty of justice.

John Lennon’s ‘Imagine there’s no heaven’ is a notion with a bitter downside: the universe is utterly unjust. Yet as a Christian l am able to believe that the universe is indeed just, that there will be a final reckoning and that in Jesus Christ God’s grace triumphs over evil. In our grief and perplexity, let’s remember that evil doesn’t have the last word – God does.

Resident Evil

I’m getting ready to do a talk on Theodicy soon: that most difficult of questions perhaps – if God is good and all powerful, why is there so much evil and suffering in the world? I’ll put some links to it on the blog as and when – but evil’s not just a philosophical problem, it’s something we all have to deal with.

Just before the September 11 attack on America, a Newsweek cover story focused on the human capacity for evil. Author Sharon Begley wrote:

“In their search for the nature and roots of evil, scholars from fields as    diverse as sociology, psychology, philosophy and theology are reaching a…chilling conclusion. Most people do have the capacity for horrific evil.”

Psychologist Robert I. Simon, director of the program of   Psychiatry and Law at Georgetown University School of Medicine, says,”The capacity for evil is a human universal.”

Dr. Billy Graham once famously declared, “I know my own heart and its deceitful power. I know that outside of the restraining grace of God, there is no evil act I could not commit within thirty minutes of leaving the platform.”

We all condemn the evils of world terrorism, global greed, environmental destruction- rightly so. But what about the evil resident in our own hearts?

The film Nuremberg, is about the infamous trials of former Nazi leaders by the International Military Tribunal. In one powerful scene, Nazi defendant Hans Frank attempts to explain his actions to an Army psychologist.

“I tried to resign as Governor General of Poland. I did not approve of the persecution of the Jews. Anyone reading my diaries, they will know what was in my heart. They will understand that such things I wrote about Jews, the orders I signed, they were not sincere.”

“I believe you, Frank,” says the Doctor, “And yet, you did do those things. How do you explain it? I don’t mean legally; I’m not a lawyer or a judge. I mean how do you explain it to yourself?”

“I don’t know,” replies Frank. “It’s as though I am two people: the Hans Frank you see here, and Hans Frank the Nazi leader. I wonder how the other Frank could do such things. This Frank looks at that Frank and says, ‘You’re a terrible man.'”

“And what does that Frank say back?”

Frank replies, “He says, ‘I just wanted to keep my job.'”

Whenever I hear political leaders pontificating on ‘evil dictators’ who must be ‘rooted out by any and all means…” I recall that Alexander Solzhenitsyn said, “If only there were evil people somewhere, insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

It’s a strong word isn’t it? Evil. Some will read this post and say, “Speak for yourself, I’m a good person.”

Now if I were the standard of goodness – you’re probably entitled to say that, but what if the standard is the holiness of God? A God who is perfectly holy, whose holiness we cannot exaggerate? A God who commands our love and obedience together with self-sacrificial love for our neighbour? A God who has put himself on record as declaring that if you or I break just one commandment once, it’s as though we’ve broken them all!

For a prank, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once wrote to several of his friends the note, “All is discovered! Flee while you can!” All but one left the country.

Despite all this, we can know a God who passionately loves us, completely forgives and sacrificially restores us. Do you know him? A God who went to a cross himself to pay the price for every wrong or shameful thing we’ve ever done, thought or said. Do you know him?

A God who knows us at our worst – yet loves us best! Better than any human being ever loved us. The only God who can give us strength to resist temptation, deception, fear and guilt. Do you know him?

Someone said, “Jesus didn’t come to rub sin in, he came to rub it out!”

He doesn’t wait to condemn you. He wants to love you. Just like so many ordinary people in our community who are discovering these truths, I invite you. Come and know him

No possessions?

This coming Sunday I’ll be speaking on the line in Lennon’s Imagine when he said, “Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can, nothing to kill or die for, a brotherhood of man.”

Is money the root of all evil (as the Bible is often misquoted as saying?).

Are poor people in some sense better off?

Would the world be better if they just gave everyone the same, whether a little or a lot?

How long would that system last?

One of my readings is the famous story of the ‘Rich Young Ruler.’ He appears in all three of the Synoptic gospels, went away from Jesus sad, because he had a lot of money. Does more make you miserable?

Your thoughts and ideas appreciated, as I try to gather mine.