We Proclaim Christ Crucified

Reflection on Scriptures from the 3rd Sunday of Lent: Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19:8-11; Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-25

“We proclaim Christ crucified,” they say. What if that were true?

I don’t know exactly what stories you’re consuming, but I’m seeing some stories of Christ glorified, and more stories of the ego glorified. It’s often about who won that race or achieved that FKT. They talk about what faction is gaining power or the latest gossip. What would happen if we remembered some stories of Christ crucified in our lives?

The Path of Descent

I want to tell you about a backpacking trip to Coyote Gulch in southern Utah. There was no official trail, but as we descended into the canyon, we would pass through the creek regularly. Sometimes, we were faced with a decision to take a trail over an obstacle or another back into the water. More often than not, the best path was down, back into the water. It asked me to remember to return to the living water, which always flows down to the lowest place. It showed me the abundant life at the bottom that the water provides. 

This is a universal pattern: We descend first. Then we’re at the bottom. Finally, we’re raised up again and joined with the reign of God.

This is a universal pattern: We descend first. Then we’re at the bottom. Finally, we’re raised up again and joined with the reign of God. It’s one of the foundational Christian stories. Jesus shows us the way, and this is how it goes. Suffering is universal, and it’s one of the most common questions I hear in ministry. “Why did this happen to me?” and “How could God let this happen?”

What if Christ were there with you on that descent?

What if Christ were there with you on that descent? What if you could see your story of suffering as a part of the bigger story of Christ’s suffering? What if you could join your groans with those of the whole of creation? (Rm 8:23-24)

One of my rock bottom moments feeling that groan happened in the spring of 2017 as I rolled around on the floor of my apartment writhing in pain for what felt like hours. I had no physical injury, but I had injured others. I was being held accountable for the pain I had caused due to my codependence and emotional distancing. It had been a long time coming, and the descent was real. 

He was naked and tortured. Best we can tell, he despaired of God’s loving presence in what must have seemed like his hour of deepest need. Then he died, and most of  the disciples hid and left. They despaired too.

These days, discussing Christ crucified can come with some baggage that overlooks the suffering and humiliation. Jesus did not have a happy or easy or glorified experience on the cross. He was naked and tortured. Best we can tell, he despaired of God’s loving presence in what must have seemed like his hour of deepest need. Then he died, and most of  the disciples hid and left. They despaired too. What they had sacrificed their livelihoods and connections for was over as far as they knew. There was no reason to hope for those three days Jesus was in the tomb. Is there any part of that story you can relate to?

I’m sure most of my readers could “one-up” my story above and have experienced something worse, so think of your example. Or think of the daily sufferings you experience because they’re all connected.  Or think of all the ways you choose to suffer (what some call sacrifice). I chose to run hill sprints this morning. A couple weeks ago, I chose to skin up the ski resort hill rather than take the chair lift. Last year, I chose to attempt a 43-mile double crossing (as Anton Krupicka likes to call it) of the Grand Canyon in one day.

 I’m thankful that some of the stories of struggle and failure in trail and ultra running get told. I think we choose these things in part because they bring us low, and I want to explore how our running can join us with Christ crucified. From the body’s perspective, each run is not a moment of building up. That happens afterward. This is much clearer regarding hard workouts, long runs, and races, but even though “it never always gets worse,” these activities break us down.

…the ascent is reliable and out of our hands.

Another parallel to this metaphor is that the ascent is reliable and out of our hands. Sure, I can sleep plenty, eat well, and do all the self massage I need, but ultimately “I” am not the one in there building new capillary beds, making new muscle or red blood cells, turning on or off different hormones, or whatever else it actually takes to adapt to training. I am doing my best to cooperate with those processes already at work. In the same way, God is present, walking with you, knows your suffering, and is actively working to transform it in collaboration with you.

What can you do? What can our community do?

This is about collaboration. It’s about relationship. It’s about simplicity, devotion, and public virtue. It’s not about insulating ourselves from the suffering around us. It’s not about over-consumption, the tyranny of our fears, or individualism. It’s not about a transaction of temple sacrifice in exchange for God’s blessing or acting like following the 10 Commandments is enough. If we proclaim Christ crucified, then we’re telling stories of descent. It’s not an easy story to tell because the hero is not us. We don’t have control of the happy ending. Nevertheless, we persist, knowing that honesty about the descent makes a solid foundation for God to build the rest. See you at the bottom.

• How is God calling you into collaboration? 

• How is God calling you to proclaim Christ crucified this Lent? 

• What is it in your story that you know God would understand because of Jesus’ experience on the cross? 

• How is your life and your running a sign of Christ’s suffering? 

• How does it remind you of this bigger pattern you’re a part of? 

• How is it a kind of practice for other areas of your life where you suffer or sacrifice? 

• What momentum can you keep from your running that helps you move through the most difficult parts of your life?