The Cross and the Machinery
A Meditation by Rev. Cameron Trimble
“Then they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take.” — Mark 15:24
Jesus was not killed in a moment of chaos. His death happened through a system that functioned just as it was meant to.
There was a governor who knew the execution was wrong but chose to keep order instead of doing what was right.
Religious leaders protected their own positions by siding with those in power.
The crowd was influenced by fear, rumors, and pressure.
Soldiers simply followed their orders.
The process turned a person into a problem that needed to be managed.
The Gospel writers make sure we see this. They slow the story down, name each person involved, and show every step. This story is not just about one man’s suffering. It’s about how a whole society can take part in harm without ever really calling it what it is.
Good Friday is not just about what happened to Jesus. It’s also about how harm gets organized.
Today, we see systems being tested right in front of us. Some policies limit who can take part in public life. Whole groups of people are talked about as threats or burdens. Wars happen far away while markets react instantly. Decisions are made that change people’s lives, but no one seems truly responsible.
Most of this doesn’t feel like a crisis when it happens. It feels routine, legal, and justified. That’s how systems keep going.
On Good Friday, the system didn’t feel like a machine to those inside it. It felt necessary. It felt like keeping order. It felt like doing what needed to be done.
That’s what makes it so dangerous.
James Cone, in The Cross and the Lynching Tree, wrote that the crucifixion was a first-century lynching.1 Rome used it to send a message: this is what happens when you step outside the boundaries of power. The cross was not just about death. It was a public warning, meant to show the crowd how to behave. Cone says we can’t understand the cross unless we see how it works within systems of domination. It’s not just a symbol. It’s political, social, and real.
Once you see this, it’s harder to distance yourself, because the question changes. It’s no longer, “What happened to Jesus?” It becomes, “How does this keep happening?”
One detail in the story stays with me.
While Jesus is dying, the soldiers gamble for his clothes. They don’t stop or think about what they’re doing. They don’t see the seriousness of their actions. They just keep going. That’s how systems work; they teach people to keep moving forward.
Howard Thurman once asked what happens to the human spirit when it has to live in conditions that deny its dignity.2 He saw that the biggest danger is not just what systems do to outsiders, but also what they do to the people who enforce them. Something narrows. Something hardens. Something learns not to see.
Good Friday doesn’t ask us to put on grief. It asks us to look closely at how harm becomes normal. It asks us to notice where we’re being taught not to see. It asks us to pay attention to the quiet ways we adjust, explain, and move on. And it reminds us that we’re not just bystanders.
The hard truth is that any of these roles could be ours. We might be the anxious leader trying to keep things together, the voice that goes along to avoid trouble, the crowd that believes what it’s told, the worker who follows orders, or sometimes, the one who refuses.
There’s not much resolution in this story. No one steps in to stop the execution. The system doesn’t fix itself in time. The crowd doesn’t change its mind.
What’s left is a witness. A small group stays. They can’t change what happens, but they refuse to leave. They stay present, even when it costs them. Their presence keeps something human alive in a moment meant to erase it.
We’re not separate from this story. We live inside systems that shape people’s lives every day. Some of these systems protect life, and some take away from it.
The work is not to fix everything at once. No one can do that. The work is to stay awake to what is happening. To resist the slow training that teaches us not to see. To remain human in the middle of structures that can make that difficult.
Good Friday doesn’t end with clear answers or victory. It leaves us with a body, a silence, and a question we can’t avoid: What kind of people will we become inside systems like these?
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
Where do you see harm becoming procedural or normalized in the world around you right now?
In what ways do you feel pressure to look away, minimize, or move on too quickly?
What would it mean for you to “remain present” in this moment, even in a small, quiet way?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer for the Courage to See
God of the broken and the burdened, You see what we try not to see. You hear what we have learned to ignore. Keep us from becoming so adjusted to this world that we lose our capacity to recognize harm. Give us the courage to look clearly, the steadiness to remain present, and the wisdom to act with integrity when the moment asks something of us. Hold us when we feel overwhelmed, and keep alive in us what is still tender, still human, still awake. Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Interrupting the Drift
At some point today, pause when you encounter a news story, policy decision, or moment of tension that you would normally scroll past or move on from quickly.
Do not analyze it immediately. Do not debate it.
Instead, sit with one simple question: Who is most affected by this?
Let your attention rest there for a few minutes.
If you can, take one small step toward remaining present: reach out, learn more, offer support, or simply refuse to look away.
The practice is not about solving the issue.
It is about interrupting the habit of disengagement and choosing to stay human.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
My team and I launched a new experiment we are calling “The Commons.” It’s an online space centered around communities of practice: groups of people who share a common concern, set of problems, or passion for a topic, and deepen their knowledge and expertise by interacting on an ongoing basis. Join the community here.
April 7, 2026, 7-8:30pm ET - Rev. Dr. Matthew Fox and I are hosting another 4-part series on “Visions for the Common Good.” This series will include sessions with David Abram (cultural ecologist), Lynne Twist (global activist), Randy Woodley (Cherokee scholar and wisdom-keeper), and yours truly! All sessions are recorded, and you will get the link if you can’t make it. Learn more here.
NEW!!! On July 19-24, 2026, I’ll be leading a Women’s Wellness Retreat in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming, and I’d love to extend the invitation to you. We’ll spend five days off the grid, riding horses through wide open landscapes, sharing meals, and creating space to slow down enough to hear ourselves think again. This isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about returning to yourself, settling your nervous system, letting go of what you’ve been carrying, and getting clearer about what matters now. The group will be small (no more than 10 women), and we’ll move at a steady, spacious pace, with plenty of room for both conversation and quiet. I hope you’ll consider joining us.
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
Fun Things My Friends Are Up To…
I get to work with such amazing, creative people. This section is my way of celebrating them—no paid promotions, just joy in what they’re creating.
My friends at the Center for Action and Contemplation are offering a fantastic program called “Have We Been Here Before? Ancient Wisdom for Days of Disruption.” At this live 90-minute online gathering, CAC Faculty Carmen Acevedo Butcher, Ph.D., James Finley, Ph.D., Fr. Richard Rohr, and guest teacher Kaitlin Curtice, will show you how ancient contemplative wisdom and traditions may support us in times of social, political, and spiritual instability. Sign up here!
The Benedictine Sisters of Erie are hosting a webinar with my friend, Fr. Adam Bucko and Katie Grodon April 14th. Katie and Adam will explore how new expressions of monastic community are bridging this ancient tradition to contemporary seekers in ways that enable more people to commit to lives of prayer, service, and transformation, in and beyond the monastery. Register for free to receive the zoom link.
Have you discovered Randy Woodley’s Substack yet? He is writing a 15 part series about democracy as an indigenous teacher and theologian. He just told me that next he is doing a 7 part series on AI. I can’t wait!
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
Cone, James H. The Cross and the Lynching Tree. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2011, p. xv.
Thurman, Howard. Jesus and the Disinherited. Boston: Beacon Press, 1949, p. 11.
Thank you for such a poignant reflection, Cameron. I instantly thought of Stella’s (aka Pink Coat Lady) interview with Anderson Cooper. Several times she talked about staying. I’ll find it later and come share the full quote here.
I reading @katarmas book “Liturgies for Resisting Empire”, and I hope she sees your meditation.
Thank you, Cameron, for your deeply thoughtful, faith-filled, relevant, and inspiring posts. I am so grateful for each one of them. Peaceful blessings to you!