The Place Called The Skull

Church for LGBT - Open Table MCC - Philippines

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. [[Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”]] And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by watching, but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Luke 23:33-43 NRSVUE

The Paradox of the Crucified King

So the reading today is surprising, isn’t it? Did you wonder if it is Holy Week? Is it Good Friday today that we have the crucifixion? Now it’s a lectionary reading. It’s the reading today of almost all Catholic and mainline protestant churches who use the lectionary. It is the reading now because it declares that the king, the sovereign, the monarch for Christians is someone who is not on a throne, on a classic golden chair, but the throne of the one that we call king is someone who is nailed to the cross.

The one that we proclaim Lord, King, Savior is someone that the early Christian movement in the first century saw as Lord and Savior. They believed that in the person of Jesus of Nazareth—someone who was born with and into and among the poor, the oppressed, and the marginalized. It’s not just that Jesus welcomed the marginalized. Jesus is part of the marginalized, discriminated, and oppressed people.

Jesus’ Background and Shame

His mother is a peasant from Nazareth. His adopted father, foster father, is a carpenter. No, in some parts of the gospel he is referred to as, “is this not the son of the carpenter?” In short, construe “isang day laborer,” a carpenter. In other parts of the gospel, there’s no mention of his father. He was referred to as “is this not the son of Mary?”

What does that mean? Like in our song earlier about shame, right? That’s a shame. It means you are an illegitimate child. You are born out of wedlock. Because there was gossip (“chismis”) that Mary was the talk of the town because Jesus was conceived even before Joseph and she were officially and liturgically married. There were rumors that perhaps Jesus was the son of another man.

So this Jesus, as he started to preach and do ministry, miracles were ascribed to him—someone who came from Nazareth. As one apostle later said, “is there anything good that comes out of Nazareth?” So meaning, not only did Jesus have many issues regarding his personhood, but he also came from a place considered bad, where nothing good comes from. He knew shame. He knew what it means to live among, with, and as an oppressed person in those times; as a son of a carpenter, as someone who was gossiped about as being born not really of Joseph. He knew all of that.

The True Son of God vs. Worldly Power

And so when he started his ministry, naturally his ministry was for his fellow vulnerable people who were also exploited, oppressed, and discriminated. After his ministry, crucifixion, and supposed resurrection, the early Christians started to reflect on who this Jesus is. The Jewish Christians of the first century started to proclaim that if there is really a God—the God of ancient Israel, Yahweh of the covenant—this God is someone who was evident in the life, the words, example, and the miracle of this Jesus who came out from a place where no good comes from.

If there is a God, this God is evident in the life of Jesus. That is why the Gospel of Mark, the first Gospel, declares in the opening line: “this is the gospel, this is the good news of Jesus Christ, son of God.” You cannot say that in those times; that will get you crucified because “good news” only comes from the “true son of God,” which is the Roman Emperor. You cannot claim the carpenter, the peasant, the one who was crucified as a rebel, is the Son of God, King of the Jews, and Messiah. That was unheard of and unbelievable to many in the first-century Roman Empire.

But in the Christian tradition, God chose to be born in human flesh. For God so loved the world that the word of God became flesh and dwelt not just among us but became and dwelt among the poor and the oppressed and knew the life and the oppression of the oppressed.

Leadership: Sacrificial vs. Self-Preserving

This king is someone who is willing to die so that many shall be safe and set free, as compared to the kings, monarchs, senators, and presidents of this world where you have to die for them. Someone else may die except the politician. Isn’t it that the leaders of the world today are willing to let us all die (“mategi bells”) in floods and preventable disasters, as long as the leaders of the country are saved? Everybody else can die, everybody else can suffer except for the leaders of our country and the world.

That’s the problem then and now. The leaders of the world play their “Game of Thrones” to the detriment of the masses. They use the people’s resources, but the ones who die and suffer are the common people. That is why the oppressed saw in Jesus a remarkable thing: someone who preached inclusion, someone who preached diversity, someone who uplifted those who were considered outsiders in society and religion. He welcomed all of them. He spoke on behalf of them. This Jesus denounced those who were considered as the sons of God in the temple and in the palace.

Despite him being crucified—a shameful, the most shameful and painful way to die at that time—there were a group of people who proclaimed he is Lord, Savior, and Son of God.

Reflection on “Wicked” and Judgment

Earlier when I woke up, a video appeared on Facebook. I forgot his name, but he is an award-winning costume designer or stylist. He was talking about Wicked. He said—I screenshot it because I couldn’t remember the exact quote—he said this in his TED talk: “Wicked is about anyone who has ever been judged without speaking a word.” And the one speaking is a Black man.

For those familiar with Wicked, who watched the movie or the play, you know the story. Spoiler alert. There was this green woman born with green skin whose birth was questioned—why was she born green? All her life, from a young child, she was hated and felt shame and excluded, not just by society but by the very family she is part of.

The story goes that the establishment, led by the Wizard of Oz, started to blame the animals. The animals were like people; they were intelligent and could speak. He started a campaign to make the animals enemies, to imprison and torture them to such an extent that they could no longer speak. Elphaba, the green lady who later realized her powers, championed the cause of the animals and championed the truth about the Wizard who does not really have powers but just deception.

The Intersection of Fiction and Faith

This film and stage play resonate so much with the LGBTQ+ community, the trans community, or anyone—even if straight—who has ever been judged, shamed, or discriminated against for things that are not their fault. It’s a story of a person who was shamed but championed the cause of the shamed. Through an elaborate scheme, she was willing to die and remain an enemy to effect change and ensure the animals, who had been structurally and systematically made enemies of the state, were included back into society. She was willing to be the “bad one” in order for change to happen.

Here is where I draw the intersection between Elphaba, the story of Wicked, and the story of the one who was willing to be nailed on the cross to be branded as a rebel, as an enemy of the state. Someone who denounced the “wizards” of his time inside the temple in Jerusalem and because of it was crucified.

Challenge to the Believers

So the question is, as fans of Wicked and as fans of the crucified one: Do we remain simply as a fans club, or are we really followers of the one who is willing to die for the greater good, especially of those who are vulnerable and discriminated? What does it mean for us—we LGBTQ+ people, great people who are “erehes” (heretics) for being allies of this community, we who are also considered wicked—what does it mean for us to be truly followers of these heroes?

What does it mean to follow a peasant Jew in first-century Roman Palestine who was declared the bringer of good news and Son of God? How can we continue the story he exemplified?

Let’s start with the 2028 election. You should vote for those willing to be nailed to the cross, not those who will nail us to the cross again.

Conclusion: Transgender Day of Remembrance

In closing this preaching, I also saw an Instagram post by someone who watched Wicked. It was a profound reflection that people are not necessarily totally bad or totally good. It’s a mixture of both. Perhaps the focus was on Elphaba and Glinda. That was also in the TED talk of the costume designer: Who decides who is bad, who is wicked, and who is good? Simply by the color and style of dress?

It is true, we are a mixture of good and bad. None of us are perfect. But a pushback I have on that reflection is: while that is true, that is not a justification to be wicked. In Wicked, while Elphaba and Glinda have this dance of goodness and wickedness and PR, we forget there are two who are truly wicked: the marketer and the one marketed, Madame Morrible and the Wizard. They were the antagonists.

While we affirm most people are a mixture of good and bad, of woundedness and shame, we must not fail to notice those who are truly responsible for the evils of this world. Those are the ones we need to challenge, just as Elphaba challenged the Wizard and Madame Morrible.

So today, Transgender Day of Remembrance, let us remember our transgender sisters, brothers, and siblings who have it more difficult than most, who experience mental health issues, violence, and discrimination. We lend our voice and our prayers to them who are most vulnerable within the LGBTQ+ community.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the one who was called wicked during his time, a rebel, and in the name of the fictional characters Elphaba and Glinda. Amen.

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