Gathered at the Foot of the Cross

A Good Friday Meditation

Here we are again,

gathered at the foot of the cross,

our gaze fixed

on the figure fixed on the wood.

Beaten, bruised, bloody, broken;

here is revealed the Mystery at the heart of all,

the author of creation.

What can be said

if this is the truest image?

This is almighty God,

Ruler of the universe?

It is mind-breaking.

It is heart-boggling.

It is tongue-disarticulating.

What does this cock-eyed king,

ruling from this splinter throne,

reveal?

Only this:

“O God, you declare your almighty power chiefly in showing mercy and pity.”

If not only, chiefly.

Whatever God’s holiness, justice, sovereignty, or authority mean,

whatever we think such things mean,

they are dying before our eyes.

They might return on Sunday.

But transfigured.

Fixed on the cross, 

God is revealed 

chiefly to be on the side

not of the powerful, the rich, the beautiful, the successful,

not the self-righteous or the self-satisfied,

not those in the know; 

but chiefly on the side of 

the numb and confused

the battered and bruised

the poor, the meek, the lowly.

the tortured and terrorized,

the oppressed.
The powerless and the poor in spirit.

This is the Mystery revealed.

But more is revealed.

And more disturbing.

The figure fixed to the cross,

on whom our gaze is fixed,

gazes back.

Fixing his gaze on us,

he reveals us to ourselves.

And what is revealed?

Humanity.

Each of us.

All of us together.

From our earliest days,

we have been at the foot of the cross.

We are all neighbors.

This is our common stomping ground.

We are united as members of the crucifying mob

Each of us. Every. One.

All of us together.

We were meant for another locale,

a different kind of community.

Common unity.

Harmony

The Garden of Delight.

The City of God.

But we moved away.
Went astray.

If we did not know before
into what neighborhood we had moved,
now we know.
And here we are,
the crowd gathered
at the foot of the cross.

The common heirs of Cain,

we are marked.
Marked with envy and enmity,
here we are,

gathered in the neighborhood of the cross.

We are the taunters and accusers.

We are the betrayers, deniers, abandoners.

(We are not the Blessed Mother or the Beloved Disciple. Not yet.)

Those are our bloody fingerprints on the hammer and nails.

Yours. Mine. Ours.

How so?

It is not just God on the cross,

mysteriously revealed in Jesus.

Mysteriously revealed in Jesus,

is all humankind.

We do to him

only what we have already done 
to one another.

What we do to one another

we do to him.

"Truly I tell you,

 just as you did it to one of the least of these

who are members of my family,

you did it to me.”

It is mind-breaking.

It is heart-boggling.

It is tongue-disarticulating.

What we do to one another,

we do to him.

That is the fix we are in,

which has fixed him to wood.

And we hammer away.

All selfishness and pride – whack

All envy and malice – whack

All slothful neglect of loving God – whack

All slothful neglect of loving neighbor – whack

All greed, gluttony, and lust – whack, whack, whack

Every disdainful thought, word, or deed – whack, whack, whack

Every violent thought – whack

Every violent intention – whack

Every violent word – whack

Every violent action – whack

All torture and terror – whack

All that is not love – whack

All that is not mercy – WHACK

We fix one another to the cross.

We are the taunters and accusers of one another.

We are the betrayers, deniers, and abandoners of one another

Our bloody fingerprints are on the hammer and nails.

He said that when he was lifted up,
he would draw all people 
to himself.
And here we are,
gathered, all together, 
at the foot of the cross.

Fixed on the cross where we have fixed him,

the battered figure

fixes his gaze on us.

No good claiming innocence.
No good claiming ignorance.

Each fingerprint,

like every hair,

is known.

No good pointing accusingly at others

“Their fingerprints are more!”

The revealing gaze will not be diverted

from me,

from you,

from us.
We are all in this together.

And yet . . .

That fixed gaze

is power-full

of mercy and pity.

In that gaze, we are known,

guilty, fingerprints and all,

unable to save ourselves.

In that gaze, we are also known

fixed to the cross ourselves,

wounded and scarred,

unable to heal ourselves.

The figure, fixed to the cross,

fixes his gaze on you, on me.
It is a gaze of sorrow and love.

This cock-eyed King, 

this slaughtered Lamb,

this Mystery at the heart of all, 
revealed,

knows what we have been up to, 

things done

and left undone,

And, still, he reveals his almighty power,

his implacable judgment,

chiefly

in showing mercy and pity.

“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”