All three of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) tell us that at Jesus’ death, “darkness came over the whole earth.” Only Matthew writes that in addition to the darkness, there was an earthquake which split rocks and shook the earth. I remember years ago reading about biblical literalists trying to prove that on that tragic day, there was a solar eclipse and a tremendous earthquake.
Brian McLaren draws a helpful distinction between reading the Bible as being “literal” and being “literary.” He points out that many times the Bible as literature uses metaphors which are meant to be taken seriously but not literally. Of course, there are events which are both literal and metaphorical. For example, the resurrection of Jesus is both literally and metaphorically true. In other words, Jesus’ resurrection actually occurred, but it also has profound implications beyond the event itself. But there are other events mentioned in the Bible that are best understood as metaphors which communicate profound truths. I would suggest (along with virtually every biblical scholar) that the darkness and earthquake in Matthew’s Gospel are such metaphors. So, what did Matthew mean when he said that at Jesus’ death, darkness covered the earth and the earth shook?
Julian of Norwich (1342-1416) was a Christian mystic whose writings reveal a spiritual genius. She wrote the following regarding the cosmic response to Jesus’ death found in Matthew’s Gospel:
I saw a great oneing between Christ and us because when he was in pain we were in pain. All creatures of God’s creation that can suffer pain suffered with him. The sky and the earth failed at the time of Christ’s dying because he too was part of nature.
Matthew Fox, in his book entitled Christian Mystics: 365 Readings and Meditations, makes the following comments on Julian’s insight:
Jesus’ cruel death on a cross was a cosmic event—it incorporated all the suffering of the creatures of nature. When you have a broken heart, a wrenching depth of pain, have you felt a “great oneing” with Christ?
Unfortunately, Western Christianity has failed to see the connection between the sufferings of Christ and the sufferings of creation. Because of our fixation on “saving souls” and “going to heaven when we die,” we have lost any appreciation for the cosmic truth that we, too, are a part of nature. Julian saw the universal nature of Jesus’ death (and resurrection) because she understood that she was part of this natural world. John Donne was correct when he wrote that no person is an island and when the bell tolls for the dead, we should not ask “for whom the bell tolls, because it tolls for thee.” Such connectedness takes on poignant meaning during this current pandemic. But even Donne, a man, could not see what Julian, a woman, saw: that such a bell also tolls for every part of nature. Increasingly, for those with eyes to see and hearts to feel, we are realizing how tragic and truncated our theologies and sense of connectedness are as we face the ecological crises and challenges of our day.
When people are molded and guided by greed and self-aggrandizement, it’s difficult, if not impossible, to appreciate the awesome and vulnerable web of which we are all a part.
Currently, we are all immobilized and traumatized by the pandemic threatening the world. Intentional blindness, stubborn resistance, and fiendish scapegoating from the White House all have their roots in an arrogant stance against science, truth, and ecological sensitivity by the President of the most powerful (and at times, most foolish) country in the world. When people are molded and guided by greed and self-aggrandizement, it’s difficult, if not impossible, to appreciate the awesome and vulnerable web of which we are all a part.
Last week, a scientist said that what we are seeing with the Coronavirus with its rapid and invincible spread is what we will experience when the full consequences of the climate crisis fall upon us if we do not make radical changes in the ways we live on this planet. If we are as slow and stubborn in acknowledging and dealing with the climate crisis as our leaders (at least in Washington, D. C.) have been in acknowledging and dealing with the Coronavirus, the outcome will make the current pandemic pale in significance. When will we learn that we are all connected! My cough or sneeze affects your health. My pollution affects the earth.
Julian of Norwich lived during the Black Death, a devastating pandemic of the bubonic plague that struck Asia and Europe in the 14th Century CE. Almost one-third of Europe’s population died from this plague (more than 20 million people). Julian was no religious Pollyanna oblivious to the suffering and evil of this world. However, she found great comfort and solace in her knowledge and experience of how all people and all of nature are connected in the heart of God. She also understood that just as Jesus’ death incorporated the sufferings of this earth (and the earth’s sufferings incorporated the sufferings of Christ), so Jesus’ resurrection incorporated all of creation, including each and every human being.
On this Good Friday I meditate on these truths:
- All of our suffering, fear, and agony are felt by God who suffers with us.
- We are connected in ways we cannot even begin to imagine. However, our survival (along with the earth’s survival as we know it) depends on our recovering what has been forgotten by our greedy and arrogant civilization.
- Even though we may have forgotten how we are connected, God will never forget that we are one seamless web forever held precious in God’s heart. Jesus’ death on the cross demonstrates God’s solidarity with us and the rest of creation.
- After the cross comes resurrection, but not because we deserve it and not because we can accomplish such grace. Resurrection comes for only one reason: “For God so loves this cosmos.” However, this hope can never fully or even adequately inspire and comfort us until we live as though we are one with each other and this magnificent creation.
- This Coronavirus will pass. The question will then be, “Have we learned anything from our suffering and the deaths of those we love?” And will what we have learned open our eyes to the reality and implications of our cosmic connectedness? To be honest, I’m not optimistic. But because God hopes through us, I am hopeful. And according to the Apostle Paul, hope is one of the ultimate and abiding realities along with trust and love. Can we dare allow God to hope through us for a better world? We shall see.
