Saturday, April 19, 2014

Dying Words to the Living: Good Friday 2014

[This sermon was preached on Good Friday 2014 at Cornerstone Christian Church, El Dorado Hills]

Dying Words for Living
Good Friday 2014

Introduction

DVD Illustration: Far and Away, ch. 1, 6:19-8:12 "“You’re an odd boy, Joseph.” You came back to tell me that?"

Matthew 27, Luke 23, John 19, Mark 15

But in many ways, the words of Jesus, spoken as he was hanging on the cross, are even stranger. If he really knew he was going to rise on the 3rd day, couldn’t he have said some words of comfort? “Don’t worry folks, this death is just temporary.” Or “Don’t be sad. It will be all right.” Maybe even just a wink, to let those who knew, in on his little resurrection secret. But he didn’t. So, why did he speak seven times?

These last seven sentences of Jesus were from the cross, the place of execution. And each one cost him. Death on a cross is a slow, painful death by asphyxiation. Hanging down with your hands above you, you cannot breathe because your lungs cannot fill. In order to speak, Jesus had to raise himself, his hands pulling and his feet pushing against the iron nails that pinned them to the cross. His back, raw from the flogging with bits of nail and bone and glass, rubbing against the rough splintered face of the cross. Just to get a breath. He could choose to breathe, or he could choose to speak. Each word cost him. We listen to Jesus’ last words, not because he was ignorant of the coming resurrection, but because the people were living like they were ignorant of his impending return from death.

He spoke to give hope-but it was a strange type of hope. It is the type of hope that is only learned by coming face to face with the apparent absence of God. Jesus had been a visible, tangible part of people’s lives for at least three years and in some cases his whole life. Now he is going away. How those listening and watching Jesus react--good or bad--is a test of their hope because these days after Jesus’s death are a sneak preview of life. Now Jesus has returned to heaven and we who are heirs of the resurrection—we who possess the words of life--face the same test of our hope. Will we trust him? Will we take him at his word?

No. The answer is no. We fail. But it is in our failure that we must grapple with God’s great grace towards us. So these words of Jesus from the cross—these seven last words—teach us how to live with God’s absence, our failure, and God’s amazing goodness.

First, he offers forgiveness.

Forgiveness

Luke 23:34: Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

Executions were public. They were public spectacles. Like hangings, but stretching on for hours. The city of Jerusalem was full of pilgrims who had come to celebrate the Jewish holy day of Passover, which would start at sun down. The crucifixion of Jesus was like the television broadcast of an electric chair execution of a death row inmate. Horrifying, but somehow irresistible.

From the cross, erected on the hill Golgotha—which means ‘place of the skull’—Jesus had a unique, unenviable view of the variety within the crowds. Not everyone was sad to see Jesus go.  Not the priests, not the rulers, not the Romans.

The chief priests (who were Sadducees) were relieved that Jesus was dying, because he threatened their position.  If the Romans saw him as ‘King of the Jews’ (as was written on the sign above his head, cf. John 19:19-21), they would, at best, remove the priesthood, and at worst, torch Jerusalem and the temple.  They had spent their life cultivating an uneasy truce—an accommodation--with the Romans and their culture. Jesus jeopardized that. They could breathe easy.

The rulers (who were probably Pharisees) were relieved that Jesus was dying, because he threatened their position. They sneered, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.” (Luke 23:25). The Pharisees saw their country’s current pitiful situation as due to moral failure—a spurning of God’s laws. Their solution was demanding, exacting observance of the Law—for purification. Then they made laws about the laws. The Pharisees were the political correctness police—the arbiters of the Law. When Jesus exposed their do-gooder-ism was just a mask for selfishness trying to gain negotiating leverage with God, they decided he couldn’t be the Messiah. Time to look for another Messiah who met their criteria.

The Romans were relieved that Jesus was dying, because he threatened their position. If Israel didn’t control the important trade route along the eastern edge of the Mediterranean, they probably would have given it up as too much trouble. Little Messiahs, little revolts, little bands of rebels.  Now the Jews want to hand one over for execution? Ok, no problem. The Roman soldiers thought it was funny that Jesus was all the “king” and “prophet” the Jews could come up with: “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” (Luke 23: 37, cf. Luke 22:64) He was a nuisance. But guard duty got the grave goods and a quick game of dice to decide who got the best piece.

Jesus looks down from the cross. “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” They want peace, but have missed the one who gives. When coming to Jerusalem, Jesus said:  “If you [Jerusalem], even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.” (Luke 19:42) What they really wanted was peace, and they were killing that peace on the cross.

But Jesus gives what they don’t even know they are missing. Jesus gives us what we don’t even know we are missing. The peace we deeply desire does not come from our position, our status or our significance. It comes from Jesus’ position, Jesus’ status and Jesus’ significance. We don’t know we are doing. But Jesus still offers forgiveness.

But we are not convinced that we need forgiveness. That is why Jesus’ second words from the cross tell us of separation.

Separation

Forgiveness is not free. In Matthew (27:46) it says: “About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

Jesus’ is quoting first line of an ancient song, recorded in the 22nd psalm that describe the author’s feelings of separation from God. Why was he separated from God? Because of he had sinned against God. But wait. Jesus sinned? No. He carried our sin. The Bible says: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Cor. 5:21)

Something unique happened at the cross. For all of eternity, the Father and the Son and the Spirit, the three aspects or persons of God had lived together in perfect harmony and community. Jesus said, “I and the Father are one.” But on the cross the offenses of every man, woman and child is introduced to Jesus and he feels the separation that this sin necessarily implies and he cries out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” How can they live like this? How can they be ok with this? It is a half-life, with the spiritual part of us strangled--missing—dead.

Sin is not just what we have done wrong, it is the ‘being ok’ with being away from God.

That’s why Jesus third words are needed, to speak of salvation.

Salvation

Luke 23:43: Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
Jesus says these words to another audience. First, there were the chief priests, the rulers, the Romans and now there are…the rebels. While some translations use the word ‘robber’ or ‘thief’ a better word in this context is that Jesus was executed between two rebels—maybe even allies of Barabbas, the murderer released in the governor’s amnesty plan just hours before.

One of these rebels uses one of his last moments to insult Jesus: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:39) Talk about wasting your breath. If they were rebels, they fought against those who pushed them down-the Romans, to bring them down. Now, in death, the first rebel’s words to Jesus are angry words, to bring him down.

But the other rebel’s words are startling-so unexpected they deserve a careful look. First, he realizes that difference between his life and Jesus’ life: “We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” (Luke 23:41) Second, breathtakingly, he asks for help, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42) I read that this week, and it almost made me laugh. The sheer audacity, the sheer craziness of asking a dying Jesus for help, it makes you wonder if the world is upside-down. Go to a hospital, find the man with the tubes running into his veins and in his nose and ask him for a portion in his kingdom? But he did. “Remember me…”

Jesus’ words let us know what is really essential. You can live for about 8 weeks without food, you can live for maybe a week without water, you can live for 4 minutes without air, but you cannot live for one moment longer…without the grace of God. “Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Salvation is the spiritual re-awakening to a starting-right-now eternal relationship with God - based on the Jesus’ act of forgiveness on the cross.

That forgiveness creates a new community. The community of the forgiven.  

Relationship

Jesus’ fourth words from the cross speak to this new type of community relationship, especially in the times when God seems distant.

John records (John 19:26-27): “When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”

Only one disciple is mentioned at the cross (John), but many women made the heart-wrenching trip to see Jesus die, including four(!) named Mary. This may seem obvious, but Jesus gave special attention to the spiritual lives of women in a society where they were ignored. They looked to Jesus as a rabbi, who would give significance, in his death, there was only resignation. They would watch him die, they would wail for him, they would perfume his body. They would carry on, but they had hoped for so much more. How much more for Mary, the mother of Jesus!

As the oldest son, Jesus would have received a double portion of the inheritance and a double portion of the responsibility, including the responsibility of looking after his mother. Upon Jesus’ death this role would have naturally fallen to James or one of Mary’s other children. Instead he charges John “whom he loved” with this family responsibility. Why? Because our relationship is closer.

In some ways, it is easier to love the family you were born with. Some families are great, some are horrible, but at least they are known quantities. But to love the family you have joined with Jesus, brings you into a brother/sister, parent/child, uncle/aunt/cousin relationship with, well, me, or you. All sorts of strange people.

Jesus was going away. But he left his new brothers and sisters to be Jesus with skin on. Will you be that?

Will you adopt someone in church? If you’re like me and struggle, just pick one. Start with one. Let God in and remake your heart towards one. Then make room for another. Play up the family of God. Play up the church. Don’t play it down.

He gave the word of Relationship because he knew we would need it.

Distress

Jesus’ fifth word speaks to us in our distress. He knew that we would need each other to do what God asks us to do.

John 19:28: Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.”

Why does Jesus say this? Some have looked at the “Scripture fulfilled” part and assumed Jesus did this because there was a prophecy (Isaiah 69:21) about supplying of wine vinegar to ease that thirst, Jesus said this. That is, Jesus had a mental prophecy checklist and there was one box still unchecked and he thought to himself after 6 hours hanging on the cross, “Guess I need a drink now.”

I think he said “I am thirsty” because….he was thirsty.

  1. 1.    First, Jesus speaks to let us know that he has been at the physical extremes.
  2. 2. Second, Jesus speaks to let us know that even in this distress, it is possible to be fulfilling God’s purpose.
  3. 3. Third, Jesus speaks to let us know that admitting this allows others to step in and help.
  4. 4. Fourth, Jesus speaks to let us know that allowing others to help is essential to fulfilling our purpose.


He knew thirst. He knew weariness. Dehydration was already setting in, and his mouth was parched, but he still needed to speak. We’re only on his fifth word, two more to go.

Someone, probably one of his disciples, heard his distress and ran to fill a sponge with a jar of wine vinegar, and lifted it to his lips. Wetting his lips, letting it dribble into his mouth, it was enough so that he could speak what came next.

Did you catch that? Jesus needed help to fulfill his purpose. In our life, we have a purpose. In our life, we have distress. The resource God provides to bridge purpose across the distress is other people. He has set up this group—this church--here so that we can bridge the distress.  There are only two categories: those in need and those in strength.

We need to fulfill our purpose and we need help.

Commitment

Then Jesus speaks in the sixth word to let us know where, despite all appearances, we should trust God.

Luke 23:46: Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. (Psalm 31:5)

In traditional Japanese restaurants, there is always a head chef, a master chef. You can go to these restaurants and you can order from a menu. Or you can say, “Omakase” which literally means “I leave it (or entrust it) to you.”  In which case you don’t get what you want, but rather what the excellence and creativity of the master chef can produce.  

Jesus’ words aren’t just the wishful thinking of a dying man saying, “I hope somebody is out there.” He says: “Father” he says. That’s relationship. “into your hands.” That’s what the Father can do. “I commit” That’s trust. “my spirit” That’s the extent of my commitment. This wasn’t just Jesus’ dying gasp, this was the way Jesus’ lived his life.

Each day, omakase. I entrust myself to you God. I await your excellence and creativity.

"I have placed many things in my hands and lost them all, but whatever I place in God's hands I still have them." ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Triumph

Jesus last word seems very final. “It is finished.” Done. Complete. Period. But the whole lesson that Jesus teaches through the cross is that, in God, every period is not the end of a sentence. It is the chance for God to write a new one.

John 19:30: When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

What was finished? His mission. “I have come that you may have life and have it more abundantly.” “I have come to seek and to save that which was lost.”

In the city, in the temple, on the eve Passover, the priests were preparing the lamb that commemorated God’s intervention to end the years of slavery and open the path to a new freedom. They did every year.

Outside the city, on a cross, on the eve of Passover, the soldiers were preparing the Jesus, the Lamb of God who commemorates God’s intervention in our lives to end years of slavery to sin and open the path to a new freedom. He did it once.

So what happened when Jesus said these last words:

First, “the curtain of the temple was torn.” Because of Jesus, we can have direct, restored, relationship with God. He bore the cost of forgiveness; the weight of our wrong-doing; so that we have access.

Matthew 27:50-54 (ESV), “And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yield up his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.

Second, “the earth shook”. The natural world reacted.

And the earth shook, and the rocks were split.

Third, “the tombs also were opened and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised…” Death was breached. The sentence of sin has always been death. But the cross of Jesus goes past death, into new uncharted territory: resurrected life. We often think of life as being tied to “Easter” (with Jesus’ resurrection) but even in his death, there was life.

The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised and coming out the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many.

Fourth, the “centurion and those who were with him…were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the son of God.” It is interesting to note that in the death of Jesus only the criminal and the oppressor recognized Jesus’ death as extraordinary. The disciples, went away beating their breast. The women went away in resignation The Pharisees and chief priests went away in satisfaction.

When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God.”

It is finished. So that it can begin.

God will take us to the extremes, to bring out from our heart what really lies within. Jesus words give a guided tour of our reactions—to come face to face with our expectations, hopes and dreams and realize how utterly inadequate they are.

The problem is that our dreams are too small, because they revolve around us. It is not about us winning. It is about God winning.

The problem is that our dreams rely on us, getting our act together, managing the situation and getting out ahead. It is not about our getting out ahead.  It is about God being ahead.

The cross is the finish of dreams…our dreams. But it can be the start of God’s dreams, if we are willing to admit the gap between him and us, his understanding and ours, his forgiveness and our failures, bridged by the cross of Jesus.

Benediction

“I rise today with the power of God to pilot me. God's strength to sustain me God's wisdom to guide me, God's eye to look ahead for me, God's ear to hear me, God's word to speak for me, God's hand to protect me, God's way before me, God's shield to defend me, God's host to deliver me, from snares of devils, from evil temptations, from nature's failings, from all who wish to harm me, far or near, alone and in a crowd.” -- Patrick of Ireland