His name was Trayvon, Viernes Santo/ Good Friday 2012
His name was Trayvon. You have probably heard his story. Walking in a hooded sweatshirt to his father’s fiancé’s house, carrying skittles and an iced tea for his little brother. Posiblemente han escuchado de Trayvon, quien estaba caminando con una botella de te helado y una bolsa de Skittles, llevando un suéter “hoodie” cuando alguien en la área en que estaba en Florida decidió que él era una amenaza. Someone decided that Trayvon was a threat, and there was a scuffle of some sort, and Trayvon was shot. Alguien le mató porque pareció un peligro.
Now, as I saw on Facebook the other day, that maybe Trayvon has a new hoodie, the white robe of the martyr. Posiblemente, como vi en Facebook el otro día, Trayvon tiene un Nuevo hoodie, el blanco chaleco de los mártires.
Somebody pointed out that monks wear something that looks like a hoodie, and nobody thinks them dangerous. ¿Porque es que un hoodie en un monje es algo pio y un hoodie en un joven negro es algo peligroso? I don’t know about you all, but for me, the only time I need to pull my hoodie’s Hood up is when I need to protect myself—from the elements, or when I don’t feel entirely safe. Posiblemente Trayvon estaba protegiéndose a si mismo, llevando su hoodie.
Now I’m not saying Trayvon was just like Jesus, exactly. No one is. Maybe he wasn’t an angel. Posiblemente Trayvon no fuera un angel. But when I read those words for today: “He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity…” Cuando leí estas palabras de Isaías hoy… “Como a alguien que no merece ser visto, lo despreciamos, no lo tuvimos en cuenta.” When I heard these words, I thought of Trayvon as well as Jesus. Pensaba en Trayvon y Jesús porque me pregunte, ¿cuantas personas hay alrededor de mí que voy a juzgar en vez de verles como hermanos y hermanas en Cristo? How many people are there in my life that I am too willing to judge rather than see them as brothers and sisters in Christ?
Tuesday last week, Alene and I were hiking in Catalina. And we were just finished with a seven mile hike, and I was bone-tired and thirsty, and burned. El martes la semana pasada, Alene y yo estábamos yendo hiking en Catalina, y después del hike, estábamos descansando en su centro de naturaleza allá. And while I was chilling at the Nature Center, a young black man, very jovial, hollered at me “Hey!” For a minute I was a bit nervous because he was a so energetic. “Yeah?” I answered a bit cautiously. And he said, “Where are the botanical gardens?” Phew! Now that was not what I expected. I didn’t really expect anything bad, but that was very different than what I expected.
Este hombre joven y negro me gritó “Hey” y yo dije “Si…” con un poco de trepidación por la energía en sus palabras, y el me preguntó “¿Donde esta el jardín botánico?” He just wanted to see some flowers! So you really can’t guess where another person is at. Even Jesus was despised in this moment. Aun Jesús estaba rechazado en este momento.
So Good Friday brings me to a place of humility. Being more open to my fellow human being. Ser un poco mas humilde es mi objetivo hoy. Mas abierto a mi hermano o Hermana en Cristo. Knowing that I, just like the disciples, might have turned away too. Posiblemente yo también hubiera huido de Jesús en su momento de necesidad.
I am only human after all, y debo ser humilde. Good Friday reminds us that we are to be humble because we can fall so easily. El Viernes Santo nos recuerda a ser humildes porque podemos caer tan fácilmente. But on Good Friday we are reminded that Jesus did bear our sins. Si llevo nuestro pecado Jesús. “Y sin embargo él estaba cargado con nuestros sufrimientos….” “Upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.” He cried out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me (Psalm 22:1)?” Grito… “Dios mío, Dios mío, ¿Por qué me has desamparado (Salmo 22:1)?” But we know that through him we are never forsaken again. Nunca más estamos desamparados en él.
In fact, the Hebrews passage from today tells us, that no matter how prone to falling we are, “our hearts [are] sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water (Hebrews 10:22b).” Estan “limpios nuestros corazones de mala conciencia y lavados nuestros cuerpos con agua pura (Hebreos 10:22b).” We are clean again, through the love and grace of God. Estamos limpios, por el amor y la Gracia de Dios.
Probably one of our earliest travel writers, Egeria, talked about seeing Good Friday observed while traveling to the Holy Land in the 4th Century. Egeria, una mujer de Espana del siglo cuatro, nos habla tras la historia sobre como observaron Viernes Santo visitando la tierra santa en aquella época.
They read this same passage from Isaiah at the time, and she says folks cried, tears falling down, to hear how Jesus suffered and how the scriptures were fulfilled. Ella describe como se leí este mismo pasaje en Isaías y que todos lloraban para escuchar que fue completada las escrituras en Cristo y como es que sufrió por nosotros. So if there is a tradition for Good Friday it might be tears, as well as hearing these passages. Llorar es una tradición en Viernes Santo. So if you wish to cry for Jesus a bit today, or for Trayvon, or any other of the crucified in our midst, know that it is holy. Perhaps we even weep for the neighbors that don’t know how to be good neighbors. Es algo santo llorar hoy para Jesús, Trayvon o cualquier otro desamparado. Porque es como estamos lavados de nuevo. It is how we are washed clean again. Amen.
Now, as I saw on Facebook the other day, that maybe Trayvon has a new hoodie, the white robe of the martyr. Posiblemente, como vi en Facebook el otro día, Trayvon tiene un Nuevo hoodie, el blanco chaleco de los mártires.
Somebody pointed out that monks wear something that looks like a hoodie, and nobody thinks them dangerous. ¿Porque es que un hoodie en un monje es algo pio y un hoodie en un joven negro es algo peligroso? I don’t know about you all, but for me, the only time I need to pull my hoodie’s Hood up is when I need to protect myself—from the elements, or when I don’t feel entirely safe. Posiblemente Trayvon estaba protegiéndose a si mismo, llevando su hoodie.
Now I’m not saying Trayvon was just like Jesus, exactly. No one is. Maybe he wasn’t an angel. Posiblemente Trayvon no fuera un angel. But when I read those words for today: “He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity…” Cuando leí estas palabras de Isaías hoy… “Como a alguien que no merece ser visto, lo despreciamos, no lo tuvimos en cuenta.” When I heard these words, I thought of Trayvon as well as Jesus. Pensaba en Trayvon y Jesús porque me pregunte, ¿cuantas personas hay alrededor de mí que voy a juzgar en vez de verles como hermanos y hermanas en Cristo? How many people are there in my life that I am too willing to judge rather than see them as brothers and sisters in Christ?
Tuesday last week, Alene and I were hiking in Catalina. And we were just finished with a seven mile hike, and I was bone-tired and thirsty, and burned. El martes la semana pasada, Alene y yo estábamos yendo hiking en Catalina, y después del hike, estábamos descansando en su centro de naturaleza allá. And while I was chilling at the Nature Center, a young black man, very jovial, hollered at me “Hey!” For a minute I was a bit nervous because he was a so energetic. “Yeah?” I answered a bit cautiously. And he said, “Where are the botanical gardens?” Phew! Now that was not what I expected. I didn’t really expect anything bad, but that was very different than what I expected.
Este hombre joven y negro me gritó “Hey” y yo dije “Si…” con un poco de trepidación por la energía en sus palabras, y el me preguntó “¿Donde esta el jardín botánico?” He just wanted to see some flowers! So you really can’t guess where another person is at. Even Jesus was despised in this moment. Aun Jesús estaba rechazado en este momento.
So Good Friday brings me to a place of humility. Being more open to my fellow human being. Ser un poco mas humilde es mi objetivo hoy. Mas abierto a mi hermano o Hermana en Cristo. Knowing that I, just like the disciples, might have turned away too. Posiblemente yo también hubiera huido de Jesús en su momento de necesidad.
I am only human after all, y debo ser humilde. Good Friday reminds us that we are to be humble because we can fall so easily. El Viernes Santo nos recuerda a ser humildes porque podemos caer tan fácilmente. But on Good Friday we are reminded that Jesus did bear our sins. Si llevo nuestro pecado Jesús. “Y sin embargo él estaba cargado con nuestros sufrimientos….” “Upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.” He cried out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me (Psalm 22:1)?” Grito… “Dios mío, Dios mío, ¿Por qué me has desamparado (Salmo 22:1)?” But we know that through him we are never forsaken again. Nunca más estamos desamparados en él.
In fact, the Hebrews passage from today tells us, that no matter how prone to falling we are, “our hearts [are] sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water (Hebrews 10:22b).” Estan “limpios nuestros corazones de mala conciencia y lavados nuestros cuerpos con agua pura (Hebreos 10:22b).” We are clean again, through the love and grace of God. Estamos limpios, por el amor y la Gracia de Dios.
Probably one of our earliest travel writers, Egeria, talked about seeing Good Friday observed while traveling to the Holy Land in the 4th Century. Egeria, una mujer de Espana del siglo cuatro, nos habla tras la historia sobre como observaron Viernes Santo visitando la tierra santa en aquella época.
They read this same passage from Isaiah at the time, and she says folks cried, tears falling down, to hear how Jesus suffered and how the scriptures were fulfilled. Ella describe como se leí este mismo pasaje en Isaías y que todos lloraban para escuchar que fue completada las escrituras en Cristo y como es que sufrió por nosotros. So if there is a tradition for Good Friday it might be tears, as well as hearing these passages. Llorar es una tradición en Viernes Santo. So if you wish to cry for Jesus a bit today, or for Trayvon, or any other of the crucified in our midst, know that it is holy. Perhaps we even weep for the neighbors that don’t know how to be good neighbors. Es algo santo llorar hoy para Jesús, Trayvon o cualquier otro desamparado. Porque es como estamos lavados de nuevo. It is how we are washed clean again. Amen.
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