Gathering at the Cross (an invitation)\u00a0 These last words of Christ are a synopsis of not only his life, but our own as well.<\/p>\n Jesus forgave his murderers because they did not realize the sacredness of every human being. Ask a griever of murder. They could not see the innate beauty, holiness and wholeness of what was within every being. Jesus died like other accused persons. He looked side to side to those hanging in agony\u00a0with\u00a0<\/em>Him, nodding to their shared humanity and pain. Forgiveness has nothing to do with the perpetrator, but a gradual letting go of our pain. You don\u2019t forget: not to retaliate, but to deepen our compassion for ourselves and others.<\/p>\n We have all been human. There is nothing more tender than one being honestly forgiven for what they have done\u2026<\/p>\n We have all felt the dark night of the soul. When feeling abandoned and so totally alone\u2013 echoes of agonizing stillness blast your heart. It penetrates the hardened walls of our soft heart. You are greeted by yourself\u00a0and<\/em>\u00a0God. Abandon judgment and self criticism. The entrance to the truth\u2013 the Truth that we are never alone\u2013 opens to a breath and width of love, serenity and peace beyond words.<\/p>\n We all thirst \u2026 physically, emotionally, mentally, socially and spiritually. It is only satiated by moments of quiet and stillness. Love, compassion, self-acceptance and mercy quench\u00a0fear, loneliness, guilt, shame self-judgment and self-hate.<\/p>\n When we accept our life\u00a0<\/em>just as it is\u2014<\/em>\u00a0the harshness, hate, unfairness and injustice that surrounds us\u2013that acceptance leaves us less wounded. We are finished with the greed, power, control, fame and goal driven frenetic life that has become our model of modern day emptiness. Peace greets and welcomes us to wholeness. Our wounds begin to heal, freeing us to help wounded others.<\/p>\n Each moment, each breath, we surrender to the next. We have gone through the pain of the past and into a constant new beginning, not knowing what lays before us. Surrendering is the antithesis of humanity, and yet, it brings freedom and expansion that we never thought possible. Gratitude, even in difficult times, can become our new born human mantra.<\/p>\n Grief, pain, poverty, anger, disobedience and disappearance causing horrible anguish for his parents; dark nights of the soul, questioning, and defiance;\u00a0screaming and yelling and finally acceptance and surrender\u2026Jesus\u2019 life is our life, although our stories may differ. My God, your God. Our shared humanity and divinity. \u00a0\u2014Jody Gyulay \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n The First Word: \u201cFather, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n They relapse until their strength is sapped and their brains collapse waiting for their time on Earth to lapse while they fight for scraps that fall from the hands of the liars that claim \u2018we can all raise ourselves by our bootstraps\u2019 like that\u2019s something more than an empty trope<\/p>\n They vote not with hope but for whichever dope holds the longest hangman\u2019s rope, then mope when the scope of destruction causes myopia and try to cope with the dystopia and grope in the darkness for the cornucopia of each other\u2019s love<\/p>\n They ignore the white turtledove that flies down from above and with their fists shove strangers away and forget we\u2019re all clove from the same clay. Why move to help the stray when they can get preapproved the same day? They say \u201cit doesn\u2019t behoove me to parlay with this impoverished drove\u201d as they flay anyone richer than them with castigation<\/p>\n They\u2019ve became a nation on medication afraid of social demonstration, consider intentional aggravation to be an abomination, trade their grandchildren\u2019s future elation for their own greedy satiation, they abhor moderation and seek inebriation from social media inundation, they equate liberation with isolation and choose surgical reanimation over graceful maturation. Any mention of salvation through self-sacrifice makes them balk<\/p>\n They never spend a second walkin\u2019 in someone else\u2019s moccasins just gawk at the awkward chalk outlines on their neighbor\u2019s front yard. They say \u201csacrifice is hard\u201d as they clock 95 in their Prius. They say \u201cpeace is hard\u201d as they point their glocks towards heaven. They say \u201cbeing a good neighbor is hard\u201d as they double check their padlocks. As they stalk your flock, they race-walk to Hell<\/p>\n Why can\u2019t they hear the bell tolling or smell the sin rolling in waves over their shoulders, can\u2019t tell they\u2019re not doing well controlling life\u2019s groundswell rolling? Why can\u2019t they see that endless trolling doesn\u2019t gel with the plan God is bankrolling? It does no good to tell them to cease the endless vitriolling. They don\u2019t see that an empty heart is a shell, it needs no patrolling, it can\u2019t be saved<\/p>\n If they don\u2019t want to be enslaved by the ethics of the craven and depraved, they must turn away from evil. If they want their accolades engraved they must join the real Crusade, and their escapades will make them modern society\u2019s renegades. The enemies of God will label them The Misbehaved. They must do all the things their cultural decorum forbade. They must join a cavalcade worthy of You<\/p>\n In the meantime, Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. \u00a0 \u2014Alex Waller<\/em><\/p>\n Talk About Suffering<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n The Second Word: \u201cTruly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Of all the watchers gathered at Go<\/u>lgotha\u2026<\/p>\n -The teachers who hated him,<\/p>\n -The priests who paid for him in silver,<\/p>\n -The ghost of the traitor who sold him out,<\/p>\n -The fickle crowds who worshiped only the miracles which would change their lives,<\/p>\n -Pilate in his palace trying to justify his decisions,<\/p>\n -The disciples watching from a fearful distance,<\/p>\n -Criminals\u2026both In agony, to the right and left of Jesus, guilty of high treason against Rome.\u00a0 Rebels.\u00a0 Traitors.\u00a0 Criminals.<\/p>\n Of all the watchers gathered at Golgotha, I would choose to be like the criminal.<\/p>\n Let me tell you why.<\/p>\n Agony times two.\u00a0 Blinded by his own pain, the criminal on the right moves his head,<\/p>\n Trying to see the writing on the board at the top of Jesus\u2019 cross.<\/p>\n He is distracted by the thorns that circle Jesus\u2019 head at an angle,<\/p>\n Like a crown sitting askew above the blood seeping down his face.<\/p>\n Then the sun hits Jesus\u2019 cross at just the right slant,<\/p>\n And both criminals can see now what is written:<\/p>\n \u201cThis is the King of the Jews.\u201d<\/p>\n Heard of him, they think.<\/p>\n Maybe even heard him speak.<\/p>\n Heard\u00a0 he healed the sick,<\/p>\n Walked on water,<\/p>\n Even raised the dead.<\/p>\n Agony times three.<\/p>\n Convinced by the sign, the agony on the left rails at Jesus in a voice that knows that hope is dead,<\/p>\n \u201cAren\u2019t you the Christ?\u00a0 Save yourself and us.\u201d<\/p>\n Silence and agony times four.<\/p>\n And the first, who might have echoed the other, instead moans,<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you fear God?\u00a0 We\u2019re guilty.\u00a0 We did what they say we did. This man did nothing wrong.\u201d\u00a0 And with the last of his conscious awareness,\u00a0 he appeals to the King of the Jews.<\/p>\n \u201dJesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.\u201d<\/p>\n Then Jesus, in agony times numberless,\u00a0 says simply,<\/p>\n \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cTruly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n And it is for this that I can say I would choose to be\u00a0 the criminal on the cross with Jesus.<\/p>\n \u201cTODAY<\/em>,\u201d <\/strong>\u00a0Jesus said.\u00a0 \u201cYou will be with me in paradise.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n Not tomorrow. Not in three days.\u00a0 Not next week.\u00a0 Today.\u00a0 Within just hours.<\/p>\n \u201cToday<\/strong>,\u201d Jesus said, \u201cYOU WILL<\/em> be with me in paradise<\/strong>.\u201d\u00a0 Declaring the future.\u00a0 Not a command, but a prediction.\u00a0 A certainty.<\/p>\n Jesus said \u201cYou will<\/strong> BE WITH ME<\/em> in paradise<\/strong>.\u201d<\/p>\n As if to say,\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m going; this is a given.\u00a0 I\u2019m going.\u00a0 You will come too.<\/p>\n As surely as the sun will rise tomorrow\u2026 As surely as the dark will come tonight\u2026<\/p>\n The inevitable will of God will continue.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cToday you will be with me in paradise<\/em><\/strong>.\u201d<\/p>\n Paradise.\u00a0 The Garden in Eden.\u00a0 The third heaven.<\/p>\n That place beyond the immediate heaven of earth\u2019s atmosphere.<\/p>\n Beyond space.\u00a0 Beyond the countless universes.<\/p>\n To God himself.\u00a0 At home with God himself.<\/p>\n A criminal assured of a thing unique<\/strong><\/em> in the history of mankind\u2026<\/p>\n Accompanying Jesus to paradise.<\/p>\n And why would I choose to be like the criminal?<\/p>\n To place my life, my eternal future in Jesus hands\u2026<\/p>\n Why would I not choose such a role. \u00a0\u2014Pat Boston<\/em><\/p>\n Pieta: The Silence and the Sorrow<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n The Third Word: \u201cWoman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.\u201d<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/em>This is an execution.<\/p>\n And I don\u2019t want to go.<\/p>\n I\u2019m reluctant to put my toe into that water.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Because we have children<\/p>\n I\u2019d rather write about Mary with her baby<\/p>\n That\u2019s a picture easier to embrace.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n From the day a baby comes into this world,<\/p>\n (Even children who arrive without heralds, without angels\u2026)<\/p>\n Families just love you<\/p>\n We seek your little faces<\/p>\n We\u00a0listen\u00a0to\u00a0the whisper of your sleep<\/p>\n We\u00a0celebrate\u00a0your rhyming and climbing and bouncing.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Your family has this big deep love for you<\/p>\n We want to protect your knees from scrapes<\/p>\n Your hearts from aches<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n So that\u2019s why its just so hard to take in this scene.<\/p>\n This\u00a0agonizing painful death<\/p>\n That\u00a0makes\u00a0our hearts\u00a0 heavy and aching<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n As Jesus comforts his mother and friend<\/p>\n We are reminded<\/p>\n We are here as family<\/p>\n To care for one and other<\/p>\n As we endure our pain and\u00a0wait for the mystery to unfold. \u00a0\u2014Julie Broski<\/em><\/p>\n Mary<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n The Fourth Word: \u201cMy God, my God, why have you forsaken me?\u201d<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n of the reverie of Jedis and evil emperors<\/p>\n Built with one part little plastic figures<\/p>\n And two parts constellated imagination.<\/p>\n Everything was simple there, I was the one<\/p>\n In control.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n A raised voice from the other room, followed by<\/p>\n Another raised voice.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Two people who were the half and other half<\/p>\n Of my whole wide world, the sense within the senseless<\/p>\n Furtive Footsteps lead me to the hallway.<\/p>\n A tear streaked mother\u2019s face, a father with set jaw.<\/p>\n The loudest silence I have ever heard.<\/p>\n A break in belonging.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n A high school afternoon, with a yellow haired girl<\/p>\n Loud music in a cruising car, hamburgers and milkshakes.<\/p>\n There was nothing but electric possibility in the air.<\/p>\n The car turns down the tree-lined movie set of a street.<\/p>\n Once again, a tear-streaked mother, head hanging heavy,<\/p>\n Sits on the stoop.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n She holds my hand in her hand.<\/p>\n \u201cShe is gone.\u201d<\/p>\n The mother who gave my mother life,<\/p>\n The grandmother who danced to music<\/p>\n She couldn\u2019t stand just to make me laugh.<\/p>\n \u201cShe is gone\u201d. Another reverie broken.<\/p>\n Hamburgers and milkshakes and cruising cars.<\/p>\n She is gone and I didn\u2019t get to say good bye.<\/p>\n \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n A celebratory sweet swisher cigar stuck between my teeth.<\/p>\n The news, so unexpected and sooner than planned<\/p>\n No longer scares me.<\/p>\n \u201cI am going to be a father.\u201d<\/p>\n Smoke rings blown out over the edge of the deck<\/p>\n And into the night air.\u00a0 A door slides behind me,<\/p>\n A tug at my sleeve.<\/p>\n \u201cSomething is wrong.\u00a0 There is blood, too much blood\u201d<\/p>\n My thoughts turn to god, to my wife, to my unborn child.<\/p>\n A few days I was angry\u2026I am not ready for this.<\/p>\n Now I want nothing more than to make sure this life lives longer.<\/p>\n Why are you doing this to me I say to noone\u2026or of course to someone.<\/p>\n My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n She has been lost to me, some unspoken wall built<\/p>\n Brick by brick over years of denial and shame.<\/p>\n But also, where is she now, in this house, at this moment<\/p>\n A door, meant to be closed, but left open just a crack.<\/p>\n I peak inside.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n She is there.\u00a0 She is on her knees.\u00a0 Her hands held tightly<\/p>\n Clasped across her chest, tears rolling down from her cheeks.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t let me be this way.\u00a0 Dear God, don\u2019t let me be gay.\u201d<\/p>\n I have always known.\u00a0 And I didnt know at all.\u00a0 Both are true somehow.<\/p>\n I feel sadness course through my veins like an IV injection.<\/p>\n Sad for her. Sad for the kids.\u00a0 Sad for me.<\/p>\n My marriage is over.<\/p>\n My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n With rage, and hate, and fear, and pain.<\/p>\n I see your dimpled cheeks, robust with baby fat and<\/p>\n Eyes blue and soft and trusting.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n I don\u2019t see your hair cut short and angry with false<\/p>\n Hues of blue and cherry red and midnight black.<\/p>\n I see the tightly wound ringlets of blonde curls,<\/p>\n Splashing down like waves over your cheeks.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n I don\u2019t hear your voice as it is now\u2026<\/p>\n Choked with loathing and wearniness<\/p>\n Strained with rage and hurt.<\/p>\n I hear your giggle, light and airy and pondering<\/p>\n The soft lilt as you say \u201cDaddy I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n But there was the blood\u2026<\/p>\n The rivulets of red beads forming in a line<\/p>\n At your wrist and marching like ants down your arm.<\/p>\n How many reveries can be broken in a lifetime?<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n What is the matter with you? I think.<\/p>\n I love you I say.<\/p>\n I hold you in my arms.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n My baby, my baby, it is going to be ok<\/p>\n Don\u2019t hurt anymore.\u00a0 Let me hurt for you.<\/p>\n \u00a0 My God, My God Why hast thou forsaken me?<\/em><\/p>\n Epilogue:<\/p>\n My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me.<\/p>\n In the crack of the slavers whip.<\/p>\n In the fire of hunger in our belly.<\/p>\n At the drop of each bomb.<\/p>\n In the flight from home.<\/p>\n In the broken families,<\/p>\n The hurting children.<\/p>\n The lost and the confused.<\/p>\n In the hanging from each and every cross.<\/p>\n My God, My God\u2026.why hast thou forsaken me? \u00a0\u2014<\/em>Bill Martinie<\/em><\/p>\n Wayfaring Stranger<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n The Fifth Word: \u201cI Thirst.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Jesus spoke this simple phrase so many lifetimes ago<\/p>\n Strikingly human<\/p>\n So universally real to all times, all people<\/p>\n As real as the water relieving our dry throats<\/p>\n As real as the refreshing rain bringing life to the cracked, thirsty ground<\/p>\n As real as the wine shared at Communion<\/p>\n Which reminds us of that\u00a0moment<\/p>\n Which refreshes our dry and thirsty spirits<\/p>\n Which restores our faith<\/p>\n On\u00a0this Friday\u00a0which connects us to that\u00a0Friday\u00a0all those many years ago. \u2014Melody & Daphne Zakarian\u00a0<\/em>(age 14)<\/p>\n![\"way-427984_640\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/333\/2016\/03\/way-427984_640-e1458922676832.jpg\")
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