WEEK 5—THE LAST WORDS OF CHRIST
Sunday, March 30—Day 26

But Jesus was saying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves.
Luke 23:34

The Power of the Cross
When Christ whispered, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do,” He was not only praying for his executioners, but for all of humanity. Poet Jacob Revius penned words we can identify with:                    

He Bore Our Griefs

No, it was not the Jews who crucified 

Nor who betrayed You in the judgment place,

Nor who, Lord Jesus, spat into Your face,

Nor who with buffets struck You as You died.

No, it was not the soldiers fisted bold

Who lifted up the hammer and the nail,

Or raised the cursed cross on Calvary’s hill,

Or gambling, tossed the dice to win Your robe.

I am the one, O Lord, who brought You there,

I am the heavy cross You had to bear,

I am the rope that bound You to the tree,

The whip, the nail, the hammer, and the spear,

The blood-stained crown of thorns You had to wear:

It was my sin, alas, it was for me.

For those outside Christ the cross is a universal symbol of torture, anguish and excruciating suffering. In Chaim Potok’s memorable novel, Asher Lev, the young artist paints his Orthodox Jewish mother on a cross because as the narrator explains, “There was no aesthetic mold in his own religious tradition into which he could pour a painting of ultimate anguish and torment.” And as artist Steve Monroe states, “Jesus did not have a monopoly on the cross. This is my way of showing how everyone suffers.”

Yet for those in Christ the cross is much more than a symbol of torment and grief. For believers the cross is the paramount symbol of radical love and unconditional forgiveness, a love and forgiveness tied together in an inseparable union that has forever transformed history. As Keith Getty’s hymn so eloquently states, “This the power of the cross, Christ became sin for us, took the blame and bore the wrath, we stand forgiven at the cross.”

Today’s work of art echoes Christ’s request from the cross. It’s a striking photograph taken at the Hill of Crosses outside Siauliai, Lithuania. Some sources suggest that since the 14th century crosses have been placed in the area as a silent protest against Lithuanian oppressors. In the 1800s under Russian domination, the installation grew into a memorial dedicated to loved ones cut down in a series of peasant uprisings. During the Communist occupation, the hill was completely bulldozed away three times. The crosses were burned and the site was turned into a dump for waste and sewage disposal. But quietly and persistently people from all over Lithuania came with more crosses and rebuilt the hill, silently proclaiming with each cross, Christ’s love and forgiveness for their godless enemies. Finally in 1985 the Hill of Crosses was allowed to flourish. At last count there are more than 100,000 crosses gracing the simple country hill, a hill that has become an international sacred space of peace and forgiveness.

“Father forgive them for they know not what they do,” echoed from the cross as Christ paid the price for our salvation. This forgiveness prayer has been repeated countless times throughout the centuries as multitudes of Christ’s followers have given their lives for the faith.

In 1996, GIA, a radical Algerian Muslim faction kidnapped and beheaded eight French Trappist monks serving as missionaries in the Atlas Mountains of Algeria. Sensing his time on earth was short, their leader, Prior Christian de Chergé, had written a letter forgiving his future terrorists, and left the sealed note with his mother in France. Opened only after his death, this is some of what it said:

If it should happen one day — and it could be today — that I become a victim of the terrorism that now seems to encompass all the foreigners living in Algeria, I would like my community, my church, my family, to remember that my life was given to God and to Algeria; and that they accept that the sole Master of all life was not a stranger to this brutal departure.

I would like, when the time comes, to have a space of clearness that would allow me to beg forgiveness of God and of my fellow human beings, and at the same time to forgive with all my heart the one who will strike me down.

I could not desire such a death; it seems to me important to state this: How could I rejoice if the Algerian people I love were indiscriminately accused of my murder?

My death, obviously, will appear to confirm those who hastily judged me naïve or idealistic: “Let him tell us now what he thinks of it!” But they should know that… for this life lost, I give thanks to God. In this “thank you,” which is said for everything in my life from now on, I certainly include you, my last-minute friend who will not have known what you are doing… I commend you to the God in whose face I see yours. And may we find each other, happy “good thieves” in Paradise, if it please God, the Father of us both.

“Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” This is the power of the cross!

Prayer
Dear Lord, Please remove all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking from my heart. Remove these damaging habits and replace them with your unconditional love. Make me to see as you see. Help me to be kind, patient, tenderhearted and forgiving to all, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven me, the chief of sinners. Amen.
Barry Krammes, CCCA Staff