John 19:25-30
“Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine” — Patti Smith
The Crucifixion of Jesus ben Joseph may be seen in two ways: as historical event, or as myth. As a historical event, we have little record beyond the Biblical canon. So far as I know, Josephus is the only contemporary historian who refers to Jesus. If Roman records of the crucifixion of this itinerant preacher in a backwater of the Empire exist, I am not aware of them.
One thing seems clear in the canonical account: the execution of Jesus is a political act. Jesus' popularity threatens the religious authorities, to begin with. And although he has preached peace, there is always the chance he will incite a revolt. Or, more likely, some of his more radical followers might incite one. The Sanhedrin cannot risk that, for they know Rome will crush any revolt, and what little power the Sanhedrin has will be destroyed. As one leader is quoted in the Gospel of John, "it is better ... that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish" (Jn 11:49).
But there is a deeper reason for this execution. Jesus has had the audacity to speak truth to power. As such, he has fullfilled the role of a prophet. And, as he acknowledges, the people kill their prophets. In fact, this might be a good test of whether one is a true prophet: if he or she is still alive past the age of 30, odds are that one is no prophet.
By the way, the age of prophets did not end with Jesus. The 20th Century had its share: Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr, perhaps even Malcolm X. I'll be clear that an early death is not the sole qualification for prophet. But it's a good one. And one that disqualifies many who claim to be speaking in God's name today.
The traditional mythic explanation of the crucifixion is summed up in the phrase, "Jesus died for our sins." In this formulation, Jesus serves the function of the Sacrificial Lamb, taking our sins upon himself, and thus freeing us from the burden of sin. Because he is the Son of God, this sacrifice is for the whole world, for all time. As Paul writes, "Jesus came into the world to save sinners." (1 Tim 1:15).
This seems antiquated and barbaric. I don't want to contemplate a God who would behave this way. I don't even want to contemplate a God who would require any sort of sacrifice. I especially cannot abide the thought of a God who sends his only Son with the express purpose of suffering the worst form of torture and death that could be devised in the last century before the common era.
How can we worship a God we would turn into the police or child welfare if he lived down the street from us?
Perhaps the crucifixion is symbolic of a type of integration and transformation. In his novel The Last Temptation of Christ, Kazantzakis postulates that the last temptation came on the cross, and the temptation was to live as an ordinary man. The inference is that Jesus overcame all other temptations, and this last one was consumed on the cross.
I think of sin as anything that stands in the way of my becoming what Maslow called an "actualized person" and what Jung called "the individuated personality". It is not a matter of good and evil, or light and shadow, for these seeming contraries are but poles of one whole. It is a matter of looking at the Shadow, and considering what gifts it may offer. Not all gifts must be accepted, but all must be honestly considered and evaluated.
That which is not me must be transformed from a stumbling block to an aid. It must be, in this sense, crucified. This model in essence turns the traditional forumaltion on its head. Rather than Jesus dying for my sins, I symbolically participate as the crucified. I offer my whole self — light and shadow — to that radical transformation, that I may become as fully integrated as Jesus was.
Just as Jesus was transformed from the Hanged Man to the Savior Dancing.
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