Theoogical Journal - March 16

Theological Journal – March 16 (Lent 2020)

Moltmann Monday – The Crucified God

“The one will triumph who first died for the victims then also for the executioners, and in so doing revealed a new righteousness which breaks through vicious circles of hate and vengeance and which from the lost victims and executioners creates a new mankind with a new humanity. Only where righteousness becomes creative and creates right both for the lawless and for those outside the law, only where creative love changes when is hateful and deserving of hate, only where the new man is born who is oppressed nor oppresses others, can one speak of the true revolution of righteousness and of the righteousness of God.”
― Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God: The Cross of Christ as the Foundation and Criticism of Christian Theology, 178.

Jesus’ cross scandalizes us, always scandalizes us, even his most faithful followers with its morality-ignoring, boundary-transgressing, propriety-busting, politically-incorrect, conscience-scandalizing, everyone-reconciling overreach. Jesus told his followers their righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees (Mt.5:20). It must exceed even our most progressive and liberal “excessive” righteousness. Whoever it is we cannot quite imagine receiving Jesus’ gracious welcome and embrace, that is where our righteousness must come to exceed even our righteousness.

No one has captured this scandalous apocalyptic character of the cross better than the Southern Catholic writer Flannery O’Connor. Apocalyptic means “revelation” and none of O’Connor’s stories better reveals this “theology of the cross” better than her short story titled “Revelation.” This story offends and angers us by its revealing both the breadth of God’s tasteless bringing together of all sorts of different kinds of the people as well as the depth of its exposure of each of our unacceptableness but from God’s grace. Dorothy Day described this by saying: We only love God as much as the person we love the least. O’Connor does it by dramatically portraying the truth that we are all like Mrs. Turpin in her story, “old wart hogs” from hell. No wonder Moltmann called the theology of the cross a “not much loved tradition” in the church!

Richard Beck summarizes the story for us:

“Mrs. Turpin is a smug, prideful woman who looks down her nose at the "trash" of the world. As Mrs. Turpin is sitting in a doctor's office, being thankful for the fact that she's a good, decent, honest person, not at all like the lowlifes sitting in chairs around her, she is eyed with increasing hostility by a teenage girl named Mary Grace. Mrs. Turpin feels uncomfortable under the gaze of Mary Grace, but she becomes convinced that the girl has a message for her, a revelation from God.

“Mrs. Turpin gets her message when Mary Grace throws and hits her in the head with a book. It's a totally unprovoked act of violence, but Mrs. Turpin is convinced it's because Mary Grace has seen something in her soul that only God could see. As the nurse and doctor hold and try to sedate the struggling girl, Mrs. Turpin leans in to hear the word of God Mary Grace has for her, the revelation. Mary Grace looks straight at Mrs. Turpin and spits, "Go back to hell where you came from, you old wart hog" . . .
“Stunned, Mrs. Turpin returns to her farm with her husband. Later on, Mrs. Turpin is hosing down the pigs while the sun begins to set. She takes up an argument with God. Why did God want her to see herself as an old wart hog? Wasn't she, after all, one of the decent, hardworking folks? If so, then why did God send that message to her? She didn't deserve it! Mrs. Turpin rants and screams at God.

“But as the sun sets, Mrs. Turpin looks up and has a mystical vision. She sees a great highway leading up to heaven. And at the front of the line, the souls getting into heaven first, are all the trashy people. And far to the back, the people at the end of the line, getting in last, are Mrs. Turpin's people--the good, hardworking, decent folk, stunned and shocked to find themselves bringing up the rear.” (http://experimentaltheology.blogspot.com/2019/01/more-on-apocalyptic-mysticism.html)

Jesus’ cross and our journey with him to it during Lent is to be such an apocalyptic journey into the truth about who we are and how little we truly want or understand what happened there. But, paradoxically, that’s the good news of Lent. When we finally give up trying to be who we’re not and understand what is beyond us and simply collapse in faithful submission to it we are immersed in the reality of this revelation and it changes us. Then, and only then, can we learn to practice the turning enemies and other “deplorables” into friends and siblings that presage the new creation that he is bringing into being through the crucified, risen, and ruling Jesus!