Reflections on a Richard Rohr Meditation (and Perhaps Going a Bit Off-Topic)

http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Daily-Meditation--Jesus-Lived-in-Darkness-and-Faith--Just-As-We-Do----Foundation----April-7--2013.html?soid=1103098668616&aid=ez0dW_2X1w4

My friend posted the above link to Facebook recently and I've read it several times since. I knew I wanted to share it here, but wasn't sure for some time what to say about it. The portion that struck me with the most impact was the following:

“We like to imagine that Jesus did not flinch, doubt or ever question God’s love. The much greater message is that in his humanity he did flinch, have doubts, and ask questions—and still remained faithful.” 

I suppose it's more accurate to say that my thoughts below flowed from this link – or were inspired by it – rather than to say that they directly addressed it.  To wit:

I wonder if it's distinctly American to imagine Jesus as the baddest motherfucker in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; a mashup of George Washington, G.I. Joe and Elvis – kicking ass, taking names and writing them on one side or the other of the Book of Heaven. I don't doubt that that's how many Americans see him and find him worthy of worship, but I don't know how distinctly that's unique to our country. Not being a world traveler, I can hardly know.

But in light of America's aggressive, acquisitive character, it seems distinctly un-American to understand that his great power is not in battling evil on its own jingoistic terms. Rather, it's in understanding that evil can't possibly contend with his true power where it lies: in vulnerability and the willingness to be exposed to it. In the utter surrender to the cross that -- because of that surrender -- sprouts roots and returns to its proper being as the tree from which it was hewn.

It seems that it's the mad proposition of Christian faith to surrender ourselves in the same way that Jesus did and to believe that therein lies our release from mean mortal coils. To, indeed, carry our cross -- and all the way to the time and place where we, ourselves, will be nailed upon it. To believe that this really is where we'll be subsumed and freed by the power of God. To accept the terror that claims that love is stronger then hatred; that Good really is more powerful than Evil. It's not enough to merely turn the other cheek. We have to accept that it'll be struck and even still, respond only with love.

I have no pretensions that I'm good enough, or strong enough, to have that in me, but so help me God, I hope to have the courage to try.