Whew! That was a lot to read. And painful to read as well.
Why do we call it GOOD FRIDAY when so much bad happens?
Christ dies, painfully, in agony on the cross. For the only time in John's gospel Jesus shows some humanity when he says, "I thirst". Then his side is pierced and he is laid into a tomb.
And before that Peter denies him three times. Pilate has him flogged and turns him over to be crucified. What is "good" about that?
I preached a sermon years ago on the feast of Christ the King, but it mentions Good Friday. I want to share that with you today.
CHRIST THE KING
Here
we are, on the Sunday before the first Sunday of Advent, poised on the edge of
preparing ourselves to receive the Christ Child into our hearts, and what is
the reading we get? Something from Luke about Good Friday….Something about the
crucifixion.
A
little jarring and ‘out of time’, it seems to me.
I’m
reminded of how the Council of Churches—which became the Interfaith
Ministry—used to have a Good Friday service here at St. John’s.
The service was “The Seven Last
Words of Christ” combined with our Book of Common Prayer Good Friday Service.
There were always 7 sermons—talk about a way to make Good Friday dismal and
BAD!!!—and I was in charge of making sure the whole thing fit into the hours
between noon and 3 p.m.
Dealing
with 7 preachers and a set-in-stone time frame was always an adventure!
Preachers, by-in-large, don’t like to be given limits but I would limit them to
no more than 7 minutes for their sermons, knowing full well most would go past
10 or 12. I’d built in enough silence to manage that. But the last one of those
we had, the preacher on the 6th word had gone on for almost 15
minutes about the crucifixion, when he said: “Now let us go back to Bethlehem….”
“Oh
no!” I said to myself, with expletives deleted, “we’re going in the wrong
direction!”
That’s
rather how I feel today. We’re preparing to embark on the journey to Bethlehem and Luke has
jerked us to Golgotha and the conversation
between Jesus and two other dying men.
Since it is what
we are given by the Lectionary, it is what we will attend to—Jesus talking with
the two thieves.
What
is interesting about the exchange, in my mind, is this: the first thief
parroted the slurs of the crowds and jeeringly called on Jesus to save
himself—and to save the two other condemned men as well. Not only did that
first thief by into the “conventional wisdom” of the leaders of his day, he was
thinking of ‘himself’ above all. “Save yourself and US!”
The
second thief had another view of the situation. “We have been condemned justly,
for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds,” he tells the other
man. “But
this man has done nothing wrong….”
The
second thief is not thinking of ‘himself’. In fact, he has a realistic
understanding that, for him, ‘the punishment fits the crime’. Instead, that
second thief, bleeding and dying, is thinking of the one beside him, who is
innocent in his mind.
That
is a place well worthy to begin Advent—thinking
of the one beside you, the ones around you, those even far away…instead of
thinking of yourself.
That
could be recommended for all of us as a way to prepare our hearts for the visit
of the Child of Bethlehem.
But
the conversation is not yet over. The second thief has one more thing to say to
Jesus.
“Jesus,”
he says, life slipping away from him, “remember me when you come into
your Kingdom….”
That
is certainly a second recommendation for all of us as a way to prepare our
hearts for the visit of the Christ Child.
REMEMBER
ME….REMEMBER ME….REMEMBER ME….
Memory
is one of the most precious gifts God gives us. Memory is our anchor in the
angry sea, our Rock in the storm, our Hope in the times of Trouble. Memory ties
us to our identity—to WHO we are and WHOSE we are as we continue our journey.
WHO
we are and WHOSE we are is clear. We are the children of God, and as we move
through the shadows and darkness of Lent we should pray God to “remember us”.
And God will….
“Truly
I tell you,” Jesus tells the thief, “today you will be with me in
Paradise..”
There’s
a third recommendation to us in today’s readings as we verge on the preparation
of Advent. It comes from the Psalm of the day—Psalm 46, my favorite Psalm of
all. After that Psalm tells us that we need not fear the changes and chances of
life, the song reminds us of this: Listen—“BE STILL, THEN, AND KNOW THAT I AM
GOD….”
Next
Sunday, Advent begins—one of the great and wondrous seasons of the Church’s
year. And today we are given advice on how to prepare to prepare our hearts and lives to receive the gift of God at
Christmas.
It’s
not hard. It’s not rocket science or heart surgery. It is, in fact, as simple
as ABC.
Think of others, not yourself.
Pray to God to
‘remember’ you.
Be still…find time
to be still…and in that you will know God.
That’s
the advice I’ll seek to follow.
I
invite you to do the same.
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