"Born to Die"? Not Exactly.

I haven't updated this blog in a while, and I would not have pictured myself taking the time to do it on Good Friday, but I had a quick reflection stored up.

So, I have a very vivid memory of a Christmas parade in Easton, MD, which made an impression on me. Most of the floats (including the one for the church I was serving at the time) were very much in the spirit of the season: stables and animal costumes and cute little kindergarteners in white robes and angel wings.

And then there was this one church, whose float was a big papier-mache globe, with an even bigger cross in front of it, and huge letters in front of that, saying, "BORN TO DIE." And that was it. Huh.

I know for a fact that this church did not make up this slogan. It's a fairly common refrain among Christian groups. And the reason, I think, is because of the tremendous significance of Good Friday, and of the sacrifice Jesus made for us and for all people. In churches across the world, expect to hear this opening versicle: "Behold the life-giving cross, on which was hung the salvation of the whole world." There you have it. It's huge. Jesus, by his death, destroyed the power of death, so that in his earth-shattering resurrection we would hear an echo from the future: of our own eternal life with God.

But does that translate to "Born to die"? Does the importance of Jesus dying on the cross, the centrality of this event for Christian (and even human) history, overshadow any other significance the life of Jesus might have had? I think the Bible says otherwise.

I remember reading (but can't find the quote just now) from Brian McLaren, in his book, "A Generous Orthodoxy", who speaks of the tragedy of the Christian creeds: that they tend to jump right from Jesus' birth, to his suffering and death. No teaching. No healing. No binding up the broken-hearted. No good news to the poor. no blessings for the meek, the poor in spirit, none of that. He was born, he died for us. End of story.

Now, why the creeds (both Apostles' and Nicene) are formulated that way is a much longer story, on which I'll admit I am not an expert, but long story short, they were meant to settle disagreements. Encased in these words were the winning arguments of theologians on the right side of history. But what happened between Jesus' birth and his death, everybody basically agreed upon, because that was the meat of all four canonical gospels, as well as many of the others people were reading at the time.

So let me ask a painfully obvious question: What did Jesus say he was here to do? Well...

To let the oppressed go free.
To testify to the Truth.
To give abundant life.
To seek out and save the lost.
To serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Does this mean Jesus didn't plan to die on the cross? Was the whole thing an unexpected and horrible tragedy? Absolutely not. You can even see in the last quote, that Jesus fully understands the consequence of living a life so committed to love, justice and truth. He wasn't chomping at the bit to make it happen, of course: he prayed earnestly that there'd be some other way. But he knew well that if he embodied his teachings, and practiced what he preached, the cross was the only place this thing could end.

One big danger with "born to die theology"--the tendency to zoom so closely in on the cross that you lose the context of the beautiful life it ended--is that, ironically, it can kind of sanitize what was truly a hideous display of Imperial might and brutality. It somehow feels more "okay" if Jesus was totally cool with it; if he and God the Father shook hands on it before the little Bethlehem excursion; if it was three hours of pain followed by heavenly bliss not only for him but all the billions who would later believe.

Another danger with such a tight close-up on the cross: seeing it as the only important thing Jesus ever did--is it empties Jesus' life of its prophetic power. It erases his weeping for Jerusalem, his turning the tables to expose a society robbing its poor, his free food and healthcare initiatives, for goodness' sakes!

Finally, if we take the cross out of context, it becomes a one-off incidence of suffering: as though in comparison, everything that has ever happened since, is small potatoes. Every unjust trial. Every mocking word. Every dehumanizing policy. Every cold-blooded murder. Every Holocaust. As long as those being politically and socially crucified today can accept Jesus as their savior, and acknowledge his sacrifice on the cross, well, then their suffering doesn't matter anymore, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.

Ironically, to see "only" the cross, empties the cross of its power. To get caught up in the "wonder" of that "wondrous" cross, makes us forget that it wasn't wonderful at all. Nor is the pain and injustice today, which he died to end.

The cross is important because it was the culmination of Jesus' walking the way of the cross: the way of total obedience to God, of making God's kingdom of justice and peace a reality in the world around him. And yes, because the result of that walk--the life, not just the death--was salvation for us and all who can trust in God. But nobody--not even Jesus--was "born to die." God likes life. That's why God invented it.