The Way of the Cross, Part 1

The story of the crucifixion is always a story I don’t want to read. I avoid it as much as I can. And yet, especially at this time of year, it draws me in.

Prepared by the Father

I don’t want to read it, you see, because I don’t want to know the price Jesus had to pay for my sin. I don’t want to know what he means when he defines love: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). I don’t even want to know necessarily Jesus’ definition of friendship, or even what he means when he says, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10b).

I don’t want to know these things, because my idea of friendship is camaraderie, but without the cost. My idea of abundant life is a life free of pain and suffering. My idea of love is mutual tenderness, intimacy, companionship without having the difficulty that inevitably brings people together into that deep place of intimacy.

But you see, Jesus has never been this and wants none of this. He is walking out a way that has been prepared for him by his Father. And it’s not a bad ending to a life of love. It is the inevitable consequence of a life that is spoken of as sacrifice.

Love as sacrifice. Friendship as sacrifice. Even abundant life as sacrifice. 

Invited by the Son

If they had been listening, none of the disciples should have been surprised. But I can’t point my finger at them and say, “Why weren’t you listening?” because I’ve only heard the gospel most of my life. And it’s still not what I want to hear either.

I’d much rather we define and live life on my terms. And that’s the kind of world we live in. We want to talk about not commitment in suffering, but loyalty that is based on one’s feelings. If someone offends us, we act like the woman who told me that when someone angered her, she would just say, “I have no time for this.” And then she simply moved on.

But Jesus comes and keeps coming. No matter how hard I try to avoid the suffering inherent to the gospel, he continues to invite me to Golgotha, to see on the cross his definition of abundant life, of what love is, of what friendship is, a life prepared for him by his Father.

You see, that’s not even my definition of fatherhood. I’m a dad, I’m a grandfather. It never even occurred to me that when my now-grown sons were growing up that a part of my responsibility as a dad was to prepare them for the inevitability of suffering because of their commitments to Jesus Christ. It never occurred to me. After all, persecution is what happens to people who live in other countries.

And yet the applications here are inescapable. Jesus is inviting us in.

“Mercifully grant,” the Book of Common Prayer says, “that we may walk the way of the cross and find it none other than the way of life and peace.”

If we are to walk in faithfulness to Jesus, we look to him as the one who is inviting us into this way of suffering. And we know that the price he paid for our sins is exactly what enables us to receive both the forgiveness and the empowerment necessary to continue to say yes, no matter what is being asked of us, knowing that we can trust in the goodness of our Father, who has prepared this weight for us.

What does “the way of the cross” mean to you? Share this blog and your response on Twitter. Please include my username, @revgregbrewer.

(This post is an adaption of Bishop Brewer’s Good Friday sermon on March 30, 2018, at St. Luke’s Cathedral, Orlando, Florida.)

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.