In the Passion Narrative, Jesus shows his radical vulnerability. He is crucified as a criminal abandoned by his disciples, in pain and in agony, mocked by Romans, rejected by Jews.
Jesus shows himself so vulnerable and powerless to the level of exasperation. We have a feeling that Jesus could have done more to avoid such pain. He is mocked and ridiculed, betrayed and denied, humiliated and tortured; even criminalized, and yet he does not do anything to avoid it.
Even at his last moments when torture is unbearable, He shows no indication that he will use a final ace (or superpower), to pulverize his enemies (maybe we’ve watched too many Hollywood movies.) In fact, not even during His Resurrection, does Jesus seem to care about making things right, about swift revenge for those who wronged him. At the Cross, Jesus is hurt physically, socially, psychologically, in all possible ways, yet he is there showing his weakness as if He chose the path of vulnerability.
There is a paradox in the Cross. On one side, the more vulnerable we are, or we want to become, the easier it is to be hurt. Vulnerability exposes us like Jesus was exposed publicly on the Cross. We can become the easy target of gossip, judgement, prejudice and punished to ostracism. But at the same time, vulnerability makes us free. Jesus was a free man because he did not intend to negotiate power-bargains with Jews or Romans. Jesus did not have to pretend; He literally had nothing to lose. He chose not to carry the burden (or the chains) to have to play the role of the tough guy, or strong leader, not even confident believer (remember his crushing words “Father, why have you forsaken me?”).
The church is not a community of the convinced, or self-righteous; it is the church of the vulnerable.
The church is the community of those who become free to show their miseries, shortcomings and inadequacies; Those able confide in others about their poor skills in parenting, or their mediocre professionalism or their selfishness as partners and recognize their flaws and poor choices. It is a risky business, we can get hurt, but the more we show our cross, the more we recognize our vulnerabilities, and the more we accept them, the easier it will be to heal them.
Making ourselves vulnerable creates a sacred space where we can show our doubts, our uncertainties, our wrong doings, our regrets, our frustrations. We all fail, and we tend to fail often. We can hide our failures, or we can show them and be naked in our personal shameful cross. We may be hurt, but we may also open a space for empathy
… a space for compassion
… a space where we are not judged
… a space for acceptance
where vulnerability begets empathy, and then trust and then, love.
Jesus shows himself so vulnerable and powerless to the level of exasperation. We have a feeling that Jesus could have done more to avoid such pain. He is mocked and ridiculed, betrayed and denied, humiliated and tortured; even criminalized, and yet he does not do anything to avoid it.
Even at his last moments when torture is unbearable, He shows no indication that he will use a final ace (or superpower), to pulverize his enemies (maybe we’ve watched too many Hollywood movies.) In fact, not even during His Resurrection, does Jesus seem to care about making things right, about swift revenge for those who wronged him. At the Cross, Jesus is hurt physically, socially, psychologically, in all possible ways, yet he is there showing his weakness as if He chose the path of vulnerability.
There is a paradox in the Cross. On one side, the more vulnerable we are, or we want to become, the easier it is to be hurt. Vulnerability exposes us like Jesus was exposed publicly on the Cross. We can become the easy target of gossip, judgement, prejudice and punished to ostracism. But at the same time, vulnerability makes us free. Jesus was a free man because he did not intend to negotiate power-bargains with Jews or Romans. Jesus did not have to pretend; He literally had nothing to lose. He chose not to carry the burden (or the chains) to have to play the role of the tough guy, or strong leader, not even confident believer (remember his crushing words “Father, why have you forsaken me?”).
The church is not a community of the convinced, or self-righteous; it is the church of the vulnerable.
The church is the community of those who become free to show their miseries, shortcomings and inadequacies; Those able confide in others about their poor skills in parenting, or their mediocre professionalism or their selfishness as partners and recognize their flaws and poor choices. It is a risky business, we can get hurt, but the more we show our cross, the more we recognize our vulnerabilities, and the more we accept them, the easier it will be to heal them.
Making ourselves vulnerable creates a sacred space where we can show our doubts, our uncertainties, our wrong doings, our regrets, our frustrations. We all fail, and we tend to fail often. We can hide our failures, or we can show them and be naked in our personal shameful cross. We may be hurt, but we may also open a space for empathy
… a space for compassion
… a space where we are not judged
… a space for acceptance
where vulnerability begets empathy, and then trust and then, love.
