Homily   Good Friday March 25, 2005

 

Edward Hays shares with us this parable:

 

A pious widow lived with her only son.  She suffered from arthritis and also from the pain of a son who had lost his faith and was nonreligious. She prayed daily for his conversion as well as to be cured of her painful arthritis.  For years she had longed to possess a relic of the True Cross, which she believed would cure her arthritis.  The son ridiculed his mother’s simple faith and pious devotion, which he saw as mere superstition.

 

On his way home one day, the son saw a large splinter in a fence post and brought it home.  There he found an old gold pocket watch from which he removed the clock works.  He laid the splinter on a piece of red velvet cloth, then placed it in the gold watchcase and closed its glass front.  “Here, Mother, I just got this from Rome,” he said.  “It’s a relic of the True Cross!”  His mother was overcome with joy.  She placed the relic in a place of honor in the living room, surrounded by countless candles.

 

Soon her living room became a neighborhood shrine where friends crowded to pray before the relic of the True Cross.  The relic seemed to lessen the mother’s arthritis.  There were addition claims by friends of miracles and cures from various afflictions.

 

Months later at a local bar, the son told his friends what he had done, and they all laughed at the superstitious faith of such a silly religion.  His friends convinced him to go home and tell his mother and her circle of pious friends the truth about the relic.  The idea delighted him, but as he opened the door of the bar to leave, he found himself standing face to face with Jesus Christ! Jesus pointed a finger at him and said, “Stop! That splinter of wood you gave to your mother truly is part of my cross!”

 

We’re in the midst of these Holy Days.  If we are followers of Jesus – we are truly people see him as our model – then he has led us here – to the foot of the Cross.

 

This is not a drama that we can perform – attempting to look like Jesus and pretending to be hung on a Cross and undergo the sufferings of the cross – or pretending to do so.  That’s what the old Passion plays were – not that they were without value – they can inspire. But the danger is to think that by acting out the events of these days we are following Jesus is missing the point. We have been baptized into Him. We follow him not 2 millennia ago in Jerusalem but here today. We watch the crucifixion now - We witness his Way of the Cross here and now – through the streets of Tinton Falls – and Ocean and Eatontown and Asbury Park and all the rest. We even trace the way in our own lives.

 

That simple fraudulent splinter was the true cross – the cross that tortured that woman.

And we can find the true cross in our midst as well.

 

Perhaps the splinter is from some new construction of homes in our wealthy Monmouth County – take one of those splinters and enthrone it because it is part of the cross on which the poor are hung – the homeless- those who live in substandard housing – who suffer from the cold and crowd in discomfort – so that the rest of us can live big. That is a piece of the true Cross of Jesus today.

 

Or perhaps it is a piece of a tree that has been destroyed by our lack of care for the environment.  Our ignorance about the actions of our government and others that neglect God’s command to be stewards of what God has given us. That tree splinter is part of the true Cross of Jesus today.

 

Or the true-cross splinter might be from the fence, imaginary or not, that corrals people – and separates them so that we can feel safer and cleaner and purer and righteous. And so we fence off the addict – the transgendered – the homeless – the drunk – and the wood from that fence is a piece of the true Cross of Jesus today.

 

Or even maybe that splinter is from one of our church buildings – places that should be places of liberation and healing and instead too often become bastions of exclusive rules and hurtful words – too often become the lofty palaces of the high and mighty. The splinter of the wood that builds our churches can too often a piece of the true Cross of Jesus today.

 

Jesus’ Cross is everywhere – and we don’t spend this Good Friday well if we don’t name the places where he is crucified. Only if we can name those nails and point to the pain can we take Him down and bring on the resurrection.

 

If we would really spend this Good Friday well we would hope for resurrection not only for Jesus – and not only for ourselves on the last day but indeed for the poor and crucified and the marginalized and the lost and the hurt and hungry today.

 

We venerate the Cross this day well only if we venerate Jesus’ brothers and sisters who hang with him upon it.

 

We spend this solemn time realizing Jesus’ inclusive, overwhelming love that led him to this Cross – and hope and pray that we can truly model him – and follow him to new life.