During the hours when Jesus hung on the cross leading up to his death, he uttered seven “words” (actually short sentences, as recorded across the four gospels), and these words continue to be meaningful and insightful to us today if we’re willing to spend some time in quiet with them. For they are not only remembrances of that day and of Jesus’ suffering and death, but also serve as reminders of how we are to live in our own moments of suffering. As we enter Holy Week, I offer seven short reflections on these words and ask you to consider what they might mean to you, today.
One: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” Luke 23:33-34
We arrive at the place hauntingly called Golgotha (the Skull), where Jesus and his cross are lifted into place on that ugly hill, a criminal to his left and right. Jesus is tired, wounded and bloody from the torture he has experienced and from the long walk to Golgotha carrying his own instrument of death. He owes nothing to anyone.
Put in his situation (or one similar to it), what would our first words be to the crowd gathered before us? Perhaps something along these lines: “Stop! I have done nothing wrong! I don’t deserve this! This isn’t supposed to happen to me! You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Jesus, instead, turns away from hatred, denial and retribution and toward love, acceptance and forgiveness: “Forgive them, Father. They are just incapable of knowing what it is they are doing. As painful as this is for me, as unjust as the whole situation is, please, just forgive them.”
As we face (or contemplate) our own moments of suffering and death, we are asked to consider Jesus, the gentle healer and forgiver. Will we be able to reach deep beyond the pain and turn the situation to love? Will we be able to forgive those who have hurt us, who have left us feeling alone or with a burden that has been nearly too great to bear?
Ask yourself in silence: What will be the legacy of my suffering? Will it be more pain for someone else or a turn toward the kind of love modeled for me on the cross? Even as I exit, can I leave love behind?
Tomorrow: Paradise
