Prisoner of Hope

Bread and Wine Reading: "Prisoner of Hope", Jurgen Moltmann

Scripture Reading: Mark 14: 32-36
They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.”

Of course, the cup was not removed. Jesus would ultimately go through an unbearably painful and unimaginable death. We as Christians struggle immensely with this. As Moltmann said, “We shall never be able to get used to the fact that at the very center of the Christian faith we hear this cry of the godforsaken Christ for God. We shall always attempt to weaken its effect and to replace it by ‘more pious’ parting words.” In our human minds, we can fathom no answer to the question of “why?” and we struggle with it. Why didn’t God step in at the last minute? Why didn’t God change the course of history? Why didn’t God save Jesus?

Moltmann contends that this question is at the center of Christ’s Passion, the center of the very God-experience. And rather than being the end of all human and religious hope, it is but the beginning. “For me,” Moltmann says, “it is the beginning of true hope, because it is the beginning of a life which has death behind it and for which hell is no longer to be feared.” Essentially, it is the deepest of hope born again from the deepest and most profound death, the very lowest of human godforsakenness.

We humans, of course, struggle when we think about death. And to think about death as hope is almost an anathema to our spirituality. After all, we believe in hope; we believe in life. But go back to the Hebrew Wisdom literature. Ecclesiastes tells us that “there is a time to die.” In other words, there is a time to let go, to move beyond where you are. And isn’t this what our whole Christian faith tells us? Death is not the end; it is the beginning of life.

What would it mean, then, to live with a “spirituality of death”, as Joan Chittister calls it in “There Is a Season”? What would it mean to let your old self die, to no longer cling to old ideas and old ways of doing things, no longer allow what is comfortable and usual to get in the way of the newness that God is offering? A spirituality of death brings light into the darkest dark and life into the most profound death. Without death, newness is never an option. That is the message of the cross—at the depths of human godforsakenness, God comes, breathes life, and death is recreated as life.

Discussion Questions:1.) In what ways do you struggle with Jesus’ Passion story, with the idea that God did not remove the “cup” from Jesus?
2.) How do you handle death? How do you deal with even dramatic changes, those “deaths” within your life?
3.) What does the concept of a “spirituality of death” mean for you? How would that change your faith journey?

So go forth and let go that God might create newness in your life!

Grace and Peace,

Shelli