Good Friday: Behold the Image of the Invisible God

On Tuesday evening, a group of about 20 or so of us gathered together for the Stations of the Cross. The Stations are a different way to approach the Passion story that we just heard. You could say it is a more embodied approach. During this meditative service, we walked from station to station, carrying a cross as we went. And at each of the 14 stations, we looked at the image with our eyes while we listened to the story with our ears.

The telling of this story wasn’t exactly straightforward. Along with hearing from the Passion story itself, we also heard from other parts of scripture. For instance, when we got to the station about Simon of Cyrene helping Jesus carry his cross, we heard the gospel section about Simon, but we also heard from Jesus earlier in his ministry telling the disciples that they would have to pick up their crosses and follow him. At the station about Jesus meeting his mother, we heard the gospel story about Mary at the cross, but we also heard the story of when Jesus was 12 and he gave his parents a fright by going to the temple instead of coming home with them.

At station six we heard a section from Colossians, and this one line in the reading that I have read or heard hundreds of times, stood out to me in this inexplicable way, as if I was hearing it for the first time. The line is this: “Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God.” I have been ruminating on this line all week. Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God. Nobody has ever seen God. God is invisible. An annoying fact that opens up so much room for doubt and uncertainty. This invisibility also opens up room for charlatans to try and take advantage of people by offering their own self-serving image of God.

But this line from Colossians reminds us that while God might be invisible, God is not concealed. Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God. If we want to see God, we are invited to gaze upon Jesus. We can see God when we look at Jesus as a baby lying in the manger – the all-powerful creator of everything, vulnerable and dependent on his mother. We can see God when we look at Jesus healing the sick, feeding the hungry, and weeping with his friends over the death of their brother. We can even hear God when we listen to Jesus’ teaching about the primacy of love in all things: Love the Lord your God with all of your heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself, on these two hang all the law and the prophets. I give you a new commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God.

Today, we glance at Jesus hanging on the cross, and we see the image of the invisible God. This is not quite the image of God as the philosophers of old imagined: God omnipotent, immutable, omniscient. No, this is a wrongly convicted man beaten down by the powers and principalities of this world. This is a picture of frailty and anguish. Yes, this is a sovereign God who is ruler over all – the word King is even placed on the cross with him – but God has traded all that power for true solidarity with humanity. There is a certain intimacy with humanity in this image of God entering into our darkest and most horrific moments. The image we are presented with in the Good Friday story is of a God who knows that true strength is found in weakness; true might in vulnerability; true power in love.

Swindlers and grifters try to tell us that God is violent, demanding, and forceful. They peddle this God for personal or political gain. And you will see this image of God everywhere in popular culture and media. You will hear it from many pulpits. But this is not God. At least this is not the God that we see when look upon Jesus Christ who is the image of the invisible God. Especially when we look upon Jesus hanging from the cross. We do not have a muscular God; rather, we have a tender one who stretches out his arms of love on the hard wood of the cross. The cross is hard. The world is hard. Not our God.

Today, on this Friday that we oddly call Good, turn your gaze to the cross, and behold the one that was nailed to it. This one who is the image of the invisible God. This is a God who is not distant, but is intimately close to us in all of our imperfections, frailties, and limitations. This is a God of affection, compassion, and kindliness. This is a God who loves you more than you can ask for or begin to imagine. Amen.