A Holy Week to Mourn

As a pastor I must confess that in this moment I am not sure how to talk about Easter when we are surrounded by crucifixion. I can hear my Christian clergy colleagues firmly remind me that we must have faith and preach the hope of resurrection to make meaning of the executed body of Christ. The ancient Christian pilgrimage tradition of the Stations of the Cross, or the Via Dolorosa contains 14 steps beginning with Jesus being condemned to death and ending with his body being placed in the tomb. There was no 15th step of an empty tomb. Fourth century Christians knew there was value in contemplating the unjust and violent death of Jesus. They knew how important it was not to look away, and to be present with his broken body. When we celebrate the eucharist, we do not share the host with the words “Body of Christ resurrected for you.” We say “Body of Christ broken for you.” It is dangerous for us to forget this memory lest we become those who crucify. But we do forget.

This Holy Week feels broken to me. There’s too much rubble. Too many broken bodies, countless lives destroyed, crushed, blown to bits. Every day feels like Good Friday without an Easter, and I want to be honest about that. Holy Week is a time for mourning, and I don’t want to look away. We need Holy Week, we need to mourn. I want to see the truth of Holy Week, see the Stations of the Cross because they are everywhere! Cuba, Iran, Gaza, Ukraine, Jerusalem, Lebanon, Los Angeles, Tennessee, we are surrounded by the Stations of the Cross as we crucify and are crucified. If those who control the Department of War had to first wash the feet of the people they choose to drop bombs on, would they still do it? I think we need the sacrament of washing each other’s feet as much as we need the eucharist.

At the base of the cross stand the women, and mothers choke on the sorrow fed to them by empire. These are the women who wash feet, who anoint bodies. We can choose to look away, but the cross remains. Do not avert your eyes or rob mothers of their sorrow. Good Friday is a holy day of broken hearts and shattered community. Good Friday calls us to sit in the desolation of it all having burned down, and the belief that our hopes and dreams were for nothing. Many Christians cannot sit with that Christology as part of their religion and do not understand the holiness of the calling to be present in the brokenness. Be silent and hear Mary weep. There are a thousand Marys in Iran today.

Lord knows we need the hope of resurrection, but before that we need a Harrowing of Hell. We need a Harrowing of Hell from Los Angelas to Lebanon to drive out the demons of war and free the crushed from beneath shattered cities. We need a Harrowing of Hell to break open the gates and doors of our countless private prison hells and loosen the chains of the captives in detention centers and deportation concentration camps. We need a Harrowing of Hell in the halls of Congress to drive out the cult of death that resides there.

Pope Leo XIV during his Palm Sunday message resoundingly rejected the notion that God justifies this war, and reminded those in power, through the words of the prophet Isaiah, “Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen: your hands are full of blood.” (Is 1:15) Hands can heal or break, and right now the sins of our government covers all of our hands in blood. I do believe in resurrection, and I also know we can’t get there if we are participating in crucifixion.

Originally published in the Bennington Banner