Scripture: Mark 15:21-32
They compelled a passer-by, who was coming in from the country, to carry his cross; it was Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull). And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it. And they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take. It was nine o'clock in the morning when they crucified him. The inscription of the charge against him read, "The King of the Jews." And with him they crucified two bandits, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!" In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes, were also mocking him among themselves and saying, "He saved others; he cannot save himself. Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe." Those who were crucified with him also taunted him.
Reflection Questions:
Have you ever had the experience of carrying someone else’s burden? Maybe it was to physically move boxes or entrusted with a secret? Was it your choice to help or were you compelled by another or circumstances? How might you choose to help someone out today? What small relief might you provide to another?
Five-minute Story:
Hiking up a canyon is a very different experience than descending into a canyon. On the way down, you enjoy beautiful vistas. Gravity helps as long as you watch your footing and stay on the trail. On the way down, you have the benefit of energy and enthusiasm - which are both fueled by what you see with your eyes as you look across the wonder of a vast expanse.
On the way up, things are remarkably different. For one, you mostly have your back to the scenery below, which is far more interesting than what lies ahead. Gravity turns against you and is no longer your friend. It feels as though someone has activated a gigantic magnet and there is a steel plate in your hiking boots. Each labored step on the way up teaches the hard wisdom of the canyon hiking mantra: what goes down must go up!
Slowly we slogged up the switchback trail. A few feet at a time, we retraced our steps up the 10% elevation. Higher and higher. Little by little. Eventually, we could see the Three Mile rest stop in the near distance. It is only the halfway point. By the time we reached this familiar spot, our canteens were empty, and we needed another break.
I began to wonder about my ability to hike out. My concerns were pushed away by my stubborn nature that shifted into high gear. I may not be as strong in body as I once was but I’m as single-minded as ever. The only thing on my mind at that point was making it to the top of the canyon’s rim.
From the Three-Mile rest stop, we ascended another thousand feet of elevation to the next water station. It was the final rest stop and was only a mile and a half from the trailhead. That doesn’t sound like much distance. On a flat surface, it should take less than an hour. On the Bright Angel Trail, however, that final leg of the trail is another thousand foot ascent. Distance, elevation, and exhaustion all combined to work against my body.
There are two short tunnels on the Bright Angel Trail. When you hike out, you reach the first tunnel at three-quarters of a mile from the trailhead. It was here that the skies suddenly darkened and became threatening. Boom! A clap of thunder startled us. Rain started to fall. All of a sudden, my tired muscles forgot their fatigue as we all quickened the pace.
We reached the second tunnel, less than a quarter mile from the finish line when lightning bolts crossed the sky above. Lightning is quick and deadly. You can't outrun its speed nor easily survive its strike. According to the National Park website; “lightning moves at 90,000 miles per second with voltage up to one billion volts. A standard household electrical outlet is 120 volts.”
These “fun facts” were not so fun when you are on a rocky, narrow, exposed trail that hugs the side of the canyon wall. All the warnings in the field guide were as “fun”; take shelter away from the edge, and stay away from the rocky wall. Really?
There was nowhere safe to go. At the first tunnel, we cowered as lightning crashed above our heads and rain poured down. We were out in the open, exposed, and in danger. And there did not seem like anything we could do to change our predicament.
In the gospel of Mark, Jesus cries out in a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” These are ancient words from Psalm 22 and through the ages have been used by the faithful time and again. Experiencing the abandonment of an ever-present God is to feel the pain of being utterly alone. This is true despair. Powerless. Helpless. Exposed. Hopeless.
On the cross, this is the cry of Jesus’ humanity. Friends, the leaders of his faith, the government, and his understanding of God all seem to abandon Jesus. Even the strength of his own body leaves as the horrific ordeal of the crucifixion is causing him to suffocate from his body’s fluids.
Jesus does the only thing left to do- cry out to God. But, is God even listening? It is a haunting question. God spoke to Jesus from the clouds at his baptism and on the Mount of Transfiguration. On the cross, however, there is no voice from heaven. There is no rebuttal to the accusation of abandonment. No words of assurance to the Beloved Son either. There is nothing but a damning silence as Jesus utters a loud cry and breathes his last.
In a distant place the Temple curtain, long a symbol that separated the Divine presence from the people, mysteriously tears from top to bottom in reply. The sound of massive and formidable fabric tearing announces something new. As the curtain falls upon holy ground, holy space opens; we catch a glimpse of hope.