The Passion of Jesus Christ is an invitation to courage and stoutheartedness-- and to hope. To contemplate the Passion, in the words of the prophet Zechariah, is to “look on Him whom they have pierced and to wail over Him as over an only child and grieve for him bitterly…” We often sing at our Eucharistic celebrations, as we did last night: we remember how you loved us to your death.” What we remember is what Johannes Metz would call “a dangerous memory”: we remember not only the death of Jesus but also we remember His vision for the world, a vision of love that has not and will not die.

What we remember and celebrate here tonight is particularly poignant this Holy Week of the year 2002. I don’t know about you, but I can’t say that I have really ever wept or been given the gift of tears--- in standing before a crucifix. But I have wept in fact I’ve said to people,I feel sometimes that I want to wail when I read the daily paper, I want to wail over the news, standing before the on-going Crucifixion of Christ in our world---stories of killing: murders and murderous poverty in our country and elsewhere, wars throughout the world, murder in our name by lethal injection or the electric chair in our federal and state prisons, stories of the excruciating suffering of refugees all over the world, the rapid, generally unprotested militarization of our nation, homelessness and hunger (most poignantly among our children), the trafficking of children and youth in a world - wide sex trade, the overwhelming sex-abuse scandal in our church, stories of betrayal and denial and massive retaliation then, of course, the indiscriminately in inclusive horror inflicted on people in NY, D.C., and PA. six months ago with the continuing grief of so many. With Christ on the cross this year are all of these and so many more. We wail, we grieve, and many ask “why”?

Of all the many engaging aspects of the Passion narrative from John that we just heard, my reflections this time kept coming back to two sets of people in it: 1) Pilate and those who condemned Jesus, and 2) Mary and the women at the foot of the cross with the beloved disciple. Contemplation of each set reveals two different ways of being, two contrasting visions of power: the first, Pilate and company, power over power against, the other, Mary and company, power with, power for . Truly, when all is said and done, they represent 2 sides of ourselves: the Pilate in me and the Mary in me.

Pilate, remember, tells Jesus that he has the power to release Him and the Power to crucify Him. Pilate, it seems to me, is basically honest, basically well-disposed, and would like so much to take a middle ground--in a struggle that is total. And so it is with us when we refuse to take a stand or to make decisions for what we know is right and just; Pilate’s behavior confronts us and asks us how we will exercise our power of decision-making. He shows us how the effort to remain neutral in a struggle that demands clear decisiveness inevitably moves us, as John’s writing would say, into darkness, into service of “the world” and away from the light, the reign of God, cowardice, not courage, faintheartedness, not stoutheartedness.

What of the other group, Mary and the other at the foot of the cross? Do they exercise any power as they simply stand there? I remember a poster from the 60’s that read “Don’t just do something; stand there” (reversing the usual advice for activism). These women and the beloved disciple do just that -- they stand there. They have stayed to the bitter end. and they are a powerful model at a large part of what it means to be a disciple, to be church. They dare to remain when Peter and the others have fled. They stand together -- silent, vigilant, supportive, strong to me. This is not a picture of passive resignation. Rather, they invite me to contemplate a power in silent witness that is daring, life-affirming and love affirming. Their ministry at the moment is one of accompaniment, of standing with, of presence to, of support of, where Pilate speaks of a power over, they speak of a power with, much like their crucified friend, and they bring into my prayer all the ‘silenced’ members of the human community. those who have no voice, teaching me at least one step in my learning to accompany those crucified by our world today. “Courage and stoutheartedness” their hope is in God.

We need to spend time with this moment of sorrow and grief, even as we will also spend time in the moment of joy and glory. The whole is one extraordinary mystery thru which we are empowered to live in extraordinary hope. Despite a climate of hopelessness surrounding us on today’s culture, there are more than a few glimpses -- sometimes full -fledged visions of hope. Just this week I read of a group of women in a little colony in Mexico who have been helped by a grant from Mary’s Pence, they have changed an abandoned garbage dump into a livable village with among other things, a clinic. So sure are the residents of the success of all their efforts, the clinic is wired for electricity even though there is no source of electric power--yet. This is hope. That is an example of the power of the Paschal mystery active today. Surely there is crucifixion all around us, there is, also resurrection.

“Take courage and be stouthearted all you who hope in God.”

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