Via Crucis

I have this idea of God, abundantly generous, overwhelmingly mighty, utterly creative.
Let me correct myself, it is not just an idea, it is a belief that I hold on to.
A belief handed on to me from generations, from traditions.
A belief that is now being shaken to the core.

Maybe that is not the kind of God that we have.
Maybe that is not the kind of God that we know.
Maybe we just don’t want to see and know God the way God wants to be seen and known.
Maybe we just delude ourselves that God will come, amidst lightning and thunder, chariots and all,
to take us away from death-dealing poverty and hunger,
to strike down our life-long oppressors,
and to once again let the light of a new day shine upon us.
Maybe we delude ourselves for we cannot anymore take that deep down gnawing pain not just in our stomachs but also at the very core of our souls,
for we cannot anymore accept the utter humiliation of being a failure if not all our lives, then at the end of our lives,
for we cannot anymore come to terms with that despairing reality that for all our weary toils, there is no consoling light at the end of our dark journeys.
And maybe, we cling to to our own limited fantasies of God, holding on to our frail yet fervent, stubborn hope that once again he will make us tremble with awe,
to avert our gaze from the shaky ground that is our lives being torn apart by violent hatred and betrayals.

Maybe, rather, certainly, God wants to be known as God is - helpless, powerless, hopeless.
One who will not take us down from our own crucifying sicknesses and deaths to assure us that all these are nothing but a bad dream for he too is crucified and dying.
One who will not stop us from being wounded, even killed, by the sins we inflict on ourselves for he too cannot stop the onslaught of hatred tearing at his flesh.
One who cannot offer a ray of hope to all of us desperately seeking for meaning for he too agonizes over the darkness of utter abandonment.
Our God is a helpless, powerless, hopeless God for all the things we want God to be.
And for that God makes himself known as he is.
For amidst our own frenzied desires to love and be loved, for our own frantic grasping for power and influence, for our own worried searching for comfort and solace,
for what we perceive as God’s helplessness in the face of our selfishness, as God’s powerlessness when confronted by our violence, as God’s hopelessness when dealt with our rejection,
God does what he does best - love.
Love with all his heart till it is burst open,
love with all his might till his bowed and bloody head touches our broken lives,
love with all that he can, against all odds till we get tired from all our fleeing.
For that is who God really is, when it comes to loving - abundantly generous, overwhelmingly mighty, utterly creative.


“Crucified
Laid behind a stone
You lived to die
Rejected and alone
Like a rose
Trampled on the ground
You took the fall...”
(Above All - Michael W. Smith)