On Good Friday my associates and I preached on the Seven Last Words from noon to 3 pm. I thought everyone did a wonderful job. Here are all the sermons, except the one by Pamm McGill. I will include Pamm's sermon as soon as I have it.
1. "Father,
forgive them for they do not know what they are doing"
The Rev. Bob Spencer,
transitional deacon
Last night
we witnessed the betrayal and arrest of Jesus along with a mock trial. This morning we have witnessed Jesus being
tortured – brutally and unmercifully – then condemned to death by
crucifixion. Our Stations of the Cross
take us to station 11 and Jesus being nailed to the cross. The movies about this crucifixion show Jesus
crawling onto the cross, even kissing it.
I shed tears at this moment knowing that He did it for me. Yes, and for you too but I know He suffered
this terrible ordeal for me.
Death by
crucifixion is basically death by asphyxiation.
Many articles have been published about what Jesus had to endure, what
pain He had to suffer to even utter a few words. Today we are assembled to hear those last
seven words.
Jesus had
to fight through searing horrific pain to say anything. Picture this in your mind’s eye: it is the
6th hour (noon by our modern standards) and the cross with Jesus nailed on it
has been raised to its upright position.
Jesus pushes on His feet – nailed to the cross – I can’t imagine the
pain – He pulls with his arms – nailed to the cross – again scorching burning
pain – just to get enough air to say something.
What He says under these circumstances defies description, He prays,
“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” I’ll try phonetic Aramaic ABBA, pachop eli
havaianoi viaton.
This first
word (saying) has so many elements in just 11 actual words.
He calls
God Father, using the same familiarity He gave us in the Lord’s Prayer, and
that He used in the Garden of Gethsemane just last night
This prayer
is totally and completely unselfish. Jesus does not ask for forgiveness for
himself (how many of us would sacrifice
even that request?). He is concerned
for the people who are responsible for crucifying him and is asking God to
forgive them. Who are these people who are responsible?
He could be
praying for the Roman soldiers who routinely put men to death; just obeying
orders.
Pilate might
be a better candidate. He was a crass, two-faced, self-serving politician;
desperate to hold onto power. To avoid a
riot he gave the order to execute Jesus.
He routinely ordered executions and it was in his authority.
The Chief
priests and scribes were the prime force behind the crucifixion; they were
determined to kill him. Behind the scenes they had paid off Judas for his
betrayal. They felt Jesus was a threat
to their power and authority --- the ability to remove such threats was condoned.
The
Pharisees and Sadducees sought to discredit him. The Pharisees were the
first to actively plot Jesus' death (Matthew 12:14). Sadly, we have the
equivalent of them in todays’ Church. The real Jesus is just too threatening to
established religious powers that resist change.
The
disciples who abandoned Him. Although He
told the guards to let them go, they
were pretty much running away.
There is
Peter who swore he would never abandon Him.
Peter must have had horrible shame after bragging and then denying Jesus
– three times.
Finally
there’s you and me. Think about it. I don’t know about you, but I have done
things I need forgiveness for. When my daughter died in 1971, just 21 days old,
I thought Jesus had turned his back on me.
It wasn’t until 1981 when I realized that it was me that had turned my
back on Jesus and He had been with me the entire journey.
Jesus gave
the caveat, “for they do not know
what they are doing”. We have
2,000 Years of hindsight. We look at
what happened and think, yea, sure --- they did know what they were doing, but
did they really? Jesus’ entire ministry
was full of love and forgiveness. His
own apostles walked with Him and witnessed this love. Right about
now, at this time of day they are hiding out, afraid for their
lives. Until Easter morning they really
don’t know, they just don’t get it.
Paul, who
isn’t really too much on the scene yet
describes it so well:
"None
of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would
not have crucified the Lord of glory." (1 Corinthians 2:8; see Acts 3:17)
Paul
himself, who persecuted Christians to their death, did it because he just
didn't understand.
"Even
though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown
mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief." (1 Timothy 1:13)
We have a
lot of company in deserving forgiveness because we didn’t know what we were
doing. In my own journey when I had
turned my back on Him I really and truly did not know what I was doing. I prayed for my daughter to live, against
some pretty tough odds, and felt that because my prayer wasn’t answered the way
I wanted, God must have turned His back on me.
Now when I read the Passion
or see the movies, I know in my innermost being that Jesus died for me and
these first words are directed at me some 2,000 years later.
2. "This day
you will be with me in paradise"
The Rev. Bonnie
Polley, Deacon
Chaplain to the Las
Vegas Police Dept
As we come to the second “words of
the cross”, we find ourselves listening to a conversation between Jesus and two
others who were crucified with him.
One of the criminals was mocking
Jesus, deriding him saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked
him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of
condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we for getting what
we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong. “Then he said,
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” It concludes with Jesus
pardoning the repentant man and giving him eternal life. “Truly I tell you,
today you will be with me in Paradise.”
The jail is full of those who rail
against God in their self-righteousness and presume that God is obliged to make
their life smooth. There is no spirit of
brokenness, or guilt, or penitence, or humility. They only see Jesus as a way out, an
escape. It never enters their minds to
repent and change direction.
Rick was one of these. Rick, a body builder who won national
recognition, was charged with the murder of a woman who was his Administrative
Assistant. He slit her throat, stuffed her in the truck of his car and set the
car on fire. From the minute Rick was
booked and charged, he justified his actions one way or another. He worked the system from the get go, doing
everything possible to make himself look like he had gotten a raw deal and was
also a victim. At his trial he testified
against his wife who was his co-defendant, making it look like she killed the
woman in a jealous rage and that he was only was only there for the ride. He
had no need to repent.
But there are only a few who own up
to the fact that God owes us nothing, and that any good to come our way will be
due to his mercy, not out merit.
Kelly was one of the latter. Kelly was one of my inmates charged with a
hideous crime. Kelly, Rick’s co-defendant, like the penitent thief admitted
that she was guilty and wrong. She surrendered; laid herself open before the
God she feared and accepted her punishment as deserved and without
complaint. Kelly will be in prison for
the rest of her life. She is serving
God, acknowledging the goodness and power of Jesus. As part of Kelly’s
testimony, she shapes three crosses. She
holds up the first cross. “Jesus is on this one, she says. The second cross also had a clay figure on
it. The thief is on this one. Then she holds up the third cross and
explains why it is bare. I am the
murderer that should he on this cross, but instead it is empty. Because Jesus died, I am here today—alive and
free on Life Row.
Kelly asked Jesus “remember me when
you come into your kingdom. Jesus replied, “today you will be with me in
paradise”.
The Greek word for paradise, the
word we often mistake for Heaven, is paradisio. It refers to the Garden of Eden-a state of
delight-a place where all things are just, and fair, and whole.
I don’t know about y’all, but I
have certainly wondered what heaven is like?
I wonder where it is, I wonder what we will do there. I wonder if it will be fun and I worry that
it might be boring. I wonder if we will
wear clothes and what will they be like.
I wonder what our new bodies will look like, what will we eat, where
will we live. Will we be recognized by
our loved ones and our friends? Will we
see our pets whom we loved? Will Rufus
remember me? Will he run around in circles
with excitement when he sees me? Will he still want to be taken for his
walk? Will we see God face to face and
what will God look like? Will all of our
questions finally be answered?
No-one has captured what heaven
will be like as well as C.S. Lewis.
Taking his cue from Jesus’ reference to Paradise and Isaiah 11’s
depiction of predators and prey living together in perfect harmony, Lewis
imagined a magical place he called Narnia.
Heaven, Lewis suggested, is a gloriously beautiful and exciting place of
unlimited adventure and unlimited security where you can swim up waterfalls and
play with wild animals without ever being afraid. Heaven is a place of reunion
with the people you love to see and get to know, a place where good things
never end and each adventure is better than the one before. Heaven is a place where every creature is in
the prime of life, in the best possible physical shape, and free from the
constraints of time and the bondage of sin.
A place called paradise is what
Jesus promised the thief on the cross.
It was his promise to Kelly. It
is his promise to you and to me. Thanks
be to God.
3. "Woman,
behold your son; son, behold your mother"
The Rev. Gaye Lagana,
Deacon
Director of pastoral
care
We
are gathered here today offering our presence to our dear Jesus as he is making
his transition in the most brutal way.
As we are immersed in our own grief and loss and feeling abandoned by
the one who we thought would save us from our own misery of suffering, we hear
his words, "Woman behold your son,
and to his disciple, Behold your mother!"
And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.
"Woman
behold your son, and to the disciple he said, behold your mother." And from that hour the disciple took her to
his own home. These words, this message
reverberates within my body. As my grief
subsides, I am coming to know how they are directing me to live. This is a most generous final act of
Jesus. Out of his compassion for his
Mother's welfare, Jesus gives her to the one who he knows will care for her as
well as his knowledge of the compassion and tenderness that Mary can offer his
disciple. Joined as family to each other
they can fortify each other in this time of grief. Jesus knew their vulnerabilities that needed attention first. Then they could
continue with the ministries that were set before them.
And
from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. There was no waiting, no
forms to sign, no institutions to sanction this adoption, no questions of the
legitimacy of this family creation, just a pure intention of the heart to offer
solace and comfort to each other.
Now
I said these words live in me and are directing me in how to live. What exactly does that mean? For me the gospel is personal and it is
relational. It is my story. I live in it, and it lives in me. Time is collapsed. The past becomes my present and my present becomes my future. From the cross to now. A leap in time.
This
gift of relationship gives me pause to reflect on "who are we to each
other." Who is my mother? Who is my father? Who are my Brothers? Who are my sisters? Who are my children? How do I create a family? Is my family one or two people, or is it a
whole community?
We
have all been given a family from which we originate and if we were lucky we
were nurtured and cared for until we could offer the same love and nurturance
in return. But what about those folks
who have been abandoned in one form or another from birth? Who is their family? Have they lost status because they have been
disenfranchised from birth? That was the
norm when I was growing up in the 40' and fifties. Is it still applicable today? Should it be?
As a
daughter of the Christ, I witness the disintegration and recreation of the
fabric of our society. There are deaths
as well as new life dissolving and coming into being on a daily basis. While our last two major wars are ended, we
are still impacted as a society by the return of our broken soldiers. Many are returning to families who can not
behold them in the old way, mentally,
spiritually, emotionally and physically.
While they may want to return to the comfort of what was, a wide chasm
has been created and their new job is to create a bridge to their futures. Their lives have been rearranged and they
need to begin a new. The life of Jesus
offers them hope.
As I
write this homily, I hear a very sad story on the news which took place in a
community close to where I grew up. In
Murrysville, PA, a young man took two sharp ten inch knives to school and
started to stab his classmates. Luckily,
none of his classmates died, but several remain critical. It was learned that this young man wanted to
die. How sad that he found no recourse
to his pain. He was not able to ask for
help. He felt he had to resort to
inflicting pain on others to resolve his own pain. This story is tragic and very sad.
What
I also learned in this story, is that many of the students acted in a heroic way saving the lives of fellow
students. One young man stepped in front of his best friend to save her from a stab wound. Instinctively, his friend applied a level of
caring intervention which saved his life.
These levels of conflict run deeply within us and now more than ever we
need to hear the words of the gospel and live them to protect the life we have
been given.
Even
though we have tragedy all around us, we also have hope. With a clear and loving intention in our
hearts we can be agents of positive and powerful change. I find the words of a Beatles’ song which I
have slightly changed reflect the hope that Jesus offers us.
"When
I find myself in times of trouble
Mother
Mary comes to me,
Speaking
words of wisdom, let me see.
And
in my hour of darkness
She
is standing right in front of me
Speaking
words of wisdom, let me see.
Whisper
words of wisdom, let me see."
To
fulfill the promise of the Christ, the song affirms-
"And
when the broken hearted people
Living
in the world agree
There
will be an answer, let it be
For
though they may be parted
There
is still a chance that they will see
There
will be an answer, let it be."
Amen.
4. "My God,
my God, why have you forsaken me?"
The Rev. Richard
O'Brien,
Senior associate
priest
My God, my
God, why have you forsaken me? Of all
the utterings of Jesus on this bleak day, that is the one that resonates with
me the most. It is so out of character
with the idea we have in our heads of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the good shepherd; the finder of
lost souls. Jesus taught us to turn the
other cheek, to love our neighbor as ourselves, to champion the poor, the
downtrodden and the marginalized. And
this gentle teacher, this man who loves all without regard to status or
position, breaks down at the end.
The same
Jesus who prays that God forgive them for they know not what they are doing,
the same Jesus who takes pity on the thief, utters the all too human lament,
“my God my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Who of us has not had that thought in moments of deep sorrow, pain or
despair? When life seems more than we
can bear, when the world has closed in around us, when the pain seems too much
for us, we find ourselves uttering this same sentiment. And that is exactly the point.
When he
chose to become one of us, Jesus fully became one of us. He accepted human form and was incarnated as
fully and completely human. Jesus was
both fully divine and fully human, and we see glimpses of both of these
throughout the seven last words. But it
is in these rare moments where Jesus’ pure humanity shines through, like when
he drove the money changers out of the temple, or when he wept at the tomb of
Lazarus. These images remind us that
Jesus’ incarnation was not merely for show.
He didn’t merely pretend to be human, he truly was human. And being human, he had to remain human
through the good and the bad times. When
he was driven into the desert and tempted by the devil, Jesus the Lord could
easily have used his power to feed himself or to prove that he was in fact the
messiah. But that would have meant he
was not really human, that he was only playing a part as a human like an actor
in a play. To use his power for his own
benefit would have been to do something that the rest of us cannot. Jesus used his divinity many times in the
service of others, but he never once used his power for his own gain. So Jesus, in his great love for us, fully
embraced his humanity. And that meant
accepting the humiliation and pain of death upon the cross.
But knowing
that he had to do it was not the same as experiencing the brutality of it. It is one thing to intellectualize a concept;
it is another thing entirely to experience the reality of it. The human Jesus lived as we do, loved as we
do, and suffered as we do. And it is
this agonizing suffering that manifested itself in the all-too-human wail “my
God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
We would
think nothing of this if any one of us had said it. No one would expect to go through such agony
and not utter something like it. It is
remarkable to us because it was said by Jesus the Christ, the king of kings and
lord of lords. But remember that it was
really said by Jesus of Nazareth, a humble man who was persecuted for crimes he
didn’t commit, was tortured and executed as a sacrificial lamb. This amazing demonstration of his humanity is
a tangible reminder of how much our Lord gave up for us with the incarnation, and
how awesome a sacrifice he made at the crucifixion.
5. "I thirst"
Ms. Pamm McGill
Postulant for the vocational diaconate
6. “It is finished”
Ms. Terri Porter,
Director of Sunday School
All
the time, I say that for big projects. Working,
laboring on a new yard project recently, exhausted, sore to the bone,
completely filthy, satisfied….. “Whew! Time for a beer. That’s finished!” And I dusted off my hands, rested up,
and got involved in another project – one that needed to be finished.
Sometimes
we use those words at the close of a chapter in our lives. Selling a home. Relocating. Ending a painful relationship, even a
marriage. Retirement. “That’s finished.”
And
we use those words at the end of long struggles. Not too long ago, my favorite aunt
fought her way through a terminal illness. For almost a year, she patiently
endured hospitalizations, numerous surgeries, painful procedure after painful
procedure – all because her husband and son could not accept the inevitable
conclusion of her life. When
they finally yielded to the offer of hospice care and brought her home for her
last days, there was relief. As
she gasped for her final breaths, there was even a whisper of joy through the
sorrow. “It’s over! It’s finished.”
When
Jesus said “It is finished,” I believe there were layers of meanings. Close of another chapter. Finished with the chapter of constant
tramping up and down the roads and towns of Galilee and Judea. Finished with the constant baiting by
his critics. Finished with
the fickle adulation of the throngs that gathered wherever he
went.
On
to the new project of living at the right hand of God, living to be our great
High Priest, and, as the writer to the Hebrews said, “ever living to make
intercession for us.”
Finished
with the great struggle – the exhausting, excruciating week of the
Passion. Finished with the
horrible ordeal of the trials, beatings, and crucifixion.
But
most of all, it was the GREAT FINISH of his ultimate work of redemption. Our modern minds somehow struggle with
this idea of a God who would ask for sacrifice of blood in exchange for
redemption. When I lived in
Jerusalem, I was blessed
with the opportunity to go twice to the summit of Mt. Gerazim and observe the
Samaritan Passover sacrifice. Late
in the afternoon, the children ran among the lambs in the large enclosure,
playing, laughing. Then
close to sundown, the priests entered the enclosure and began chanting ancient
prayers. Just as the sun
dipped to the horizon, each family took its lamb, slit the throat, and tipped
the lamb upward to catch the blood in a basin. The priests dipped greens in the blood
and sprinkled the family. Then
one family member carried the blood quickly to their home to mark the
doors. One swab and the
top, swab on either side, the drops inevitably falling to the ground, making a
perfect sign of the cross.
Not
long after, I was invited to accompany a group of scholars into the Old City of
Jerusalem to meet with a controversial group of ultra-Orthodox Jewish
enthusiasts who are busily preparing garments, vestments, and equipment for use
when the Temple is rebuilt on the Temple Mount. One of the scholars asked, “Are you
really planning to return to the practice of animal sacrifice? Why?” The spokesperson answered, “It is
commanded. How do we
know? Maybe God is a social
Being who likes good barbecue. We
simply obey.”
Jesus
obeyed. Christ’s great work
of redemption. FINISH to
the hold of sin and failure as the defining characteristics of our earthly
lives. FINISH to the fear
and despair that attack each one of us at one time or another. And FINISH to death as the ultimate
end to our existence.
Whether
we understand it or not, His sacrifice is accepted. It is FINISHED.
7. "Father,
into your hands I commit my spirit"
The Rev. J. Barry
Vaughn,
Rector of Christ
Church
There are
many stories about last words. Sometimes they are funny. When Oscar Wilde lay
dying, he said, "Either this wallpaper goes, or I do." When Queen
Victoria's favorite prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli was dying, the queen wished
to visit him, and Disraeli said, "Why should I see her? She will only want
me to give a message to her late husband Prince Albert." I think the last
words of the composer Beethoven are especially poignant. Beethoven more or less
completely lost his hearing about twelve years before he died. On his death
bed, the composer said, "In heaven I shall hear." And sometimes, last
words are inspiring. When Charles Gore, the bishop of Birmingham, England, was
at the point of death, he whispered, "Transcendent glory."
According
to Luke's gospel, the last words of Christ on the cross were, "Father,
into your hands, I commit my spirit."
Think
carefully about those words. Jesus did not LOSE his life on the cross; he GAVE
UP his life. Death was not something that happened to Jesus; it was something
that he chose, something that he embraced. He was not a passive victim; he was
an active participant. But exactly what was Jesus doing on the cross?
Perhaps
you, like I, were raised in a Baptist church or some other evangelical church,
and received a big dose of the blood of Jesus just about every Sunday. Frankly,
it became tiresome. I thought there must be more to Christianity than Jesus'
death, so when I found the Episcopal Church with its emphasis on the LIFE of
Jesus and not just on his death, I was delighted. I think that for many years I
de-emphasized the cross and the death of Jesus. But now, perhaps because I am
getting close to sixty years of age or perhaps because I have done more reading
and research, the cross is becoming increasingly important to me.
From the
very beginning, the Christian faith has taught that Jesus' death on the cross
was redemptive. In Colossians, Paul says, "For in him all the fullness of
God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all
things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his
cross." (Col. 1.19-20)
There are
many ways to understand the death of Jesus.
One way to
think of his death on the cross is to see it as God's way of releasing a powerful,
redemptive energy into the world. Have you ever used a glow stick? I'm sure you
have seen them. They contain two chemicals that are inert until they are mixed.
When you break the glow stick, the two chemicals combine and begin to glow. The
death of Christ on the cross is a little like that. Christ's broken body
releases some kind of light, some kind of energy into the universe. We see that
energy in the lives of men and women such as Mother Teresa of Calcutta giving
their lives to care for the poor dying on the streets of Calcutta; Dietrich
Bonhoeffer resisting tyranny to the point of giving his own life in a
Christ-like way; Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., witnessing for non-violent
resistance to oppression even to the point of death; and as Bonnie Polley
reminded us last night, Albert Schweitzer, the theologian/musician/physician
who cared for Africa's children in Lambarene. We see Christ's redemptive energy
in all kinds of ways in our own lives: Whenever reconciliation overcomes
estrangement; forgiveness overcomes guilt; and healing overcomes brokenness.
Above all,
however, I believe that we must understand that we live in a cross-shaped
world. Anglicans, in general, and Episcopalians, in particular, are too quick
to turn from the cross to the incarnation. We are too quick to emphasize the
goodness of the world, the "original blessing", if you will, and too
reluctant to take a hard look at the world's fundamental brokenness because I
believe that that is what is meant by the phrase "original sin". Make
no mistake: the world IS good; God declared it to be good and never changed his
mind. But the world is also terribly broken, alienated, and estranged, and that
is what the cross shows us.
We live in
a world full of people who live daily with the reality of the cross. People who
live with the reality of oppression and persecution. Think of the people of
North Korea and Ukraine. We live in a world full of people who know what it is
like to thirst and hunger. Think of all the people we serve through Epicenter.
We live in a world full of people who know what it is like to suffer and die
far, far too young. Presently, the United States, one of the richest countries
in the world, is ranked 30th in infant mortality behind Finland, Sweden,
Iceland, Norway, the Netherlands, and other countries. Mary's experience of
watching her Son die on the cross is an experience that mothers all over the
world have every day, including far too many mothers in this country.
But
ultimately, the death of Christ on the cross is a mystery to be pondered and
celebrated, not a problem to be solved. It is best approached in song and
prayer, not systematic theology. Theologian Richard Holloway writes, "...
the death of Christ was a decisive encounter with the powers of evil on a cosmic
scale... Somewhere a mighty victory has been won, though it has plunged a spear
into the very heart of God... We do not yet see it fully disclosed, though we
are visited by hints of it, sudden little rushes of certainty; but one day we
shall see it, and seeing it weep that it cost God in Christ so much, and yet
rejoice that all sorrow has been turned into joy and that all, at last, has
been made well." (Holloway, The Way of the Cross, pp. 100-101)
