A Holy Week Letter from Bishop Hassanally

To the People of God in the Southeastern Minnesota Synod,

A passage from the novel Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry:

But the worst day of all was when it hit me that Jesus' own most fervent prayer was refused: "Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless, not my will but thine be done." . . . It just knocked me in the head. This, I thought, is what is meant by "thy will be done" in the Lord's Prayer, which I had prayed time and again without thinking about it. It means that your will and God's will may not be the same. It means there's a good possibility that you won't get what you pray for. It means that in spite of your prayers you are going to suffer. . . . After Jesus’ terrible prayer at Gethsemane, an angel came to Him and gave Him strength, but did not remove the cup.

Jesus prays before his crucifixion, as recorded in the gospel of Matthew:

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee and began to be grieved and agitated. Then he said to them, “My soul is deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet not what I want but what you want.” (Matthew 26:36-39)

The season of Lent begins with the words we hear on Ash Wednesday, “from dust you came, to dust you shall return.” Because of this, we often understand Ash Wednesday as the day in the church year in which we are most confronted with our own mortality.

Yet, this Lent, I have been struck by the deep truths of life and death revealed in Good Friday. Easter Sunday comes so quickly on the heels of Good Friday that Friday can often be seen as little more than a precursor to the resurrection celebration of Sunday, as though Friday was only a means to an end and not a revelation in and of itself. 

As I linger over what exactly is revealed in Good Friday, I am struck by two profound truths. The first is that resurrection comes, and death, violence, and evil, no matter how brutal, are indeed overcome. The second truth, however, is one much more difficult to accept: evil puts up a fight. Death is not easily defeated. The resurrection comes at a great price.

This second truth is one, I fear, too easily overlooked. In denying the full brutality of Good Friday and reducing it to simply a means to an end (as I have often been tempted to do), we deny ourselves, too, the honesty that is required to acknowledge that new life is costly.

Pay attention to the words used to describe Jesus’ own grappling state before his beating and death. Matthew records that Jesus was “deeply grieved,” “agitated,” and despondent to the point of throwing himself to the ground in desperate prayer. Jesus knew life would triumph. Jesus also knew death would not so easily loosen its grip.

I am also struck by the wise words of Wendell Berry, who, through the namesake character in Jayber Crow, invites us to consider whether or not we, as followers of Jesus, have been honest with ourselves about the ongoing realities of death. The fact is that in this life, death still very much comes with a sting.

Disciples of Jesus are often tempted to negate the power of death in the name of the power of the resurrection. To be sure, the power of the resurrection is far greater than that of death. In Jesus, death is soundly defeated. 

But let us be honest about how death is defeated and what that might mean for our own lives of discipleship. Death is defeated by one who empties himself of all power, who literally pours himself out. Death is defeated. It is defeated after political forces, religious powers, and popular fear are unleashed with destructive fury. Death is defeated in the face of brutal violence.

Remember those early days of the church year when we read of the temptations of Jesus? When Satan offers him power, prestige, and material wealth, and he denies it all? Jesus denies the trap of the powers of this world, in time setting his face toward Jerusalem and knowingly walking straight toward the cross. 

The powers and forces of temptation remain unchanged. Death does not want to be defeated. Death puts up a fight. 

On the morning of Easter, we will celebrate the resurrection. We will claim and proclaim that death has indeed been defeated, Christ has overcome, and new and abundant life has been made possible for all of humanity and creation. 

We are a people of “already but not yet.” Death has already been defeated, but the sting of death lingers in our earthly experience. The kingdom of Christ has come, but it is not yet fully here. The power of the resurrection is ours; death has been overcome, and death is still putting up a last and gasping fight.

So, as the Apostle Paul wrote, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Dear friends, do not grow weary in doing good, living in and proclaiming the promises of resurrection for all. But let us also be prepared. Joining in the work of God, proclaiming the power of resurrection life, and following Jesus, will surely cost us something. Death does not want to be defeated.

When death puts up a fight, remember this: even in the depths of Good Friday, when death is sure it has won, and all evidence would point to that fact: God is at work. 

God is at work.

It may not be in the ways we imagined or even hoped for. It will not preclude us from suffering. But it will never, ever mean that death has won.

We live now in the “already but not yet,” and while we long for the fulfillment of all good things, we also know even in the deepest depths, death does not win. No matter the cost, Christ has overcome.

In the words of Jesus from the gospel of John: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

In Christ,
Bishop Regina Hassanally
Southeastern Minnesota Synod, ELCA

Read Bishop Hassanally’s Ash Wednesday letter here.