Lenten Meditation #3

Written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin.
(John 19:20)

Still musing over Irvin Yalom’s When Nietzsche Wept. It’s the kind of novel that lingers. Nietzsche makes much of the ancient Greek poets and philosophers. As opposed to our Christian God of the Cross; Nietzsche opts for Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and dance, emotions and instincts, desire and passion. Nietzsche is not interested in our “Man of Sorrows” (Isa 53:3). He desires Dionysus, a more heroic god.

It caused me to wonder about those Greeks who came to Philip, one of Jesus’ disciples with a good Greek name; and asked him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus” (Jn 12:20-22). Chances are they saw Jesus a few days later hanging on a Roman Cross with a sign written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin: “JESUS OF NAZARETH THE KING OF THE JEWS” (Jn 19:20). Hebrew, the language of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—of the Law and the Prophets and the Psalms. Greek, the language of culture and of the New Testament; and, Latin, the language of Roman rule and power. The sign caused a fuss. It was Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor’s idea. Despite the fuss, Pilate sticks with his Hebrew, Greek and Roman sign. A good decision, since there were Greeks and Romans present at the Cross. What happened on Golgotha was for all people: “every nation, tribe, people and language” (Rv 7:9).

Later on, after Easter and Pentecost, the Apostle Paul will come to certain Greeks gathered on their hill of philosophical discourse located in Athens, the center of such culture and thought. From Golgotha in Jerusalem, to Mar’s Hill in Athens—who would of thought. Quoting from their own poets and philosophers, the Apostle urges them to come to Jesus: “Giving assurance to all by raising him from the dead” (Acts 17:31). Something of a fuss followed the message. But the Gospel had its way, and “some became believers including Dionysus…” (vs 34). Dionysus takes his name from Nietzsche’s god. But on this day, Dionysus turns from Nietzsche’s god to the God of Calvary. Tradition has it that Dionysus became pastor of the Athenian church.

Caused me to think, had I Yalom’s intellect and literary gifts; I might write a novel called “When Dionysus Wept.” Not the god of wine and dance, but that Athenian who bore his name. It would be a story about how a Greek philosopher by the name of Dionysus came to see Jesus that day on Mar’s Hill—of all places.