News and Ideas from around the Anglican World

   about us    

   contact us   

   subscriptions

     HOME

     InternationalNews 

 

                                    ARCHIVE 

  

  

_____________________________________________________________________________

  

April 2006

   

What shall I do with Jesus?

 

Bp Ron Ferris

 

This was a question faced by Pilate. It is a question that is faced by each of us daily. The Gospel accounts are a masterpiece of how people react to Jesus. The story grips us because we are in the story. We ask the words with Pilate, “What shall I do with Jesus?”


There was an urgency in the question. Pilate had a riot on his hands. He had the choice of dealing with Christ or facing disorder. There is the same kind of urgency in our lives. There is a disorder within each of us. Christ causes a crisis of decision. He comes unexpectedly into the riot that is in the heart. He comes to sort out our hearts.


We can bind Him and lead Him away. We can keep Him safely tied up. We can recognize the threat that he poses to our values, our possessions, our sense of propriety. We can be jealous of the claim that His love has on us and those around us. When He calls to us from within for some act of tenderness or generosity or sacrifi ce, do we fi nd Him threatening? Do we bind Him and lead Him away?


We can betray Him. Christ speaks within us, calling us to a life of purity — to a life of simplicity. We are to be free of scheming, intrigue and getting the advantage over others.  We are called to an honest and transparent goodness.  When we dissemble or manipulate, we also betray His truth.


As with the wife of Pilate, does He trouble us? Do we say, “Have nothing to do with this just man”? There are inconsistencies in our lives that make His presence and His purity deeply disturbing. What are the times in the week when His presence would cause severe embarrassment?  Like Pilate, we might admire Jesus, but we wash our
hands. Pilate was the epitome of culture, education, power, and civilization. Yes, we admire Jesus. He has a lot of good things to say. But, like the typical administrator,— “I wash my hands.” “I am sorry but there really is nothing I can do.” “If only I had more evidence that Christ was God’s spokesman, then I could certainly act on it.” “I am not going to threaten the good position I have worked so hard for.” “I admire Him, but at a safe distance.” The administrative way of dealing with Jesus is well known in our secularized age.


“Crucify Him, we want Barabbas!” We want another saviour. Christ’s way of love is too costly and unsure.  We can make our communities better places through politics, or money, or pride, or recreation, or education, or awareness.  Would not science or technology be amore certain saviour? Give us Barabbas — a quick hero — something practical. Let us see the results. Do not send us a saviour demanding self-sacrifice and holy love.


The soldiers stripped and mocked. Obscenity takes weird delight in destroying what is precious to others.  People gain fame and notoriety by obscene depictions of Jesus in art and film.  We, too, are guilty of stripping and mocking Jesus whenever we treat people without the
dignity they have as God’s children.


They that went by, wagged their heads. “We told you so!”  “You deserve everything that has come to you!” When we see others who are over-extended and vulnerable, do we say, “I told you so”? “Where is your God now?”, they asked.  “The thieves also cast the same in his teeth.” To the world, the self-giving love of Jesus Christ just does not add up.


“Why do people help the poor when their own children do not have everything they need?” “Why do people leave promising careers to go and work for a charity?” “How can you visit the sick and the dying when it is so depressing?”  “Why do you sacrifice for the faith when it would be so much easier to go with the flow?”


As the Passiontide story proceeds, we come to the tragic line of high drama.  “Now when the centurion and those with him, who were keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were terrified and said, ‘Truly, this man was God’s Son!’” (Matthew 27.54).  “Christ, we are sorry. We did not know it was you!” Will that be our excuse at the end of time? Will there be for us a tragic discovery, made too late?


There is a courtroom in each of us.  Christ, each day, appears in that courtroom.  We can recognize ourselves in each character of the Passiontide story.  There is not one person in the whole story who saw until too late, even the Apostle Peter!


The Passiontide story is a miracle.  It is not simply a story about long ago.  It is a story about you and me.  It is a story about a decision.

 

 

 

 

The Rt. Rev’d Ron Ferris, former Bishop of the Yukon,
is now the Bishop of Algoma, in the province of Ontario
(which spreads all the way from Thunder Bay in the
west to just over into Quebec in the east). Bishop
Ferris recently celebrated the 25th anniversary of his
consecration to the episcopate.

 

     TAPintoCanada

     EdibleThoughts

     TAPintotheWord

     OntheFrontline

     EditorialTAP

     theTAPinterview

     Bookreviews  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright The Anglican Planet © 2006