The Crucified Community: Meditation One

Larger blog post can be found here.
The artwork  is from Steve Prince 'Urban Stations' 

Transcript

The urban street communities, the drinkers & drifters, the beggars & broken, the addicts & abused, are those who have and continue to be crucified . Through their own suffering and distress, there is a correspondence with the wounds and suffering of Christ, the one who endured scorn, shame, nakedness, abandonment, violence, abuse, and early death. 

Those who endure the cross are often victims of adverse childhood experiences and casualties of a society where the wealthy amass wealth while the poor struggle to heat their homes. They are the ones who are crucified, left to perish young—the sacrificial underbelly of a society seduced by the forces of unrestrained capitalism. 

This crucifixion of the poor, through chaos, human evil and societal structures, is taking place throughout the world, often hidden from the masses, and can be found in the ruins of Gaza, the mines of the Congo, the slums of South Africa, the homeless shelters of Glasgow, and in the urban communities of Detroit and London.

Unlike the crucifixion of Jesus, the suffering of the marginalised does not bring redemption or reconciliation. Like Jesus, they are often crucified at the behest of wickedness and evil, but unlike Jesus, their suffering is not redemptive or being about reconciliation.

In these seven reflections on the cross of Jesus, I want to examine His crucifixion through the lens of the poor and marginalised who  daily carry the cross of shame and trauma. 

Meditation One - The Forsaken One who does not Forsake

‘He was despised and rejected by men... As one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isa. 53:3)

'In order to speak of the crucified God, we need a theology of abandonment, of dereliction, of an alienation so profound that it can only be expressed in language marked by paradox and great daring and risk. The Crucifixion of the Son of God by one of the most advanced civilisations in the ancient world does not seem to be an acceptable or reasonable method of redeeming the world. There is something so outrageous and obscene about it that the agony in Gethsemane becomes the only comprehensible part of the whole saga.'

-Kenneth Leech, We Preach Christ Crucified

The death of Jesus, like the abuse sustained in childhood by many vulnerable adults, is obscene. 

His crucifixion, like the tens of thousands of others who were crucified by Rome, was an unspeakable evil - polite Roman society would not talk about it - that speaks through the scars on the bodies and souls of those who endured it, but was also a death that perceived as obscene and disgusting by others. The wondrous cross, that old rugged cross, was not at first a symbol of love, an adornment for buildings, or to hang around a neck; no, the cross was a grotesque reality, a torturous shameful death whereby a naked body would, in public view, suffer, defecate, and slowly die, in public but alone.

The death of Jesus, particularly his method of execution, was a scandal (Gal 5:11), a stumbling 

block for the Jewish community, for they could not conceive how a messiah could take his place

with the cursed (Gal 3:13). The manner of Jesus’ death and not just the actuality of his death is important. In an early church hymn picked up by Paul in his letter to the Philippians, he says, 'He humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.' and Jesus himself makes the cross the model of discipleship when he says, 'Take up your cross and follow me.' In his death, Jesus the king, endures what the Roman empire only dished out to what they perceived as the dregs of society, the slaves, and the terrorists. And here lies a holy scandalous mystery, the eternal Son of God took the way of the cross, the way of the underdog, the dregs, and the marginalised.

'He was despised and rejected by men... As one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not.' - Isa. 53:

In Jesus, those who have experienced their own crucifixion through abuse, brutality, and domination can find solidarity.

To the rich and wealthy, the academic elite, and the nobility, the cross is an embarrassment, but to the poor and oppressed, the cross is God saying, 'I am with you; I have experienced what you have experienced' — an intimate solidarity with those whose suffering degrades dehumanises.

God entered into a place of dereliction and godlessness to identify with those who are despised, rejected, and cries out , 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'

In this cry of Jesus, the lonely victims of the machinations of evil find the answer to the question

of abandonment, for God has not abandoned those who experience acute suffering. No, in the God-Man Jesus, we see a God revealed who is not aloof and distant from suffering but has participated as a victim. He is not an absent landlord but rather enters in, joining us in our suffering and pain.

Francis' life has been filled with sorrow. Abused  and mistreated from an early age, let down by those who should have shown him love. He entered adulthood wounded, with a body and mind that bear the scars of shame, abandonment, and exile. Every night, Francis prays by his bedside, clasping a cross that portrays Jesus as a shepherd, a cross he was given on the day of his baptism. When the nightmares come, he clings to the cross until his eyes close in sleep. As pastors, we can never fully know the extent of his suffering, but Jesus does not abandon Francis. Just as the shepherd cross illustrates, He is the Good Shepherd who walks with Francis through the darkest valley, for He too has experienced the depths of suffering.

In Jesus, death was followed by resurrection. Francis understands that, though he may die young due to trauma and hurt, his crucified friend Jesus knows and understands his suffering. 

He, Jesus the crucified shepherd, will one day transform and heal, bringing reconciliation to all things, for He is the crucified, now risen, healer of all hurts, the forsaken one who does not forsake.