Recently, one of my friends asked me to give a short homily about the first words of Jesus on the Cross, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23: 34 NRSV). I was a little hesitant, but I agreed. I know I haven’t shared much here these days, but I think I may have underestimated how much working full-time and going to seminary full-time would take from me. Either way, I thought I’d share with y’all this lil’ homily I wrote from a very vulnerable place.
I wrote and delivered this homily for the Good Friday Service at Metro Hope Church in March 2024.
Luke 23: 32-34
32 Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. 33 When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. 34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”[c] And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.
Word of the Lord
“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” These are the first words Jesus muttered from the Cross to Father, Mother God. While his life is slipping through every breath he takes, Jesus realizes he needs help from Someone else.
To me these words show me the humanity of Jesus even more, because he didn’t say, “I forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing,” instead, Jesus asked someone else to do the forgiving.
Throughout his ministry, we see the stories of Jesus forgiving people of their sins, usually connected to their healing. I wonder if at this moment, Jesus knew there was no healing that could be obtained. How does one begin to heal from state violence on marginalized bodies? How does one heal from death itself?
His plea to Father, Mother God in this moment is a cry for healing and a cry for community. No one else could understand what he was asking for,
How many times have we needed others to forgive when we cannot? Forgiveness is no easy task sometimes, in our interpersonal relationships, in our relationship with ourselves, and in our relationship with the imperialistic state of the United States.
Jesus was awfully gracious in this moment because even in his plea, he is making the assumption that they don’t know what they are doing, “forgive them for they not know what they do.” So what do we do when we know that the systems of oppression know what they’re doing?
I’ll be honest and say I cannot pray Jesus’s prayer today.
I believe the systems of oppression know exactly what they’re doing to our bodies and our communities.
Dr. James Cone writes, “The gospel of Jesus is not a rational concept to be explained in a theory of salvation, but a story about God’s presence in Jesus’ solidarity with the oppressed, which led to his death on the cross. What is redemptive is the faith that God snatches victory out of defeat, life out of death, and hope out of despair.”
What if Jesus’s plea is a way of pushing back against despair, and against hopelessness? Jesus already knew this day was coming, yet he asked for the forgiveness of others, and still, we see his solidarity with the folks experiencing oppression.
Today we see how the settler-colonial powers of this world continue to place Jesus on the cross. The mother holding her dying baby in Palestine, the thousand-year-old olive trees burning to the ground, the men who have no more tears to cry. This is Jesus on the cross.
Jesus is at the Cross when our Black bodies are brutalized by the police.
Jesus is at the Cross when the LGBTQIA community is not loved and celebrated. Jesus is at the Cross when we turn our back on our siblings at the U.S Southern border, when we turn away the refugee. Jesus is at the cross when the Indigenous Peoples of this land are dying at disproportionate rates. Jesus is at the cross when patriarchy and misogyny are still ever present in our everyday lives. Where else is Jesus on the cross today?1
I believe that in this moment between life and death, Jesus is reminding us to hold one another, to ask for help, that in the moments when there is only despair, hope can still be present. Maybe today we can’t forgive, but I hope one day we will, remembering that as theologian A’Dorian Murray-Thomas says, “Forgiveness is not forsaking accountability.”
May we too have the courage to ask for the forgiveness of others as we ask for ourselves. And may we have the courage to ask Father, Mother God to forgive when we cannot.
Amen.
This section was inspired by a previous article I wrote a few years ago for we are the mainstream called, “What’s so good about Good Friday?”