If a picture is worth a
thousand words then the sculpture "The Tortured Christ" by Brazilian
artist Guido Rocha says it all. Its obscenity evokes revulsion in those,
including myself, who prefer a crucifix to be polite. But the incarnation
cannot be fully grasped except when it is depicted as offensive. Granted, we
generally associate incarnation with the babe of Bethlehem, angels singing,
shepherds adoring, wise ones worshipping. But the incarnation, Jesus emptying
himself of the power of God, is only fully and finally revealed in the offense
of the cross for he empties himself to be crucified not cuddled. In the end
Jesus, the life of love, dies naked and alone his humanity beaten out of him
screaming like a wounded animal with no one to offer comfort and no one to come
to his rescue. When Luke recounts the story Jesus remembers a thief who is
dying next to him even as Jesus forgives the ones who crucify them both. That
is the final offense of the crucifixion. Someone should pay. Someone should be
held accountable. Someone did. Someone was. Jesus. Remember me.
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