Absorbing Violence


Lonely. Suffering is always so lonely. I say nothing, carry my cross alone, walk forward, feel the pain. There is nothing extraordinary about it. Suffering is so very human. Pain is the one thing that simultaneously alienates in its loneliness and unites in its commonness. There are two more crucified beside me today; there will be hundreds more this year. Humans suffer, and in their suffering they crucify each other. Pain is the common condition.
Why do they crucify me? Because I bring a vision that is disruptive to power. Because my hope for the world is for it to be a place of justice and peace. Because in order to exalt the lowly, the powerful must relinquish their grip. But the strong are on the defensive; they protect themselves with their hate. They kill so they wont be killed, and they use violence to stop violence. They are afraid.
As I walk I feel the sting of betrayal. I suffer in body but my soul is crushed. It is the betrayal that hurts the most, as I realize my best friends barely know me and my enemies taunt me with shame. King of the Jews? King? Do they not understand at all? My kingdom threatens the existing powers not because it is stronger but because it transforms – because king is replaced with father. Mother. Sister. Brother. We serve and love and become family. Do they not understand at all?
The cycle of pain is the human condition. I witness to a better way. In these moments I take the suffering I am given and I refuse to give it back. I drink my cup and carry my cross and I look them all square in the face. I do not run from this pain. I do not escape it at all. Like Adam, I experience the death of the world; Adam ate of the tree, I die on it, witnessing to the way of true life, which is found by going deeper into humility. As I glance out over the crowd my eyes are glazed with the weight of my sorrow, the shame of “defeat” thrown in my face. This is the worst of body and soul violence, and I absorb it, and I take it all in, and I know my work is done.

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