As
we conclude our “Crosses of Jesus” sermon series in which we have looked at the
Latin Cross, the Jerusalem Cross, the Tau Cross, the Celtic Cross, and the St.
Andrew’s Cross, we focus this morning on another cross of Jesus which is known
as the Crucifix.
First, a bit of history.
Archaeologists have found no evidence of
the image of a crucified Jesus used in Christian worship until the 5th
century. In fact, the early Christians avoided the
use of even a plain cross. For one
thing, the shape of the cross was still the form of capital punishment used for
non-Roman citizens throughout the Roman Empire.
And to highlight such a gruesome symbol in that time period could have
easily been too overpowering for people to absorb.
Also, to use a cross as a Christian image would
have drawn attention to oneself as a follower of Jesus, a dangerous thing to do
during times of persecution for Christians.
For this reason, early Christians
identified themselves with the sign of the fish. Some of Jesus’ disciples had been
fishermen: Peter, Andrew, James and
John. Jesus invited them to become his
disciples, and told them that they would no longer catch fish. Instead, they would fish for people and
encourage them to become followers and disciples of Jesus Christ.
Early Christians could mark their homes or
businesses with a fish and other Christians would know that they could safely
talk about Jesus together. But pagans
throughout the Roman Empire might just assume that they were fishermen by
trade, or that it was just a decoration.
The earliest representations of a cross
used in Christian imagery were made using an anchor. You can see that there is the shape of a
cross hidden in the design of an anchor.
Also, by introducing an anchor as a Christian symbol of the cross,
Christians were able to keep within the fishing and sea imagery that they had
already been using.
In addition, our faith reminds us that Jesus
is the Lord of all and who keeps us secure in the midst of life’s storms. Hence, the anchor is a very good Christian
symbol, and it too, could be used safely by early Christians without facing
persecution.
When early Christians did try and
represent Jesus crucified, they did not use an image of the body of Jesus
nailed to a cross. Rather, they used the
image of a lamb, the Passover Lamb. They
understood the symbolism of the Passover Lamb from the Old Testament, and that
Jesus was the perfect Lamb of God crucified to take away the sins of the
world. Often, the lamb is shown carrying
a banner.
In the fourth century, the Roman Emperor
Constantine converted to Christianity, and the persecution of Christians came
to an end in the Roman Empire.
In the fifth century, the Western Roman
Empire fell after years of invasions by many northern Germanic tribes. Finally, the empire fell completely when the
Visigoths invaded.
The earliest depictions of the crucified
Jesus in the Middle Ages show him with his eyes open and with no trace of
suffering. Although the humanity and the
divinity of Christ was an accepted doctrine of the Church during this time,
emphasis was generally placed on Christ’s divinity and that’s why Jesus tended
to be painted without any emphasis on his suffering and death.
By the thirteenth century, there was
increasing theological importance placed on the incarnation of Jesus, or his
taking on of full humanity. Depictions
of the crucifixion began to portray Jesus’ twisted body, and his bleeding on
the cross. The crucifix became the
centerpiece in most churches and cathedrals, and became the favored object of
devotion and contemplation for the mystics.
Some historians believe that depictions of
the crucifixion of Jesus became more realistic during the Middle Ages because
the Great Plague had ravaged across Europe and killed more than one-third of
the population with an agonizing, unstoppable death. European artists became fascinated with
depicting death.
Then, during the Renaissance, Jesus’ depiction
on the cross was transformed once again according to the prevailing optimistic
spirit of that era.
The Protestant Reformation of the 16th
century put a divide in the use of portrayals of the crucifixion between the
Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches on one hand, and Protestant
Churches on the other. Protestant
reformers got rid of crucifixes in their churches, and in the case of John
Calvin’s followers, even plain crosses were banned.
Crosses have again become prominent in most
Protestant Churches, although a few still adhere to strict “no ornamentation”
beliefs. However, the crucifix has
remained almost exclusively associated with Roman Catholicism.
Both Protestants and Catholics understand
that both the crucifixion of Jesus, and his resurrection are pivotal points of
our Christian faith. And one is
meaningless without the other. If Jesus
had not been crucified, he could not have been resurrected from the dead. And if Jesus had not been resurrected from
the dead, he would have been just another Jewish man crucified by Roman
authorities.
So, what can we learn from the Crucifix?
A crucifix is a Latin cross with the body
of Jesus, called the Corpus hanging on it.
It signifies the sacrifice that the Son of God willingly made on our
behalf. It reminds us of the incredible
agony and suffering that Jesus endured to take away our sins.
Listen to this description of
death by crucifixion written by a medical doctor:
Hours of this limitless pain,
cycles of twisting, joint-rending cramps, intermittent partial asphyxiation,
searing pain as tissue is torn from the victim’s lacerated back as he moves up
and down against the rough timber. Then
another agony begins: a deep, crushing
pain deep in the chest as the pericardium slowly fills with serum and begins to
compress the heart. It is now almost
over—the loss of tissue fluids has reached a critical level—the compressed
heart is struggling to pump heavy, thick, sluggish blood into the tissues—the
tortured lungs are making a frantic effort to gasp in small gulps of air. The victim can feel the chill of death
creeping through his tissues…Finally, he can allow his body to die.
This type of capital punishment was known
to be brutal and painful over a long period of time. And Jesus, being fully human, felt every bit
of its pain and torture.
This was capital punishment reserved for
the lowest people in the empire—slaves, servants, and criminal non-Roman
citizens.
God’s servant to humankind came and died a
servant’s death.
The crucifix also reminds us that we as
Jesus’ disciples are also called to live our lives serving others.
The crucifix calls us to remember the
crucifixion of Jesus.
A teacher named Patty Bonds shares her own
story of the reason she wears a crucifix:
I was
assisting in a history class one day shortly after my conversion. I was wearing a crucifix and the history
teacher, who was not Catholic, commented that crucifixes always bother her. She asked me why we Catholics kept Jesus on
the cross when he was risen from the dead.
She expressed her offense at the sight of Jesus hanging there 2,000
years after the fact.
Prompted,
I believe, by the Holy Spirit, I broke into a chorus of an old hymn
traditionally familiar to many Protestants:
Lest I forget Gethsemane,
Lest I forget thine agony
Lest I forget thy love for me,
Lead me to Calvary.
She
walked away with raised eye brows and a pensive nod.
Patty
Bonds continued: Could it be that the
sight of the price paid for us makes some very uncomfortable? Could it be that
as we look upon Christ giving his last drop of life for us we realize that we
are called to the very same sacrificial life? Could it be that fixation on the
resurrection, made “sanitary” by the omission of the crucifixion, allows us to
believe we are called to live in painless power rather than in humility and
sacrifice?
Could it
be that the sight of the crucifix brings to the surface our regard for sin?
Should it not be impossible to set our eyes on a crucifix and allow any sinful
thought to linger in the same mind that is filled with that sight? Does the
sight of our sacrificial Lamb make us feel the pangs of every imperfect fiber
of our beings?
So it is with gratitude I wear this crucifix.
It keeps my heart focused on the lover of my soul; it keeps me submitted to the
cross I must take up daily to follow Him; it reminds me how much he loves the
rest of the world and how much he wants me to give to reach them.
Lest I
forget . . . Lead me to Calvary.”
This
is why we remember both the Palms that were waved during Jesus’ entry into
Jerusalem and the Passion of our Lord on this one Sunday. Lest we forget.
This is why we will gather for Holy Communion
this Thursday and recall the new commandment Christ gave us to love one
another, and serve one another. Lest we
forget.
This
is why people will gather this week for Good Friday services to pray for the needs
of the world for which Christ died. Lest
we forget.
In January of 2000, a friend of mine traveled
to Haiti on a seminary transcultural trip.
It was a trip that changed his life.
My friend shared with me an entry from his journal that he wrote on his
last day in Haiti and I’d like to share it with you. Here is what he wrote:
“In the
afternoon, we went to Cité Soleil, which is the worst, most impoverished part
of Port-au-Prince. I understand that
Mother Teresa once described it as being “hell on earth”, and she had obviously
seen a lot of impoverished, hellish places.
A woman
who sells souvenirs outside of St. Josephs’ Orphanage where we are staying in
Petionville, went with us because she lives there. We sat in the van for about fifteen minutes
on the edge of Cité Soleil before we drove in.
The woman and Yvon our translator went into a school for her son or
something.
While we
sat there I just watched people. I watched two men sitting next to a pile of
garbage of rotten fruit. There were more
flies than I have ever seen in one place swarming over the garbage, and landing
on the men too. They seemed oblivious.
I
watched an old man pulling a huge wooden cart laden with something. It was so large and heavy that is seemed to
control him.
I
watched dozens of children, ages 7-10, fetching water in 5 gallon containers on
their heads. Most seemed very curious
about us, and would smile and wave brightly when I waved or smiled. I kept trying to imagine Abby or Allie
fetching that water and working that hard, and I just couldn’t imagine it.
We drove
down to the dock where some small-sized boats were docked. Some people were bathing in the water, and
some pigs were in the shallow water. The
water looked filthy.
Within
sight of the dock is an oil refinery.
Some time ago, the refinery released some waste oil and it flowed down
the central open sewer canal of Cité Soleil.
Then, rains came and flooded Cité Soleil causing an oil slick to cover
everything. When the water receded,
everything was covered with oil. The
government’s solution was to set fire to Cité Soleil to burn off the oil, but
they didn’t warn people. Several hundred
people died. Everything is wood and so
close together. It would have been
horrendous!
We
started for the woman’s home who came with us.
We walked over open sewers, down narrow alleys that seemed to form a
maze between these little shacks. People
were sitting in the narrow passages; some were bathing or cooking. Children were amazed to see us, and shouted,
“Hey, you!” and ran after us. Some
wanted to hold our hands. Others
shouted, “Blanc, blanc” which means “White, white.” A woman tried to give her baby to one member
of our group because she believed he would have a better life.
For some
reason, the thought that went through my mind was that this must have been what
the Via Dolorosa was like for Jesus. The
surroundings were utterly depressing and hopeless. People were calling out; some seemed
friendly, others seemed to call out only because we were “blanc”.
I saw a
side of humanity—all of humanity—that Christ died for. It seemed to be all of the human brokenness
in the world, gathered into one place.
The
woman’s house was small. Two dark rooms
with no windows. They were oppressively
hot. They had dirt floors. Thirteen people live there. A baby sat on the ground, and I remembered
the statistic that most children in Haiti die before their fifth birthday.
The
woman showed us the shed where she keeps the things that she makes to
sell. I bought a wooden crucifix which
seemed appropriate given that I’d been thinking about Christ’s sacrificial love
for the world as I’d walked through those narrow alleys.
As we
left Cité Soleil, I could not find words to express what I had just seen. The van was very quiet on the drive
home.
That
night, I sat up on the roof of the orphanage for a while looking at the lights
of Port-au-Prince down below, and the mountains up above. It dawned on me that God is with us, each of
us no matter where we go. It doesn’t
matter if it’s Dayton or Haiti, or anywhere else. God is there.
More significantly, God is in Cité Soleil, and with God’s people there
just as much as he is anywhere else.
What
would it mean for me to identify with the suffering of the people in Haiti’s
poorest slum? What would it mean to take
on that suffering, and try to make a difference?
What
does it mean for Jesus to identify with the suffering of the whole world? I am thankful that the crucifix helps me to
remember.”
So ends
my friend’s journal entry.
And as we
encounter suffering here in our community, throughout the world, and even in
our own lives, maybe this is a cross that we need as well. A cross which reminds us that God knows what
it’s like to suffer for the sake of the world.
That’s
why we need the crucifix. Lest we
forget.
Crosses of Jesus: The Crucifix
Small Group Questions
Luke 23:26-49
April 9, 2017
This week concludes our crosses of Jesus Lent sermon series. We have looked at the Latin Cross (most like the shape upon which Jesus died), the Jerusalem Cross (sharing our faith with the whole world), the Tau Cross (God heals us physically, emotionally, & spiritually), the St. Andrew's Cross (humility),the Celtic Cross (God's eternal love), & the Crucifix (God's love for a suffering world.)
Which of these types of crosses has been most meaningful for you? Why?
The crucifix was not widely used by Christians until the 5th century because the graphic nature of this type of cross was too closely associated with the barbaric nature of crucifixions used by the Roman Empire.
Even though it is difficult to think about the details of Jesus' death on the cross because it was so gruesome, how can the cross and specifically the crucifix deepen your understanding of who God is?
Pastor Robert shared a friend's journal entry of his experience when he was on a mission trip to Haiti and experienced the immense poverty and suffering there. These are the words his friends wrote in his journal: "What would it mean for me to identify with the suffering of the people in Haiti’s poorest slum? What would it mean to take on that suffering, and try to make a difference?"
Where have you experienced God's presence in the midst of suffering? Share with the group.
Since this is Holy Week which includes Good Friday, the day that Jesus was crucified on a cross, have your small group share in this Good Friday prayer together:
Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment