In my book, See This Christ, you will read about The Laughing Christ, The Teaching Christ, The Angry Christ, The Healing Christ, The Servant Christ, The Dying Christ, The Risen Christ, and The Loving Christ; but I thought since Christians are celebrating the Lenten Season leading up to Easter, you might want to focus on The Dying Christ. You probably know the story of Christ’s crucifixion from Matthew 27:33-54. If not, it is recorded in my book in Chapter Six.

This is Jesus, King of the Jews! Pilate, although he is much maligned, I have always thought of him as an unwitting pawn in the crucifixion story. He tried offering an alternative to crucifixion, he tried to reason with Jesus and eventually washed his hands of the whole thing. And, when questioned about the sign above Jesus’s head and told he should have written, “This man said he was king of the Jews,” he answered, “what I have written, I have written.” A fitting epitaph for the King. I wonder what people thought when they saw that sign? It seems like crucifixions drew big crowds. And this one probably drew more than usual. The Pharisees and high priests were there, maybe to make sure he didn’t somehow come down from the cross and were gloating when it became obvious this man was going to die, just like every other “criminal” that was hung on a cross to suffocate. The average onlooker was there, perhaps out of morbid curiosity, perhaps because they were hoping to witness another miracle. Most of his disciples were not there, out of fear! Only John stood with the women at the cross.

So much of humanity is reflected through the witnesses to the crucifixion. How many of us ignore the signs that clearly point to Jesus as King? While we might not see a physical sign “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews,” we are given many signs if we are open to seeing them, and hearing them, and touching them. Are we open to full meaning of the scriptures when we hear them or read them? Do we really understand that we see Jesus in every person we meet, even the people we don’t like, the people who are different from us, the people who may not even believe in Jesus? But he is there. Do we feel Jesus when we touch a dying person’s hand, when we reach out to life someone who has fallen, when we make love?

How many times do we, like some of the witnesses to the crucifixion, gloat over other people’s misfortune? He deserved that! She had it coming to her! Boy, I’m glad I didn’t listen to him. I knew she was bad, and this just proved it! And how many times do we, like the disciples, just avoid conflict altogether. I am afraid if I speak my mind, people will think less of me. I don’t want to be seen anywhere near that person, or people will think I am like that. I will look the other way when I see the homeless on the street. I will assume that hooker standing on the corner is there because she is a sinner, not because she may be a victim of human trafficking. I will condemn the rich because they must be evil people. I will look the other way when injustices are right in front of me.

Jesus died and wept not for himself, but for our sins. Let’s at least show him the courtesy of drying his tears, of wiping the blood. A very wise woman who attended a retreat with me said “you can’t embrace the cross without getting blood on your hands.”

“How,” you might be saying, “can I wipe Jesus’ blood and tears away?” If only I had been there, I would have done it. “If only.” Two of the most dangerous words in the English language. If only I had time to help my neighbor who needs a ride to the store. If only that person didn’t treat me so poorly, I could find it in my heart to love them. If only my family obligations weren’t so demanding, I could find time to help at church. If only I wasn’t so busy at work, I could spend more time with my kids. If only I was smarter, younger, thinner, less afraid, I could do……. The “if onlys” seem to go on and on, don’t they? You can wipe away Jesus’ blood and tears, if only you see them and care enough to do something about it. You can do it every day. When you meet Jesus around you. In your family, in your friends, in your neighbor (that is everybody of course.)

About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lemasabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). How many times have felt forsaken by God? Probably more than once for most of us. Even Jesus cried and felt deserted by his friends and even his God. So, maybe when you are feeling that way, this might be a good time to reflect on this verse. And know that even if your friends forsake you, God has not. There are things God has in store for you that you might not understand during these lonely, grief-filled times, but you will see them later.

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split apart, and the tombs broke open. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!” We see the Roman centurions accepting Christ as the Son of God. The foreigners. The ones who occupied the land of the Jews. The hated ones. The powerful ones. Jesus revealed himself to a pretty motley crew of people when you think about it. Tax collectors, Romans, Samaritans, women, prostitutes, Pharisees, fisherman, traitors, thieves, insurrectionists, lepers, all were touched by this Christ during his life and as he lay bleeding, weeping, dying for all of them, and for all of us—the powerful, the rich, the poor, the blind, the homeless, the helpless, the believer, the nonbeliever, those of every nationality, every color, every religion. Just so we would learn to wash the blood and tears of each other.

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