Pastor's Column May 2006

The Empty Cross on the Other Side of Easter
by K Karpen

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are bent on drowning, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. (I Corinthians 1:18)

Six or seven of us were on our way downtown, taking the #1 train down to Times Square. That's usually no big deal, but it was Good Friday, and we had our eleven foot tall cross along for the ride.

We got into the subway station OK, and somehow managed to maneuver the thing through the subway door. They don't make those things with eleven-foot crosses in mind. The subway car wasn't too crowded, which was a blessing.

Once the six or seven of us were safely inside and the doors closed, we tried to swivel the cross around so we'd have an easier time getting it out when we reached our destination. People gave us some space, pretending not to stare at us, or at our eleven-foot companion.

One man, though, was trapped in his seat and couldn't move away. He looked at the cross heading his way, turning a little green, I thought. "We'll be careful," I told him. "That's OK," he said. "That could never hurt me. That could only help me."

Still, we know that lots of people have been hurt by the cross. Jesus, for one. Lots of people still are hurt by the cross. Not by what it means to you and me: love, hope, the power of life over death. No, that's a side of the cross they may never see. Because in the wrong hands the cross may mean other things: fear, ignorance, prejudice, an arrogant triumphalism. Too many people throughout history have known the cross not for its saving power, but for its power to condemn, vilify, exclude and crucify: Jews, Muslims, the wrong kinds of Christians. And we're all still paying the price.

I look at the cross differently on this side of Easter. During Lent, we moved toward the cross with a mixture of faith and dread, pain and resolve. "Jesus, keep me near the cross," we sang. Because we knew that left on our own we'd bolt. During Lent, the empty cross was the rude ending of the Jesus story: failure, embarrassment, pain, death.

Ah, but on the other side of Easter! On the other side of Easter, the empty cross reminds me that death isn't the end of the story. Life goes on, despite the daily power of death. Love goes on, despite the narrowness of hate. On the other side of Easter, I know the cross can never hurt, only help.

To us who are being saved it is the power of God, says Paul about the cross. And the only power of God is love.