Seeing the Cross

If the cross on which Jesus died was through some mysterious act still standing outside of Jerusalem as it was back then when the dying body of Jesus hung on it, what one of us could stand before it?  If we could touch the rough splintered wood, or hold in our hands the bloody nails pulled from His hands and feet who among us would not fall down in a sea of sorrow and pouring tears?  If our ears could hear Him saying, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,"  how could we not be overcome with such repentance that we would forever be rooted to that spot?  If the dried blood on the cross suddenly became fresh and wet to touch, what one of us would not go screaming into the rest of our life?   

If such a moment were ours, how could we go back to the normal living we do?    It is only because we have figured out ways to keep the cross in the story of the gospel, or shrouded in the past, or out of sight and out of mind that we are able to live as if it never happened.  We have learned how to see it through the eyes of a disinterested spectator, or a entertainment seeking spectator which allows us to go home without really seeing.  

Some months ago I went to the theater and saw Macbeth, my first Shakespeare play.  In one very intense moment an actor stood on the front edge of center stage mesmerizing us all with his words.  Suddenly, he slashed the bloody dagger he held in his hand down toward those seated in the front row only to have a woman nearly leap from her seat.   It was a moment when she was no longer a spectator.  She was so taken in by what she was experiencing that she was there and had a moment she would never forget.  May it be so for us this Holy Friday as we see the cross on which the Savior died.