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| Christ from the Cross: Garth Bayley |
On the front of the service paper for this service is the
painting which our Artist in Residence, Garth Bayley, has produced for
today. We are used to looking at the
cross from the front, or even if we walk round it from behind, but Garth has
painting the scene as if it is the cross itself looking at Jesus. Rather than us being the spectator of the
events, looking from a distance away, even if that is just a few feet, this
picture makes us a participant. There is
nothing between us and the Jesus who hangs in front of us. In fact, we have become what he hangs
on. This is a remarkable shift in
perspective and it has set me thinking since I first saw it. What does it mean to be the cross of Christ
as opposed to merely looking at it?
We see his back, tortured and raw from the whipping, the
scourging. We see his head bowed
away. We see his muscles taut and
strained. This Jesus has endured extreme
physical suffering. It is not clear if
he has just died or is exhausted; quiet before uttering his last words. He wears the crown of thorns upon his head;
the mocking symbol of the true king from temporary passing rulers whose power
is a mere pale imitation of his. There
is a solidarity in viewing this from behind because he is in front of us and we
are following. There are many moments
when we can feel we are being crucified and sharing in the wounds of Christ.
We are the cross on which he hangs. It is our humanity that he is embracing in
being there and which holds him there.
It is the fallenness of the human condition that is the reason for his
needing to be there. In taking on the
death he is able to bring the life.
Easter when it comes does not come without Good Friday. The pain is given a place in this scene and
it is our pain that is borne there because we are the cross. This is not to blame us rather it is a
solidarity and a taking away. Christ
died for us, not for some other arbitrary, incidental reason.
As we look into the distance, beyond Christ, we see
nothing. Is this the vastness of
eternity, all time and nothingness? Is
this the mystery of everything which can only be gazed through Christ and
without him we have no hope of gazing or entering or encountering? It is as though all time with the clouds of
the day and night in fast forward sequence passing over or before him as he
hangs there. Salvation becomes a moment
in time and the critical moment of time.
This event judges and redeems in one moment. Are there any figures there on the edges? Can we make out Mary or John or the
soldiers? Have they all shrunk away out
of sight? Is this a lonely figure in the
utter loneliness of death and so we gaze on our own ultimate utter loneliness
before God with no pretence, no barriers, no hiding. We are who we are as we enter into the full
mystery that is God.
Because this image looks at the cross through the cross
itself it reminded me of the Anglo Saxon poem ‘The Dream of the Rood’ (see below). This is a long poem and so I abridged it for
this service. It is a dream and in the
dream there is a vision of the cross and the cross talks. It tells its story from being felled as a
tree and crafted into an instrument of torture.
There is the glory of God in gold mingled with the red of Christ’s blood
running down its side. Think of the
cross in our cathedral with the gilded Christ figure and the red of the cross,
it is reminiscent for me of this poem and the Saxon origins of the abbey. Because of the saving effect of Christ’s
death and resurrection, the cross becomes honoured as a symbol. When we become the cross, we share in that
honouring, honouring which comes from the Christ who hung on it. Through this hope is renewed with dignity and
with joy. We can call today Good Friday and not Bad Friday or Black, dark,
evil Friday which might seem more natural.
Address for Good Friday evening at Peterborough Parish Church, 18th April 2014
The Dream of the Rood
Anglo-Saxon, Abridged by Ian Black
1 Listen, I will tell the best of
dreams,
that came to me in the
middle of the night,
when voice-bearers dwelled
in rest.
It seemed to me that I saw
a more wonderful tree
5 lifted in the air, wound round with
light,
the
brightest of beams. That beacon was entirely
cased
in gold;
All
those fair through creation
10 gazed on the angel of the Lord there.
Nevertheless, I was able to
perceive through that gold
the
ancient hostility of wretches, so that it first began
20 to bleed on the right side. I was all
drenched with sorrows.
I was frightened by the
beautiful vision;
Yet as I lay there a long
while
25 I beheld sorrowful the tree of the
Saviour,
until I heard it utter a
sound;
it began to speak words,
the best of wood:
"That was very long
ago, I remember it still,
that I was cut down from
the edge of the wood,
30 ripped up by my roots. They seized me
there, strong enemies, made me a spectacle for themselves there, commanded me
to raise up their criminals.
Men
carried me there on their shoulders,
until
they set me on a hill,
enemies
enough fastened me there.
I
saw then the Saviour of mankind
hasten
with great zeal,
as
if he wanted to climb up on me.
He
stripped himself then, young hero
-
that was God almighty -
40 strong and resolute; he ascended on
the high gallows,
brave
in the sight of many, when he wanted to redeem
humanity.
I
trembled when the warrior embraced me;
even
then I did not dare to bow to earth,
fall
to the corners of the earth, but I had to stand fast.
I
was reared a cross. I raised up the powerful King,
45 the Lord of heaven;
They
mocked us both together.
I
was all drenched with blood
poured
out from that man's side
after
he had sent forth his spirit.
50 I have experienced on that hillside
many
51 cruelties of fate. I saw the God of
hosts
violently
stretched out. Darkness had
covered
with clouds the Ruler's corpse,
the
gleaming light. Shadows went forth,
55 dark under the clouds. All creation
wept,
lamented the King's death.
Christ was on the cross.
80 Now the time has come
that I will be honoured
far and wide
by people over the earth
and all this glorious creation;
they will pray to this
beacon. On me the Son of God
suffered for a while;
because of that I am glorious now,
85 towering under the heavens, and I am
able to heal
each one of those who is
in awe of me.
May the Lord be a friend
to me,
145 he who here on earth suffered previously
on the gallows-tree for
the sins of man.
He redeemed us, and gave
us life,
a heavenly home. Hope was
renewed
with dignity and with joy
for those who endured burning there.
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