Why Did God Let it Happen?

As I have prayed with this reading, I realized what a paradox this feast is in our Church. It is the same paradox that it is in our lives. While being governed by a King is far from our lived experience and reality, being a King is part of our Christian DNA. 

A King is an absolute ruler accepted because the people believe that God gave him the right to rule. The right to Kingship is hereditary. God gave His Son the right to rule as King of the Universe. As we end the Church year, it seems an appropriate feast. The proclamation for all time that Jesus is the one and only true King until time ceases to exist.

And yet, the Gospel reading paints such a different picture. In our Gospel Jesus is arrested, stripped naked, bound, standing before Pilot with His life on the line. He is crowned with thorns and is playing what appears to be a word game about the meaning of kingdoms with Pilot.

Jesus knows what God has called Him to, yet in the fullness of His humanity, He must have struggled. He was abandoned, betrayed, and persecuted. After His glorious entry into Jerusalem, just days before, people are screaming for His death. I imagine He was wounded more by the abandonment of the people than by His broken body. As Jesus stood before Pilot, He looked directly into an abyss that was His final word of love and trust in His Father. I imagine that He questioned God’s plan for Him. Perhaps even questioned his own fidelity to God, who allowed Him to be persecuted and killed. But, God’s love living in Jesus won over any human doubt or fear.

It seems very little has changed over these 2000 years. I cannot even count the number of times in my own life that I have said or heard others say, “How could God have allowed that to happen?” We all know people who, in anger, have turned from God and refused to believe because God permitted something devastating to happen in their life. We all know people who walk away from God and faith because if God really is all-powerful and loving, he would not have allowed a tragedy. We see this most profoundly: when a child is stricken with a deadly disease, there is a senseless loss of life, a drunk driver crosses a median, and a family is wiped out. When random acts of violence take the innocent.  It is understandable to want to scream out at God in frustration, agony, and anger. It is understandable to want to turn from God and run as fast as possible in the other direction. It can seem when we need God the most, He is most absent. It may have seemed that way for Jesus as He stood alone before Pilot.

The depth of our pain and emotion makes us want to strike out and turn away. We blame God. We think if we can find someone to blame, it will lessen the pain. God is a good target—after all He is all-powerful. 

Jesus, standing before Pilot, is our guide in our times of most crucial questions and doubt. He lives His love for God and His belief that God would not abandon Him. 

The Kingship given to Jesus has been carved into the heart of eternity. Jesus knew what we need to remember. Evil, disease, violence, abandonment, betrayal, hatred, and every other kind of awfulness that touches our lives does not come from God. Evil exists. Disease exists. Hatred and violence exist. They are not from God. However, God does give us the strength to face the pain in our life. Jesus stood before Pilot, and He believed His Father stood with Him. There was no blame or recrimination. God gave Jesus the divine right of Kingship. In that, Jesus found the strength to endure. The power to love to the very end.

When we are baptized, we are baptized priest, prophet, and King. God passes to us the Divine Right to be Kings (and Queens). He passes on to us our right to be the ruler of our own destiny. God has given us the strength to look evil in the eye and believe. God showers us with the wisdom to know He will not abandon us in our pain. 

We, who are God’s own, walk the road of life, like Jesus, with our Kingship intact and our crown, be it sometimes of thorns, on straight.

In God’s Unending Love,

Gwen