GoodFriday

So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them. Pilate also had an inscription written and put on the cross. It read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” Many of the Jews read this inscription, because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, in Latin, and in Greek. Then the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’” Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.” When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four parts, one for each soldier. They also took his tunic; now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. So they said to one another, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots to see who will get it.” This was to fulfill what the scripture says, “They divided my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.”

And that is what the soldiers did. Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciples whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, this is your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour, the disciple took her into his own home.

After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture) “I am thirsty.” A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

It is an honor to be with you this afternoon - and particularly to be here at the bequest of a man whom I deeply respect for his faithful leadership; his commitment to ecumenism; and his gentle spirit. I have not taken advantage of the opportunity to attend this stations of the cross service before now - and so last week, I took the time to read over the bulletin that Bob sent to those who would preach today. In the process, I was reminded of what a blessing it is to have differing accounts of Jesus’ passion.

The idea of there being different accounts of an event as central as Jesus’ trial, crucifixion and resurrection may strike some as odd – indeed, it may even add fuel to the fire of those who would dismiss God’s saving act as a non-historical folly - proven by the fact that those who believe can’t even get their stories straight.

But I think that to those who are on the rocky road of discipleship, these differing accounts are a gift. They are a gift that opens up the mystery and wonder of who Jesus Christ was and who Jesus Christ is.

There is Matthew’s account of the crucifixion – which points toward our responsibility in the death of the Lord. Matthew has Pilate washing his hands; Judas hanging himself after the betrayal; the haunting quote uttered by the established religious leaders “His blood be on us and on our children.”

There is Mark – who presents an abandoned Jesus, left to face the hour of his death alone. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me…”

There is Luke – who emphasizes the compassion of Jesus even as he is bears the weight of suffering. Luke has the Jesus who breaks our heart with the words, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do…”

And then there is John – which I just read and is the suggested lectionary for today. In John, Jesus is sovereign. He is in control. He takes the cross to Golgotha by himself; he settles his affairs in a poignant exchange between his mother and the disciple whom he loved; he fulfills scripture by his choice of words. And finally – in a manner which foreshadows his power over the emptiness of death – he gives up his Spirit with a declarative statement; which establishes who is in charge of the situation: “It is finished.”¹

There is a multiplicity of meaning in these different stories of Jesus’ death. Each account focuses our gaze on a different aspect of what God was doing on the cross. And that is to be expected because, as human beings, we cannot comprehend the totality of such an act – and so we look at the mystery from different angles.

To be sure, there are times when we need to be reminded of our own complicity in the crucifixion of Jesus; times when we need to be reminded of the agony of solitude that being a follower of Jesus will necessarily entail; times when we long for the unwarranted compassion that Jesus provides.

But today – I am grateful that the lectionary points us to John. I am grateful because – as citizens of a city ravaged by violence; as citizens of a country embroiled in war; as the children of God living in a world that cowers under the threat of chaos and bloodshed – we need to be reminded of a crucified Christ who is in control - of a God who reigns.

We need to be reminded of the power of Jesus on the Cross because we are persecuted by a different power: the power of death. Death is a power that strikes fear in our hearts and causes us distrust our neighbors. It erodes our sense of community and erodes our trust in a God who is in control of this world.

It is a power that is manifested in the rampant and senseless killing that has gripped our city from the New Year to now – with families slain, widows and orphans shocked, communities devastated.

It is a power that leaves us embroiled in a war that was fought over the threat of what might be – and has left nearly 2,500 US troops dead and two countries divided.

It is a power that terrorizes the Dafur region of the Sudan; the hillsides of Columbia; the dusty roads of the West Bank; the heart of Jerusalem.

Living as captives to this power – we need to be reminded of the Christ who willingly goes to the Cross to meet the power of death face-to-face. We need to be reminded of the Christ of John’s gospel who remains steadfastly in control amidst what surely must have been a desire to avoid the suffering. We need to be reminded of the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world – as well as our reason to submit ourselves to the power of death.

As a biblical scholar has said, of all the accounts of Jesus’ crucifixion “[John’s] is the narrative that has made Good Friday good. It is a narrative for all those who have been persecuted by power, but whose sense that God is with them has made them realize how little power any worldly authority really has. Those who believe in Jesus have eternal life, and like him, they can say, ‘No one takes it away from me.’”²

In John, Good Friday is indeed good – but it is not without challenge and it is still before the promise of Easter.

A sovereign Jesus hanging on the Cross may free us from the intimidation of death – but it also leaves us exposed. Throughout his gospel, John portrays Jesus as the Light of the World. This comes to a head when Jesus takes his place on the cross atop Golgotha.

When the Light of the World is on display for all to see, they’re aren’t many shadows—and the parts of ourselves that we try to hide come into clear view.³

The Light of the World exposed Peter for his shallow loyalties: “Aren’t you one of his followers?” “No, I do not know the man.” It exposed the religious leaders of the day for their collusion with the state, “We have no king but the Emperor!” It exposed Pilate for his weak spine, “I can find no case against him…” while turning Jesus over to be crucified.

It makes me wonder what it is that we try to hide. Maybe we hide our deep fears that enslave us to the power of death - even though we profess to believe in a God who reigns. Perhaps it is our insatiable desire for control over our neighbors. It could be our shallow loyalties to anyone but ourselves.

The danger is believing that the Light of the World has dimmed enough to keep what separates us from God hidden.

But that is not possible on this day. Today we are all laid bare – because the Light of the World is on a hill for all to see – suffering in plain view so that we may have abundant life.

Soon we will see the soft light of Easter morning. But not now. Now, we only see the harsh light of the Cross.

I hope we do not turn away – because there is power to be found in the One who faces the inevitability of death –power to be found in the Light who reigns even when life is extinguished. If we can keep our gaze, we might learn from what is exposed – and we might use that knowledge to face the darkness of this hour with courage.

All glory, dominion, and power be to the One true God who reigns even in suffering. Amen.

1 This comparison of the gospel accounts of the passion narrative are taken from Raymond Brown, A Crucified Christ in Holy Week, which I found cited in the lecture notes of Dr. Frances Taylor-Gench at Union-PSCE.

2 Also from Raymond Brown, A Crucified Christ in Holy Week.

3 This idea of how we are exposed is derived from a sermon by Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Perfect Mirror,” found in the March 18-25 (1998) issue of The Christian Century.