The 17th-century British poet John Milton wrote a poem on the birth of Jesus called “Ode upon the Morning of Christ’s Nativity.” Afterward, he attempted to write a companion poem on the death of Jesus, but finally gave up. His collected works include the unfinished fragment, but underneath it he scrawled these words: “This subject the author finding to be above the years he had when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished.”
I suspect many of us feel that way when confronted by the Cross. Historians talk of political forces that put Christ there, theologians speak of the spiritual significance of the Crucifixion, preachers urge us to carry our cross, but most of us end up feeling as Milton did — the subject is “above the years” we have. The meaning of the cross remains beyond our grasp.
But today’s reading from John about the Crucifixion includes a very human story involving two people who were there at the cross with Jesus. It’s a story we can understand easily, and it tells us a lot of what we need to know about the Cross.
Mary and John at the cross
One of those present was the disciple John. That was his name, but when he referred to himself in the gospel he wrote, he called himself “the disciple Jesus loved.” It was not that Jesus had singled him out for special favor, nor that John thought Jesus loved him more than he loved Peter or James or Matthew or any of the others; he was simply saying that when he was in the presence of Jesus, he felt loved.
But bearing this label, “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” John appeared several times throughout the events from Thursday to Sunday of Holy Week.
He was, of course, present at the Last Supper, as were the other 11, but John was identified as being directly next to Jesus at the table.
...approximately 1,361 words remaining. You are not logged in. Please see options at the top of this page to view complete sermon.