Friday: Stigma/Stigmata
Today is the Day of Truth.
Today there is nowhere to hide from reality.
There is no escape from the awful, damaging depth of human sin, but there is also no escape from the life-changing knowledge of the lengths that God will go to in order to save us, in order to bring us home.
Today is a day for looking at your life and asking, “What is my deepest truth? Where do I plant my flag and say, ‘Come hell or high water, I stake my heart and my life and my soul on this truth, right here, right now.’?
As we stand in the shadow of the Cross today, as we brave every nerve in our body to look on the bleeding face of our suffering Savior, that truth may come to us in different ways.
We may express it in different words.
Every year I watch as Holy Week develops within me, over the weeks of Lent and over the days and hours leading up to this service.
And this year, the truth that is larger than I am, the truth that sends a rod of steel up my backbone, the truth that will stay with me no matter who or what else deserts me, comes in familiar words:
“I know that my Redeemer liveth, and at the latter day he shall stand upon the earth. And though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God. I myself shall see, and my eyes behold him who is my friend and not a stranger.”
These are of course the words of Job in chapter 19 of his book, but we are perhaps most familiar with them as the burial anthems, the words that are said at the opening procession into the church at a funeral.
Today is a day of chaos, and we need somewhere to anchor ourselves as the world spins out of control, as we see our God bleeding his life away in front of our very eyes.
Everything is deserting us, we are deserting him, and there is nothing to rely on.
Who will take care of us if Jesus is dead?
Who will hold back the forces of evil?
Who will shield us from the darkness and love us even though we make the same stupid mistakes over and over again?
These words from Job are a promise, but they are not a promise to save us from suffering.
They are not a shield or a protection from pain or fear or death.
They are a promise of what will come on the last day, what awaits us on the other side of our long struggle to be faithful and to be changed into a manifestation of God’s love in the world.
And they’re not just a promise to us or about us. They’re a promise about Jesus. Continue reading