I
look at the crucified Lord here and in life. I see him stripped of everything:
*-Stripped
of dignity*, naked before his friends and enemies...
*-Stripped
of all his possessions*: I remember the times when people wanted just to touch the
fringe of his garments.
*-Stripped
of success*: I recall the heady years when his miracles were acclaimed and it
seemed as if the kingdom were about to be established
*-Stripped
of credibility:* so, he could not come down from the cross; so, he could not
save himself; he must have been a fraud.
*-Stripped
of support:* even the friends and family who did not run away are powerless to
reach him or help him ...
*-Stripped
of his God*, the god he thought of as his father, who he hoped would save him
in his hour of need ...
*Finally,
I see him stripped of life*, this existence here on earth that he, like us,
held on to tenaciously and was unwilling to let go of ...
As
I gaze at that lifeless body, I slowly understand that I am looking at the
symbol of supreme and total liberation. In being fastened to the cross Jesus
becomes alive and free. Here is a parable of conquest, not defeat.
So
now I begin to contemplate the majesty of the man who has freed himself from
all that makes us slaves, destroys our happiness ... In gazing at that freedom,
I think with sadness of my own slavery:
*-I
am a slave to the things that I possess*: I think of the times I am controlled
by the gadgets and things that I have or the way I appear before people
*-I
am a slave to public opinion*: I think of the times I am controlled by what others/community
will say and think of me ...
*-I
am driven to worldly acceptance*: I see the times I run away from challenges
and risks because I hate to make mistakes or fail ...the many initiatives that
I fail to take …
*-I
am enslaved by the need for human consolation*: how many times I was dependent
on the approval and acceptance of others /friends/ community, their power to
assuage my loneliness, the times I didn’t really express my opinion, I was
possessive of my friends and lost my freedom ...
*-I
think of my enslavement to my God*: I think of the times I try to use him to
make my life secure and undisturbed and painless; also the times I am enslaved
by fear of him, and by the need to insure myself against him through rites and
exercises and ceremonies ...
*-Finally,
I think of how I cling to life*: how paralyzed I am by fears of every kind,
unable to take risks, for fear of losing friends or reputation, health, success
or life or God ...
-And
so, I gaze in admiration at the crucified who won his final liberation in his
passion when he fought with his attachments and let go of them, and conquered…..
I
too desire for myself the freedom and the victory that shine out in the body on
the cross.
And
as I continue to contemplate the mystery of his cross, I hear again his words
re-echo in my heart:
*"If
you wish to follow me, you must follow with your cross..." and
"unless it dies, the grain of wheat remains alone..."*
