Good Friday musings

When it comes to the cross of Jesus, some people like a lot of blood—the more blood, the better. Some of our hymnody reflects this tendency. I’m not hemophobic, but this preoccupation with blood misses the point. This isn’t a matter of aesthetics, or how much blood you can stand. The point of the Hebraic sacrificial system was the life in the blood, given up for the covenant community. The blood was a symbol of that life given. Same for Jesus: it was the life in his blood, given up for you and me, that matters.

Some Christians are also big fans of some form of the penal-substitutionary theory of the atonement. In fact, many believe some form of that theory of atonement is the essence of the gospel: we sinned and therefore brought a grievance against God. We should have to die and suffer eternal judgment for our sin. God gave us his only Son, the perfect sacrifice, to atone for our sin and to remove our guilt. The problem with that theory of atonement is that it grew out of a medieval feudal setting where sin was understood as a dishonoring of some lord. The death of Jesus became a means of atoning for the grievance God felt over our sin. It was as though God needed Jesus’ death, not us.

In critiquing these missteps in thinking about the cross, I don’t want to throw out the baby with the bath water or to engage in some sort of theological reductionism that sells short the death of Jesus. I do not think that the cross of Jesus was merely an expression of God's love for us--although it was certainly that; nor was it merely a model for us of how to confront hostility and violence--although it is that too. There is more to it than that. Something mysterious and wondrous happened on that cross that set things straight between God and us and makes it possible for us to be reconciled to one other.

So I would just say this: the cross of Jesus was and is sacrificial (Jesus gave up his life freely, though not without anguish); it was and is vicarious (it was done for us); it was and is salvific (it is for our salvation); and it was efficacious (God in Christ truly did reconcile the world to God). That wondrous reality is what we must ponder this day.

There is much about the cross that remains a mystery to human understanding. This should not excuse us from wresting with the meaning and implications of Christ’s death. Still, it is mystery is to be embraced rather than explained, for in attempting to explain it we stand in danger of explaining it away. This is one reason why we need art and music and poetry—to probe the depth of this mystery, and to give expression to that which ultimately can only be a matter of praise and thanksgiving.

--Richard A. Kauffman

Dread this

If there is a cure for existential dread, I'd like to know it. 

My doctors routinely test my LDL, HDL, triglycerides, PSA and blood sugar account. If I'm in pain for some reason, they'll ask me how much pain--on a scale of 1-10--I'm experiencing at the moment. So far as I know they don't run a test to assess my EDL (existential dread level), nor do they ever ask me, "On a scale of 1-10 how much ED--no, that THAT ED--are you experiencing right now?" (In case you're wondering, my EDL today is running somewhere between 4 and 5.)

I suspect if doctors thought they had a cure for it, they'd devise a test for it. It would probably be the most important test they'd run, even more critical to my wellbeing than testing my ejection fraction (a measurement for testing how well the heart is pumping blood).

Don't we have Soren Kierkegaard to blame for coming up with the diagnosis without offering an antidote for it? Where is Dr. Kierkegaard when you need him?

I wonder if it's ever occurred to pastoral counselors to ask people: "How's your existential dread level today?" Would you like your pastor to routinely ask you, "Would you like to talk about your EDL today?" or "How would you like me to pray for your EDL?"

A cure for EDL would make someone rich, if it could be bottled or put into a pill. Can't you see someone  doing one of those half hour long, mind-numbing infomercials on TV? "A remarkable new discovery has been made. Never on the market before. A cure for existential dread. Blah, blah, blah."

If you have you any home remedies for existential dread, for the benefit of us all please add them in the comments section below. We will all be existentially grateful to you.

Richard A. Kauffman

Top ten reasons you know you’re getting old

10. You write your Congressman, telling him to keep his crummy hands off your Medicare and Social Security.

9. You wonder if your current car will hold up until your kids take the keys away or the license bureau refuses to issue you a license, whichever comes first.

8. You read the obituaries of people you don’t even know, wondering if anyone will notice yours.

7. You make suggestions to your spouse for hymns you’d like sung at your memorial service or funeral.

6. You keep hinting to your kids that their inheritance took a big hit in the Great Recession.

5. You start making contributions to the Alzheimer’s Association, volunteering to be a guinea pig for any trial of wonder drugs for dementia.

4. You walk into an ice cream shop and realize you have your bedroom slippers on.

3. You peak at the price of Depends in the drugstore.

2. Your nightcap has become a glass of Miralax.

1. You respond to those commercials for ED remedies: “Four hours? How good would that be?”

--Richard A. Kauffman

Thanks

As I walked the one mile from the train station to my office this morning, I had an incredible sense of being blessed. The city seemed alive, it was a beautiful September morning and I have a job that most of the time keeps my interest and gets me out of bed.

In Traveling Mercies Anne Lamott talks about praying two basic prayers: "Help me, help me, help me" and "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

My prayer this morning was, Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Top ten reasons why you might be on Facebook.

By Richard A. Kauffman

10. You’re an extrovert—several hundred more friends can’t hurt.

9. You’re an introvert still looking for a few good friends.

8. You’re bored and you don’t want to miss out on a happenin’ thing.

7. You’re too cheap to subcribe to the Christian Century so you read the free articles they post at Facebook.

6. You’re a wannabe writer but no one will publish you.

5. You are the shy, expressive type but, unlike Garrison Keillor and Michael Feldman, you don’t have your own radio show.

4. You’re happy and you know it and you surely want your Facebook profile to show it.

3. You’re sure Jesus wants you to use social networking media to be a Sunbeam for Him.

2. You’re both nostalgic and romantic, so you’re trying to re-connect with all your old flames.

And the #1 reason why you might be on Facebook (Drum roll, please: \_/ \_/ \_/ \_/ \_/ ): You have an attention deficit disorder and you need all the attention you can get.

--Kauffman is nothing if not unoriginal. He doesn’t usually spend his spare time trying to think up “top ten” lists. He would stay up to watch David Letterman, though, if it didn’t make him grouchy the next day.