What Are You Looking For? Part 1: The Nicene Creed

He Was Crucified

He was crucified

            I’ve been Protestant.  Now I’m Roman Catholic.  One of the things I love about being Roman Catholic is the Crucifix.  In the Protestant tradition, people wear crosses.  The reason for the empty cross is to emphasize the Resurrection.  I prefer the Crucifix.  Before the Resurrection, came the Crucifixion.  Without the cross, there would be no Resurrection.  But even as Roman Catholics, we have made the Crucifixion into something neat and pretty.  Crucifixes are beautifully crafted out of precious metals.  The cross was hastily cut rough wood.  Sometimes crosses are studded with jewels.  The cross was covered in blood and bodily fluids.  In paintings, the Risen Christ has more “blood” on his hands and feet where the nails were, than the Crucified Christ does where the nails are.  Typically, on a crucifix the only blood is a little bit where the spear pierced his side.  Now I’m not saying we should hang realistic crucifixes over the altar in our churches.  That would terrify the children.  What I am saying is that we can’t allow ourselves to make the suffering of Jesus on the cross into something neat and pretty because it makes us more comfortable.  It wasn’t neat and it wasn’t pretty. 

            One of the commands of Jesus that people found most horrifying was when he told his followers that they had to “take up your cross and follow me.”  Today it’s hard for us to comprehend just how humiliating such a command would be.  After two thousand years, it’s a reference we have a hard time truly comprehending.  Everyone in Jesus day knew what a crucifixion looked like.  What it had smelled like.  What it sounded like.  No matter how hard they may have tried to avoid coming across a crucifixion in progress, it’s likely everyone had seen at least one.  Or walked by a victim on a cross.  It was a long drawn out public execution.  And the Romans used it a lot. 

            Prior to the actual crucifixion itself, the guilty would be scourged.  The scourging would tear strips of flesh from the body.  Then there would be a time, sometimes a day or so, between the beating (which almost killed the guilty) and the actual carrying of the cross to the site of the execution.  Which means those wounds would be torn open again by the chaffing of the wood on the scabs.  In Jesus case, according to the scripture, there was no delay.  Or not much of one.  On top of that, he was beaten by the guards at every turn.  That also, probably, wasn’t so unusual.  Why treat someone with kindness when they are condemned, or about to be condemned to be tortured to death?  The accounts of Jesus’ Passion tell of him being slapped and spit upon.  Those weren’t little wimpy slaps.  He was beaten with fists.  He was crowned with thorns.  Long spikey thorns that pierced his scalp all the way to the bone.  And the crown was not removed.  Therefore every turn of his head tore fresh wounds in his scalp.  The pressure of the wood of the cross on his head would have caused them to dig in even deeper. 

            This wasn’t just some ordinary man this happened to.  This was the Son of God.  “Begotten of the Father before all ages.”  The very men he created killed him.  Tortured him.  Murdered him.  We murdered him.  He felt every pain any man would feel.  He felt abandoned when he looked out and only saw St. John, his Blessed Mother and a few others.  Even most of his closest friends weren’t there.  Son of God and Son of Man suffered.  Out of love for us, to make a way for us to come to the Father, he suffered.

            When he commanded us to take up our cross, he knew just what he was asking of us.  Those who were there knew just what he was asking of them.  Two thousand years later, we have softened the command.  Taking up our cross doesn’t have the same meaning for us as it did for them because crucifixions aren’t part of our cultural experiences.  He was crucified.  That’s why I wear a crucifix.  To always remind me.  To remind me that’s what love looks like.  To remind me if the Son of God and Son of Man suffered, who am I to think that I shouldn’t have to?

            The crucifixion of Jesus wasn’t neat and pretty.  But it was necessary.  Without the cross, there would be no resurrection.  Before you can have an empty tomb, you must first have an occupied tomb.