Is it only a reminder of how our ancestors killed Him?

Isn't it also a reminder of how we're still killing Him?

Is it I, Lord?

Michael Quoist asked in New Prayers (1988),

We believe sincerely that if people went to build the world and develop humanity without God, they are risking catastrophe. But what place do we give God in our lives? Is Jesus Christ the one who gives meaning to our existence? Can we say honestly that the Gospel throws light on our daily existence? And as for the time we offer to the Lord, isn't it just whatever time we have left over -- if we have any left over -- after fulfilling all our obligations? And when we are bringing up our children, what priority do we choose for their lives? Wouldn't it be a good idea if, from time to time, we took a critical look at our own lives in the presence of the Lord, so as to hear Him saying to us: "Will a person gain anything if he wins the whole word and loses his life?"

Is it I, Lord?

It's still the question for Lent.

Certainly, the crucifixion of Jesus continues today.

The Judas people still betray Him when He doesn't satisfy their selfish desires.

The Pilate people still ignore Him when Christian ethics collide with political expediency. They want the church to stay out of their business but think they have the right to stick their noses into the church's business. This separation of church and state nonsense has more often than not been a one way street.

The soldier people still wink at His Lordship and make sport of His holiness.

Crowds still distance themselves from Him when communion with Him requires transforming self and society.

In other words, the crucifixion will not stop until all of the above and everybody else exclaim, Surely He is the Son of God!"

I've come to realize, knowing we're going to live longer with Jesus than anybody else should compel us to be more conforming to than crucifying of Jesus.

I'll never forget hearing about the preaching contest at my favorite seminary some time ago. Some mischievous university students decided to test the sincerity of seminarians. So they staged a preaching contest in the chapel: offering a cash prize for the best sermon on the parable of the good Samaritan (see Luke 10:30-37).

To make the test interesting, they employed an actor who dressed in disheveled and dirty clothes, pretended to be intoxicated, and sprawled himself on the steps leading into the chapel.

Guess how many seminarians on their way into the chapel to preach on the parable of the good Samaritan stopped to help the man?

Is it I, Lord?

Do I dress up like a disciple but act like my ancestors who conspired to kill Jesus?

Is it I, Lord?

Thom Hickling, my good friend and publisher of Expression, wrote to tell me about a couple of octogenarians who had been married almost 60 years before dying together in an automobile accident. They had always had good health because of the wife's obsession with health food and exercise.