The Crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth: Substitution vs. Solidarity

Sub.sti.tu.tion – the action of replacing someone or something with another person or thing.

Sol.i.dar.i.ty – union or fellowship arising from common responsibilities and interests.

It’s Holy Week, a time dense with memory and meaning.  Within this short span, the gospels speak of the betrayal by Judas, Jesus’ final meal with his friends, prayer and arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter’s denial, the rushed trial before Pilate, the walk to Golgotha, the state execution of Jesus and burial of his body. 

At the risk of vast oversimplification, two of the primary ways Christians interpret the crucifixion of Jesus have to do with substitution and solidarity.  Each comes with implications for how we view ourselves, Jesus, and God.

Jesus’s death as substitutionary emphasizes a penalty for human sinfulness Jesus takes on himself in our place.  This has been the dominant teaching in Protestant Christianity.  But most versions are deeply problematic, portraying a god who requires punishment in order to exercise a just forgiveness.  So, in effect, Jesus saves us from god.  The primary response of the believer is just that, to believe, and thus be saved.  I’m caricaturing, but just a little.

Jesus’s death as an act of solidarity leads in directions that are more fruitful.  It is humans, rather than God, who created the punishment and scapegoating systems.  God’s presence in Jesus speaks of Divine solidarity with human life and suffering.  The cross exposes our violence and critiques systems of oppression.  More than mere belief, we are invited to participate in another way of being human, which Jesus announced, taught, and lived, calling it “the kin-dom of God.”  Sometimes this leads Jesus-followers to suffer the same kinds of betrayal, unjust accusations, and violence Jesus experienced.  God’s grace-filled presence in us empowers us to address injustice, relieve suffering, and expand the breadth of solidarity with others. 

How we interpret the death of Jesus matters.

Joel       

 

Wider Church Happenings

Tomorrow morning I’ll be driving up to Goshen for three days of meetings with the Mennonite Church USA Constituency Leaders Council.  The CLC is an advisory and listening group – rather than decision-making body — made up of representatives of area conferences and constituency groups.  As the President-elect of Central District Conference, I’m one of our three attendees.  I’m pleased that one of the newest groups to be represented is the Queer Constituency Council, a result of A Resolution for Repentance and Transformation passed by delegates in 2022.

Our denomination is in a time of flux.  As LGBTQ members have claimed their place and been affirmed in the church, numerous congregations have disaffiliated.  A big role of denominational leadership these days is reimagining our church as a historic peace church engaging in shared justice-minded ministry and practices.  One of the reasons I have chosen to invest time into Central District Conference is that I believe our conference has been a leader in this area. 

These three days will be a time of relationship building across the denomination, listening in on what other conferences and denominational leaders are up to, and giving input into where things might head.  According to the agenda, this includes the sites of the next two national Conventions, and a possible “Year of the Bible” in 2025 to mark the 500 year anniversary of Anabaptism.  It’s also a lot of time in meetings so if you have any spare energy, you can point it northwest toward central Indiana and I’ll try to breathe it in.  I’ll be in worship Sunday looking forward to our children’s palm procession and Bethany Davey’s message.

One more piece of wider church news.  Like our denomination, higher education is in a time of flux.  We have a number of Bluffton University graduates at CMC and the Board of Trustees has just made public their unanimous affirmation of a merger with nearby University of Findlay as “One Community.  Two Campuses.” A tagline is “Strong Roots. Brighter Future.”  More information can be found at https://www.findlayblufftonfuture.com/

Joel

Over Half…

What if the majority of the world’s 8 billion people could share in a season of spiritual grounding?  What if over half of humanity would focus, all at the same time, on the practices that lead to harmony within oneself and justice in society? 

Well…

The Muslim month of Ramadan began on Sunday.  Because the Islamic calendar is based on lunar cycles, Ramadan slowly migrates within our solar calendar, appearing a little earlier each year.  We’re in a window of years when it overlaps with our Christian observation of Lent.  Both Ramadan and Lent contain calls for searching one’s heart, doing good deeds, and recalling the core narrative and principles of one’s faith. 

There are nearly two billion Muslims in the world, and about 2.4 billion Christians. 

Faith in Public Life, which has developed a strong interfaith network in Central Ohio, recently shared these words from Azka Mahmood, an Islamic leader in Georgia:  

The values of empathy, compassion, and inclusivity promoted during this month build the foundation for a more harmonious and equitable world and guard against extremism. The month of Ramadan is almost like a giant, month-long listening session with our community. The more we are connected to a loving, supportive community, the more attuned we are to each other – to what is good.

Similar words could be written about Lent.

I’m under no illusion that everyone who calls themselves a Muslim or Christian centers these values.  But I still find this a beautiful thought: In these two traditions alone, the majority of the world has access to a set of communal practices that ground us in love rather than fear, in justice rather than violence, in hope rather than despair.

Azka ends her message with this invitation:

This Ramadan, whether you are Muslim or not, join me. Join me in praying – praying for the multifaith, multiracial democracy we are working to build. Join me in listening – listening to our brothers and sisters and learning empathy, patience and kindness.

Invitation accepted.

Joel

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“The Divine Politics of Lament”

The subject line comes from a presentation I heard last Thursday: “Professional Mourners, Grieving Mothers, and the Divine Politics of Lament.”  This was part of the annual two-day Schooler Institute at Methodist Theological School in Ohio (MTSO).  The speaker was CMCer Dr. Ryan Schellenberg.    

Some things I’m stilling pondering:

The practice of lament is woven throughout our scriptures.  There are Psalms of lament, stories of lament, and an entire book bearing the name Lamentations responding to the devastating loss of Jerusalem and its temple in Babylonian times.  Many traditional cultures consider lament an essential enough act as to hire professional mourners at funerals.  Most of us Westerners think it odd or even inauthentic to pay someone to lead us in the collective falling apart that is grief.  However, we’re more than willing to pay professionals for one-on-one sessions to help us individually hold it together. 

Public lament has been gendered, with wailing women, especially mothers, leading the community in ritual and informal expressions of grief.  While I’m hopeful us men become increasingly comfortable with expressing emotion, there’s something powerful and sacred about those who bring life into the world through their bodies leading us in embodying grief when a life leaves us.  Ryan cited a Yemini Jewish mother who stated, “When I wail, I remember what I’ve gone through.”  Lament summons prior personal and collective experience into the present.

It is helpful to make a distinction between grief and lament.  We feel and express grief at losses that are part of our mortality.  But loss can also result from injustice.  To this, lament brings an additional layer of crying out for an end to the cycles of violence that perpetuate suffering.  As an equation, it could look like this: Lament = Grief + Protest.  As such, lament is an inherently political act.  Lament refuses to hold in grief or hold back from naming injustice.  In this sense, perhaps our professional lamenters these days are community organizers earning small salaries at nonprofits, calling for an end to the death penalty, an end to murders of Black folks at the hands of police, an end to environmental devastation.  We rely on these lament leaders to harness not just emotion, but collective, and thus political, will to act for healing, for justice.

Ryan’s thought-provoking presentation has helped me consider lament as ultimately a creative and essential act of hope. 

Joel