Waiting with the Bloody Cross

First the meal, then the ordeal.  And now, we wait.

I think of those first disciples, both the ones we know of, and the ones that will forever be unnamed.  I think of them stunned by a variety of grief.  There's the primary grief of death:  our loved one will never return.  We've lost them forever.

There's the grief of unresolved outcomes:  the words we never got around to saying, the emotions we held choked up in our bodies for fear of expressing them.  There must have been the grief of how it might have been.  I think of the disciples, some of whom must have been saying, "I thought he was going to get away with it.  He pulled it off for so long, this speaking the truth that we've been told must be left alone.  I thought they might let him live."

I imagine the disgruntled ones, the ones who could see this outcome coming from miles away, the ones who say, "Well, I knew this wouldn't end well.  I told Jesus . . . "  I think of the ones who might have even argued with Jesus and tried to convince him to try a different approach, to fly under the radar where he could live and continue his incredible work.  What good is a savior who is dead?

I think of the ones who feel betrayed--so many ways to feel betrayed.  I think of the ones who might have said, "Well, he's hanging on a cross of his own making."  I think of the ones who wanted a more violent revolution, the ones who were so disgusted that they were ready to burn it down (it being society or the other disciples or Jesus himself or  . . . well, anything at all).

I think of the ones who must have felt stranded or marooned.  What to do next? 

The women point the way, as they so often do.  Saviors come and go, compelling ideas collapse, communities lie in ruins, but the daily work must be done.  There are mouths to feed and dead bodies to wash, and spice mixtures to create to cover the stench of death all around us.

It's interesting to think about how the Gospel writers handle the resurrection part of this story.  It's the women who return to the tomb because they see the work that is still left to be done.  In doing the drudgery work of dealing with the body, they are the first witnesses to the resurrection.

As we do our own drudge work, cleaning up after those in our communities who leave chaos in their wake, let us remember that the payoff may be that we are the first to witness the miraculous.

For those of us who are grieving for those who are crucified, hanging on crosses of their own devising or being tortured by the government/society, let us remember that the bloody cross doesn't have to be the final answer.