for those who wonder – i live because Christ does. there is no other way, no alternative, however crazy this sound.
every good friday, for the past 20 years or so, i think of Christ’s death. of the narratives that are read and repeated endlessly for at least 15 hundred years. whom he met. who said what. how much was forgotten, and how much culturally encrypted.
in my early years i thought i’d like to be there. when he died. to see for myself, to feel the heat of spring sun in Jerusalem. to hear the crowd, to.. experience the ambience. that ended with an actual experience of crowd, and a blackout from sheer noise and pressure of too many human bodies. no. i do not want to experience that time.
there are reasons for this: first, there would be too much of crowd. second, i would be predetermined to shout ‘crucify him’ – because this is what historically happens. third, i’d have blacked out from too many humans around me, the smell, the colours, the sound – probably trampled underfoot. in the past. um.
then i thought of the death of Christ as a thought experiment. if there were an all-powerful god, really all-powerful. what if he had an elegant solution to the problem of the beta-version of creation. like taking all the mistakes and errors and faults and whatnot and formatting that drive. and doing a clean install afterwards. that cost him life, but he was all-powerful, right? so he saved… that would bring Gödel’s incompleteness to the foreground, but we are talking about an omnipotent being here, right?
then i thought of who Christ is. my beloved. my love. my one. and the ugliness of the narratives only adds to him being my only one. super-humanly, out-worldly, mysteriously he speaks to me and is ever near. and even though i’d rather he did not die for one like me, without much worth or achievement in the flow of global history, he did. all i can do is either reject this inconceivable gift never to be matched, or accept it and be humbled beyond humility. as i cannot reject him because i love him, i must accept. the greatest sacrifice. the most stupid thing a lover might do. his death.
what this shows is – love vanquishes death. again and again, love remains, seeing as it should be, unmarred, clear and accepting. He has accepted me. now i must accept him.
and so we dance in the formal pattern. silently and forever, slowly and outside time, bonded and free. his death is my death. his rising, my life.