147 young Kenyans have mercilessly been killed for being Christian. The sacrifice of this Holy Week. 147 mothers and fathers suffering their loss as if standing at the foot of the multitude of crosses carrying the dead bodies of their sons and daughters. Many more friends and family members paying respect to the dead, getting ready to bid farewell. Where was their God when the killers cowardly shot them? He was dying along with them, echoing the same words said two thousand years ago: ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!’ Jesus was dying with them, offering the last second consolation: ‘Today you will be with me in paradise.’

But why didn’t God stop the murderers in the first place? I don’t know. It’s as incomprehensible as when his own only Son was sentenced to death, tortured and eventually crucified. Looking back we can see that Jesus’ death made sense; but we can see that from the distance. At this moment we don’t know why all these people died. We will be able to comprehend that in the future. We can believe that their sacrifice makes sense, but at this moment it is faith only. That’s why we’re here today: to entrust to the crucified Jesus all the pain, suffering and injustice. We’re here trying in faith to make sense of a seemingly senseless world around us. We’re here to make Jesus’ final words our own: ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’

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