Every year on Good Friday, at the church I attend, members of the congregation are asked to lead a personal meditation on the last words of Jesus before his death on the cross.
Last year I was asked to speak on the words: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing. Here is what I said:
My first
memory of Easter isn’t of chocolate bunnies and colorful eggs, but of GoodFriday. I was four years old at the time, living in a small town in Alberta. Playing
in the kitchen one day, I heard the announcer on the radio mention Calgary. I
turned to my mother and asked: Is Calgary far from here?
Not very far, she replied. Why?
I want to go and see where Jesus
died, I replied.
I was
disappointed to discover that Jesus didn’t die in Calgary, Alberta but in a
distant place called “Calvary” – across
the ocean, too far away to visit. Why was everything in
the Bible so far away, in time and place?!
Fast forward
25 years, and I am (strangely enough) living in Jerusalem, Israel, teaching at
the Anglican International School and studying at the Hebrew University. I have
become familiar with many Biblical places I never expected to visit: Mount
Zion, the Mount of Olives, Bethlehem, Nazareth. But one place I haven’t visited
is Calvary: Why? The city of Jerusalem has changed so much in 2000 years that archeologists
can’t agree on its exact location.
But I’m
learning a lot. Among other things, I am learning what it is to be a Christian.
As I desperately try to finish my thesis, I deliver a chapter to my Jewish professor
for his comments.
When I return a few days later to discuss any changes, he
says: You’re a Christian, aren’t you?
Christians believe in forgiveness… Well, I have a confession to make. I lost the
envelope with your work in it. Can you bring me another copy?
Students
today wouldn’t understand, but in the mid 1970s personal computers were unheard
of. Photocopiers were new. It hadn’t occurred to me to photocopy the rough
draft I had given him, so I didn’t have another copy. I remember rushing home
in a panic, trying to remember what I had written.
But I
couldn’t be angry now, could I? I was a Christian. Christians
forgive…
When Jesus’
disciples asked him to teach them to pray, he taught them the Lord’s Prayer,
and in it: Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. And just in
case the disciples didn’t really get it, he repeated: Because if you forgive people their offenses, your heavenly Father will
also forgive you. But if you do not forgive people their offenses, your Father will not forgive your offenses.
For me, Good
Friday is the hardest day of the Christian year because it makes me stand at
the foot of the cross and view the crucifixion of Jesus the only way I can - though the eye witness reports found in the New
Testament gospels. These detailed accounts, which gripped me when I was 4, grip
me still. After all these years, I still cringe when I read of the mocking, the
insults, the scourging, the crown of thorns, the weight of carrying the cross,
and the crucifixion.
So I am shocked
when Jesus, nailed to a cross where he hangs in excruciating pain, cries out: Father, forgive them, for they don’t know
what they are doing.
Forgive
them…? The onlookers hurling insults at him? The soldiers who have removed his
clothing and now are gambling for his garments? Forgive all who have participated
in bringing him to this horrible moment of pain and shame?
Like Jesus’
disciples, James and John, when rejected by a group of Samaritans, my natural
inclination would be to pray for fire to come down from heaven to destroy all
his enemies. But Jesus
rebuked James and John. Fire and instant retribution are not his way. Jesus way is
the way of forgiveness: Father, forgive them, for they don’t know
what they are doing.
These words call
us – Christ’s followers - to a life of forgiveness, too: Forgive us our sins as we
forgive those who sin against us. Forgive me my sins as I forgive all
who sin against me.
