I can't think of a better way to celebrate spring than
a walk along the Mississippi such as you describe. I wish
I could have been along, although I'm sufficiently realistic
to know that my presence might have - would have - spoiled
the party.

I share your fascination with the Cetinkaya correspondence.
I should be surprised, if it can last, if Dr. Cetinkaya will
be able to stomach my interpretation of contemporary science
and especially of modern medical theory and practice, ideas
likely to be intolerable to everyone except to you and Helmut,
my friend Cynthia Behrman and Klemens. (Margaret doesn't count;
she knows me too well to take me seriously.) I hope before he
gives up on me, Caner will give me the opportunity to learn
from him about the language of Turkey, about its literature,
music and religion, about which I know little more than the
frivolous libretto of Mozart's Abduction.  Quite possibly Caner
has been so assimilated to modern Germany that his parents'
homeland is almost as foreign to him as it is to me.

Around the corner from where I sit, on the wall of my parents'
bedroom, between the large mirror back of the dresser and the
door, there hangs very simply framed with black tape to a thin
pane of glass, a small postcard showing in shades of grey, in
very close range, a mountain peak of jagged rock partially
overgrown with clumps of grass. At the very summit, into a sky
of threatening cumulus clouds, looms a large but simple cross,
fashioned of two timbers in the conventional proportions at
right angles. At the lower margin of the postcard the legend:
"Hoch ragt das Kreuz von Golgatha" and immediately below:
"Heimat fuer Heimatlose!" The author of this pious sentiment
is not listed.

To me the postcard is like a scar, almost a birthmark: for better
or worse, it has constituted part of my consciousness at least
for seventy-three years. I remember that before we left Germany,
I considered the postcard my own. Whether it was specially selected
for me or whether it was appropriated by me, I can't remember. 
Those were the days when I was scouring the gravestones in the
city's churchyards for sentiments of loss and loneliness.  I do
remember helping to frame the picture and thus turn it into a prized
possession. In 1940, when the Medical Center had been built, and I
first had a room of my own, I hung it on the wall above my bed.
There it remained while I went off to Philadelphia and to Cambridge.
When, in 1952, my parents moved into their new house, the postcard
found its place, not inappropriately I think, next to the mirror.
To me it now seems like a yardstick with which I may measure how
much I have changed.

I have a vivid memory, in his lectures on Goethe, of Karl Vietor's
relating to his students that Goethe, who cultivated an optimistic
view of human nature and of human life, was offended by the 
obiquitous display on church steeples of the cross as the symbol
of suffering. I entertained the possibility of adopting Goethe's
sentiments, but ruled against them. Human suffering is terribly
real and ought be neither concealed nor denied. If I nonetheless
object to the public display of crucifixion mementos it's because
I interpret such exhibitions as shameless mockery of the suffering
of which it purports to remind us. I consider them as veils to 
mask, as decoys to distract from the cruelty which is rampant in
our society,  which we conceal from ourselves with curtains of
deceptions and lies; and against the stench of which we spray
ourselves with perfumes of self-righteousness.

The name of the Bruegel painting, "Procession to Calvary" is a
descriptor applicable also to the heavy truck and passenger car
traffic on Interstate 81, a road which we regularly drive from
Scranton PA to Chilhowie VA on the way to Konnarock and back
when we return to Belmont. On the way south, just beyond Exit 300,
where one first sees the northern reaches of the Blue Ridge
Mountains on the eastern horizon, the highway turns westward,
traversing a moderately deep valley north of Strasburg (VA)
ascending from which as the lanes turn south, the driver is
confronted with a set of three monumental crosses set on a hill
by the roadside. The central and largest of these three crosses
is of golden color. It is flanked by smaller ones with silvery
paint. This advertisement for conventional Christianity is
repeated at least once further on, featuring a set of identical
crosses some miles north of Roanoke VA. One approaches these
monuments to religious zeal without warning. No signs such as
"Crucifixion Ahead, Fines Doubled for Speeding", no informational
markers such as: "Golgotha Rest Area, No Sanitary Facilities,
Keep Dogs On Leash". Obviously Golgotha is taken for granted
and occasions no traffic congestion, no slowing of cars or trucks
careening past at 70 m.p.h.  The crosses by the side of the
highway interrupt the sequence of other, secular, advertisements.
Since each set of crosses is identical with the next, I infer
organization at work; manufacture is centralized, distribution
is franchised, - on what terms of course I don't know.  In any
event, the crosses are made in USA for Golgotha in the American
style. I'm impressed by both the differences and the similarities
with the "Gipfelkreuze" which dot the peaks of Bavarian and
Austrian mountains, reminded of Rembrandt's etchings of the
three crosses in multiple states of shadow, darkness and gloom,
reminded not least of the postcard picture from my childhood, now
on the bedroom wall, with the cross rising from rocky mountain
top toward threatening cumulus clouds; and I must assume that
the public displays of religiosity that are embarrassing to me
when I pass them on the highway, have for their sponsors meanings
analogous to that which the cross on the postcard had for me in
my early childhood. My personal apprehension of Golgatha on the
Interstate is never absent and requires no advertising. It reaches
a crescendo when I pass the prisons: between in the very broad
median of Interstate 95 near Needham MA, near Interstate 84 in
Danbury CT, on both sides of Interstate 84 near Fishkill NY, by
the side of Interstate 81 in Frackville PA, and overlooking
Interstate 81 in Marion VA.  I apologize to the inmates whose
sites of humiliation/incarceration I've overlooked; but what I've
listed should suffice to reflect the inhumanity of our culture.

All this prefatory to an attempt to address your question of what
the crucifixion represents to me, the answer to which might require
more than one lifetime. I begin with the observation that I consider
"religious experience" pure subjectivity, and therefore ultimately
inaccessible to verbal exposition which being social or interpersonal
is inherently objective.

Given this caveat, I appoint myself as your Rabbi and remind you
that "Golgatha" is a Hebrew expression, that Judaism is broad and
deep enough to encompass "Christianity" and that both Judaism
and Christianity should be understood as phases of a single religious
phenomenon. I make this assertion, because you have previously told me
that it makes you laugh; and making you laugh, i.e. making you happy,
is the ultimate purpose of my letters to you.

The crucifixion has many dimensions, can be understood in many
perspectives. I don't know where I should begin.
As I have emphatically explained in
http://home.earthlink.net/~ernstmeyer/andere/K01.TXT
I read all scripture as literature, and I believe literature
properly understood, must be read as scripture.  Most immediately,
the accounts of the crucifixion deserve to be read as tragedy,
evoking pity and fear, and effecting the purgation of these emotions.
(Aristotle, Poetics) Aeschylus' drama "Prometheus" is also the
account of the crucifixion of a god. The differences and the
similarities between the Greek and the Hebrew religious experience
are deserving of thought.

I agree emphatically with your statement:

"Yet it seems as though society harbors a desire
to seek resolution through human or animal sacrifice. 
For example, when things go wrong in government,
or in an organization, there is enormous pressure
for someone "at the top" to resign.  This satisfies
the multitudes that the sin has been expiated,
even though, more often than not, the one sacrificed
was not especially responsible for the transgression,
and the resignation or firing of said individual will
do nothing to make a recurrence less likely."

The phenomenon you describe is not new.
I am reminded of the Jewish ritual by which the sins
of the Israelites are transferred to the scapegoat
which is then sent to perish in the wilderness.
Here's the account from Wikipedia:

"Throughout the year and on the Day of Atonement,
the the record of all the sins of the Israelites
was transferred to the Tabernacle by the blood
of the sacrifices. On the Day of Atonement, the
tabernacle was cleansed of all the accumulated sins
by the ritual described in Leviticus 16. At that
time the high priest transfers the accumulated sins
from the tabernacle to the scapegoat which is then
sent into the desert wilderness. The Tabernacle
is thus cleansed of sin."

My home-brew theology suggests to me that it was Isaiah's
deep understanding of human nature that led him to conclude:

a) that the instrument by which a society cleanses itself
of imperfection (sin) is not really a goat or a lamb, but
is in fact a select member of that society whom it punishes
and destroys.

b) that the cleansing of the society from sin is inherently
a divine function, and that he who thus cleanses society is
"the arm of the LORD" on whom "the LORD hath laid ... the
iniquity of us all." 

By describing the meekness of that select member of society
as that of a lamb, Isaiah created the metaphor of the Lamb of God.
Jesus was a Jew who unconsciously/consciously acted out
Isaiah's prophecy.

In this context Chapter 53 of Isaiah is essential, worth reading
once more:

1 Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the LORD revealed?
2 For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant,
and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness;
and when we shall see him, there [is] no beauty that we should desire him.
3 He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows,
and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were [our] faces from him;
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4 Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows:
yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
5 But he [was] wounded for our transgressions, [he was] bruised
for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace [was] upon him;
and with his stripes we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one
to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth:
he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before
her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.
8 He was taken from prison and from judgment:
and who shall declare his generation?
for he was cut off out of the land of the living:
for the transgression of my people was he stricken.
9 And he made his grave with the wicked,
and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence,
neither [was any] deceit in his mouth.
10 Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him; he hath put [him] to grief:
when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin,
he shall see [his] seed, he shall prolong [his] days,
and the pleasure of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.
11 He shall see of the travail of his soul, [and] shall be satisfied:
by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many;
for he shall bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore will I divide him [a portion] with the great,
and he shall divide the spoil with the strong;
because he hath poured out his soul unto death:
and he was numbered with the transgressors;
and he bare the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors.

================================

I interpret the "success" of Christian dogma as consequence of the
circumstance that the crucifixion defines a fateful fault-line,
to use the geologist's term, of human nature. The human being
is both an individual and a social creature. Human individuality
and human sociability are on a deep level mutually contradictory
and irreconcilable. Human beings are unconditionally dependent
on each other for their existence; yet to exist, human beings
must assert themselves against one another and compete with one
another. Hence hostility between human beings is unavoidable.
Within the human spirit, sympathy as the cement of society
and hostility as the defense of individuality are in unremitting
competition; and neither can gain the ascendance because both are
essential for survival. Sympathy and hostility are expressed
directly between individuals as love and hate. Sympathy is
expressed indirectly in the solicitude and care with which
society cherishes and protects its individual members,
Hostility is expressed indirectly in the callousness and cruelty
with which society not infrequently destroys one of its own,
whether with confiscation of property, with imprisonment,
with torture or with judicial killing. The person who is the
target of social hostility becomes an outcast and a scapegoat.
Social hostility is integral to the existence of societies, which
need both external and internal enemies in order to remain viable.
External enemies are the targets of military action. Internal
enemies are objects, victims, of judicial prosecution or
persecution.  The high priest was fulfilling his proper function
when he gave advice: "Es war aber Caiphas der den Juden riet,
es waere gut, dass ein Mensch wuerde umgebracht fuer das Volk."
(But it was Caiphas who advised the Jews that it was good that
a person should be killed for the people.)

We human beings, I believe, are generally unaware of what we
feel and what we fear. Certainly the spiritual seismic tensions
which are created by the quasi geologic fault of our natures
are as inscrutable to us as are the subterranean forces which
periodically cause earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions.
I would understand if the Japanese, for example, lapsed into the
habit of wearing Mount Fuji shaped amulets to ward of earthquakes.
I interpret the crosses which dangle from the necks of so many
human geese as amulets to ward off the seismic societal catastrophe
which is epitomized and symbolized by crucifixion as the ultimate
expulsion from society. The interpretation of the crucifixion as
an expression of seismic events is firmly grounded in the New
Testament which describes the earthquake that ensued on the 
death of Jesus:

"Und siehe da, der Vorhang im Tempel zerriss
in zwei Stuecke von oben an bis unten aus.
Und die Erde erbebete und die Felsen zerrissen ..."

"And behold, the veil of the temple was rent
in twain from the top to the bottom;
and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent;  ..."
Matthew 27:51

These considerations remind me once more of my picture postcard
with its legend "Heimat fuer Heimatlose". The crucifixion creates
an imaginary - but emotionally very compelling - other-worldly
home to which the individual who is persecuted "in this world"
is invited to flee. Moreover, "persecution in this world"
is far more prevalent than we are prepared to admit. Your
description of the film the "Mill and the Cross" suggests that
its scriptwriters found persecution even in the Bruegel
Procession to Calvary where it was on the surface inapparent.
I suspect that a large fraction of gun-toting NRA members
who have crosses dangling from their pickup truck rearview
mirrors feel actually or potentially at odds with society, i.e.,
persecuted. Their being attracted by the powerful symbolism
of the crucifixion is plausible to me.

It's significant that the crucifixion finds an expression in
art far more persuasive than any efforts at rationalization.
The experience which is sublimated in the literary, musical
and pictorial depiction of the crucifixion is not amenable
to logical analysis.  The spiritual significance of art is
clearly defined in the fourth book of the Pentateuch. Having
prohibited, in the Ten Commandments, all pictorial representation,
God, after he had sent snakes to kill his chosen people, changes
his mind and to rescue them institutes art as medical therapy,
specifically by instructing Moses to make a brazen image of a
serpent, and to raise the symbol high before the stricken people
of Israel, ordaining that whoever gazes on the work of art of the
brazen serpent shall be immunized against the venom of the living
prototype - Too bad that Aristotle never had a look at the
Septuagint. To my mind Moses' esthetics is more persuasive by far
than Aristotles'.  St. John went even further than Moses when he
made the essential connection that posited the crucified Jesus as
an object of healing, writing: As Moses lifted up the serpent in
the wilderness, so shall the Son of Man be lifted up that whosoever
gazes on him shall not die ...  John's exegesis identifying as it
does the crucified Christ with the brazen serpent as emblems of
healing and redemption equates the victim of crucifixion on whom we
gaze not as human, not as divine, but as the ultimate work of art.

As for the stumbling stone issue, whether Jesus is "God", I skip
over it with the observation that inasmuch as no one can say
who or what "God" is, the question whether Jesus is "God" is a
teaser which makes no sense; or, in a more serious vein, I look
for help to Bill Clinton who explained to the world that the answer
depends on what the meaning of is is.

Please try hard to laugh at me and my ideas ....