So I went to the Three Hour Devotion at Yorkminster again this year. I took the precaution of reviewing some of my previous Good Friday musings for fear of repeating myself. Too late though, it seems I already have.
But I guess that is the point of a calendar. Each year sort of repeats. It is a cycle, and again, I am drawn to the image of the suffering deity on Good Friday. I have noted before that our culture urges us to turn our gaze away from suffering: out of sight and out of mind. Everything is in terms of victory and battling to victory. And for those who do not achieve that victory or make every effort toward it, well… we eye them suspiciously as flawed and perhaps even undeserving.
I am certainly not berating those who overcome. My heart glows when I witness someone overcoming adversity. It is wholly inspiring. But the human condition is not victory after victory. There are dark days of defeat. And sometimes, we must yield to horrible and unfair situations. Not because it is right… but because we do not always get what we would hope for.
I remember the story of one of the victims of the Boston marathon bombing returning to dance after months of gruesome rehab, a truly inspiring story. But I work in this field. I know that for every person like that dancer, there are ten that will not return to a previous activity. The nature of some injuries or illnesses means that some will just never have the opportunity. But that makes them no less human. And it is not helpful to hold them and their loved ones to an impossible standard. We are not all getting the Hollywood ending.
We are addicted to victory and the illusion that everything can be defeated with enough willpower and devotion. We battle everything. But the truth is, victory is not inevitable. Real humans lose battles; real humans are in situations that require accepting adversity. We all must tread the adversity path at some point.
On the first Good Friday between 12 and 3, for the family and followers of Jesus, there was no battling to victory. A person nailed to a cross in Roman-occupied Judea meant only one thing. Even Jesus saw no way out at the time according to his words from the cross. There was no battling to victory on the first Good Friday. There was no Easter Sunday on that Friday afternoon. That day was all just horrible and horrific.
To me, that moment is the most authentically human one in the whole of the gospel story. There are injuries and diseases we cannot fix. It is part of the human condition. And even when we can fix them, it is not instantaneous paradise for the survivor. There is still loss and adversity. For me, the true potential of Christianity is not invoking a set of rigid inflexible laws and beliefs to bring about paradise. It is the recognition that true compassion, true gratitude can only exist after admitting that we cannot always achieve victory… and our humanity continues regardless of whatever losses or adversity we face.
Photo Credit
The Darkness Wall: Internet Monk
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