Good Friday

Lost

Earlier this week I heard just part of a radio program featuring the Seven Last Words of Christ. I think it was Tuesday evening on WFMT. I didn’t hear the beginning or the end, so I’m not sure of the specifics, but it included reflections on the Seven Last Words of Christ from the cross interspersed with chamber music—I think it was Haydn’s Seven Last Words for string quartet. The reflections were by prominent contemporary religious figures.

One was by Peter Gomes. The Rev. Professor Peter Gomes died about a year ago, so his reflection was read by someone else. All of this is by way of giving Professor Gomes credit for an idea that has stuck with me and seems very important today on Good Friday.

He talked about being lost. One way of being lost, stereotypically attributed to male drivers, happens when you know where you are; you know how you got there; but you don’t know how to get where you’re going. (And you are unwilling to ask for directions. Gomes was willing to put himself in this category.) You know where you are. You know how you got there. But you don’t know where to go next. You know where you want to be, but you don’t know how to get there.

Another sort of lost is total disorientation. You have no idea where you are. Like waking up some morning alone in a strange land where you do not speak the language nor read the alphabet.

I think all of us in the course of our lives metaphorically experience both of these kinds of feeling lost. Thinking of the sense of total disorientation, I have seen people experience a total sense of disorientation after the death of a spouse of a parent. The “survivor” who is left behind feels quite suddenly lost in a strange, almost unrecognizable world.

But Gomes pointed out that the bandits, or thieves, crucified with Jesus were the first kind of lost. They knew exactly where they were and they knew exactly how they got there. But they could go no further on their own. They did not know the way forward.

And I think that’s where we are as we stand at the foot of the cross today. We are at the cross. The cross of crucifixion.

We know exactly where we are. We are at the place where the Son of God is dying before our eyes. And we know exactly how we got here.

The devices and desires of our own hearts brought us here. That wonderful phrase from the Book of Common Prayer. We got here to the cross of crucifixion because we followed the devices and desires of our own hearts. We stand at the foot of the cross with our Lord crucified in front of us because we followed the devices and desires of our own hearts.

But I think it’s even worse. We are here because we followed the devices and desires of our own hearts, but we got here also through the devices and desires of other peoples’ hearts. You can imagine the situation when you ask a group of kids who were playing ball who actually hit the baseball that broke the window. They all point to someone else. In a very important sense their allegations are true. They were all in it together. They all were a part of the endeavor that broke the window.

We are responsible not only for getting ourselves here; we have helped bring others to this place at the foot of the cross. And they have helped bring us here.

We know exactly where we are.
We know exactly how we got here.
But we are lost.
We do not know the way forward.

But God does. God knows the way forward from this place. God alone can lead us forward from the cross. God alone can lead us to where we wish to be. But we have to ask. One of the thieves crucified next to Jesus turned to Jesus on the cross and prayed: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

The devices and desires of all of our hearts have brought us here to the cross. If we desire to move beyond the cross of crucifixion, we have to ask!

To the thief who asked, Jesus said: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”