Grace to you and peace from
God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Yes, this is the correct Gospel
reading for today, the Last Sunday of the Church Year, also called Christ the
King Sunday. It is a bit ironic, I think. We call this “The Last Sunday of the
Church year.” It’s a bit of a misnomer. It’s not the last Sunday, at all –
unless, of course, Jesus returns between now and Saturday, midnight. It’s
another Sunday, another Easter, where we celebrate Christ for us.
Still, anyone else feel that it’s
very strange to read this Good Friday narrative at the end of November? All
around us, the rest of the world around us is hip-deep in pre-Christmas. Trees
are up, inflatable Santas and Rudolphs fight in front yards, and T-Swizzle,
Chris Stapleton, and Bruce Springsteen join Mariah Carey singing that all she
wants for Christmas is youuuuuuu... Kids are making virtual wish lists
while parents virtually gasp at this year’s prices.
Over and against this worldview,
Luke gives us what is succinctly labeled as “The Crucifixion.”
Why would we read about Jesus’
crucifixion on the last week of the church year? Aren’t we supposed to be
focusing on Jesus’ return, setting the stage for the season of Advent? What
do you think? Why does the Church pause our (worldly) holiday preparations
with such a stark reading?
The reading actually does keep us
leaning into the promise of Jesus’ return on the last day, but it does it in a
back-handed sort of way. The narrative of the crucifixion reminds us that until
Jesus does return, the struggle of life in a sinful, fallen world continues. Yes,
Christ died; yes, Christ rose. Yet, as we wait in this fallen world for its
redemption and the consummation of our salvation, this reading stands as a
reminder of how much we need Jesus – not just at Easter or Christmas, but now, and
every day, as we wait for His return.
And, it does set the stage for
Advent. Christmas and Easter go together. The reason Jesus was born, remember,
was to “save His people from their sins,” (Matthew 1:21). The crucifixion was
the climactic high point of His perfect life, to be the perfect sacrifice. In
short, He was born to die. He was Christmassed to be Crucified. He
could be die because He was God in flesh. Immanuel; God with us.
Yes, that is a solemn reading for
the last Sunday of the church year, but it is also a reading that is filled
with joy – the joy of the cross, where Jesus died for us.
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| James Tissot "The Pardon of the Good Thief" tissot-pardon-of-the-good-thief.jpg (426×749) |
I want to focus on one sentence, for a moment, verse 34: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Given the circumstances, that
Jesus was being nailed to one of the most horrific instruments of death ever
devised by man, humanly speaking, it is remarkable that He speaks a word of
absolution. Who of us could – would – do such a thing if we were in His place?
Yes, this was His purpose – to be the atoning price; yes, this was the Father’s
will; yes, this sacrifice was necessary. In His Divine nature, what else could
He have done except do what He, as God, could do: show perfect love. Even so,
the prayer for mercy catches us with a bit of surprise.
Consider those three words, “Father,
forgive them.” Who is “them”? Them is a pronoun, third person, neuter
plural, if you want to be particular. Because it’s a pronoun, we need to define
its antecedent - the person, place, thing, or idea to which a pronoun refers.
From the immediate context, the antecedent of “them” is the soldiers, those who
drove the nails into the hands of our Lord. I think you could also argue Jesus
is speaking of those who condemned Him as well – the Sanhedrin, Pilate, and
Herod, all who gave consent to murder an innocent man. Broaden it again - who
else could it speak of? How about the crowd that demanded His life? The
soldiers that arrested Him in the garden (assuming that the posse wasn’t the
same as those that actually drove the nails)? I think that those are all solid
contextual guesses.
Go back to the sentence for a
moment: “Father, forgive them…” Contextually, yes, those words were spoken for
those in that moment who sinned against Christ in their murderous actions. But,
those words also apply for you as well. His prayer of forgiveness wasn’t
just for that double-handful of rulers and soldiers, or even for the crowd that
would gather at the foot of the cross and mock and laugh. It is for all who
sinned against God and man. It is as if Jesus is praying, “Father, forgive them
all, for in their weakness, they don’t even realize how often they are sinning
against each other and against Us.”
I suspect that, as the calendar
year comes to its frantic, frenzied conclusion, you have a litany of sins you
carry. The person you get frustrated with, just by seeing his face or hearing
her voice. The colleague whose incessant emails and texts send you into
paroxysms of hand-clenching and teeth-grinding, as you carefully reply with
what you have to say and not what you want to say. There are even
moments when you have a few choice thoughts about a son or daughter, a husband
or wife, a brother or sister. You know you’re guilty of sinning against these
people: Lord, have mercy. Jesus’ words speak for you as well: “Father,
forgive him….forgive her…” For Christ’s sake, God does exactly that.
And, remarkably, those same words
are spoken for those who have sinned against you – the colleague, the child,
the spouse, the sibling, co-worker, the guy driving the pickup that cut you off
on the way to church this morning. Their sins are also paid, reconciled by
God’s grace through Christ – even those who do not recognize Him, Jesus died
for them, too – although they do not receive the gift because of an absence of
faith.
One of the gifts God gives to His
church is the rite of absolution. The public, corporate act of confession and
absolution that takes place on Sundays in the Divine Service is a wonderful,
powerful moment of forgiveness. But, sometimes, there is a particularly
troubling sin that weighs on the conscience. Satan loves to hold that over your
head with the question, “But that one…did Jesus really forgive that one, too?”
If you are troubled, speak with your pastor. It is his responsibility and
privilege to hear your confession and speak that promise of God to you: “You
are forgiven for the sake of Christ.” As to whether he will tell someone else,
the pastor is bound by his ordination vows to never tell a soul – not his wife,
not his best friend, not even his goldfish. It is as if your confessed sin is
buried in the tomb of Jesus and never raised to life in word or memory.
As the church year draws to its
close, those words of absolution echo through the millennia. God continues to
forgive for the sake of His Son’s perfect atonement.
In five short days, the secular
world will celebrate one of the most secular of all holidays. For those who
bemoan the commercialization of Christmas, this holiday puts that to shame.
It’s called simply, “Black Friday.” I
have no idea where the term came from, what its etymology might be. All I know
is that it is supposed to be a day filled with high-stress shopping, wrestling
crowds, and budget-busting, all in the name of “finding a good deal.”
Luke tells the narrative of the
original Black Friday. You have to add a couple of verses to the Gospel reading
to find it. “It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the
whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed,” (v. 44-45a).
Creation was responding to the Light of the World dying. The One who spoke all
things into existence, the One in whom is life and light, is dying to redeem
even the world. Last week, Psalm 148 called all aspects of creation to praise
the Lord. When Jesus dies, all aspects of creation reverse course. What’s the
opposite of praise? Perhaps lament is the best word. Creation, especially the
sun, laments the Son’s death. Darkness, that once hovered over the face of the
deep (Genesis 1:1), again encroaches.
We traditionally call this day that Luke describes, “Good Friday.” I do know the etymology of “Good.” It comes from “God.” So, for
example, “Goodbye” is actually derived from the blessing “God be with ye.” Good
Friday, then, becomes God’s Friday. It was the day God surrendered His Son for
the world to redeem it from the eternal darkness of hell.
Thanks be to God, the darkness
did not last. When the sun rose on Easter morning, bringing light to the new
day, so also the Son also rose, living, breathing, resurrected, shining His
light against the darkness of sin, satan, and death. The Light who is the Light
of Life was restored, raised from the dead, evidence that God accepted Jesus’
sacrifice.
While the secular world fights
for Black Friday deals and saving a few bucks, we remember and give thanks to
God who saved the world through Christ’s death on Good Friday, God’s Friday.
We, of course, know the rest of
the story. Jesus, though He died, also rose, conquering sin’s stranglehold on
man, the grave’s terror over death, and satan’s lies toward the Christian
conscience. When Christ rose Easter morning, there was no doubt that this
Jesus, whom the world mocked saying, “Hail, King of the Jews,” is in fact the
King of Kings and Lord of Lords who ruled before the world began and who will
rule when the heavens and earth will be renewed and restored, creation returned
to the wholeness it had before the separation of the fall.
We’re not there, yet. We see Him,
now, in His glory, with eyes of faith – albeit dimly. Because He died, we shall
live. Because He rose, we shall rise. On that great day of our own
resurrection, we will see Him fully resplendent with our own resurrected and
whole and holy eyes.
Next Sunday, the season of Advent
begins. There is a bit of a handshake between the last Sundays of the church
year and Advent. Both are anticipating Christ’s return in judgement, both look
forward to the day He advents, He comes, in glory.
Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest.
And as we wait, thy Name, we confess. Amen.
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