Good Friday

Read John's Gospel 18.1-19.42

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 6^th 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.

 

Bernie is out

I was all in with Bernie Sanders. In fact, he may be more conservative than me.

But he is suspending his campaign, meaning Joe Biden will be the nominee.

Biden needs to name his female running mate and his whole cabinet (including progressives and Republicans--a unity cabinet) before the election.

Joe knows how to delegate and how to let the experts and the science people be in charge.

Go, Joe!

I'm with you all the way.

the moon, the moon

The moon is full and beautiful tonight. Thought I'd share a poem.

So Cold the Moon

I went out on our back porch,

which faces East,

and the wood creaked from the cold.

My teeth got cold,

smoking a cigarette.

It's almost too cold to smoke,

but not just yet.

Smoke in my mouth and smoke

from our neighbor's chimney

in front of the moon and Venus,

just below.

The moon is so full tonight,

through the smoke,

and so cold.

I used to hate the chill,

but no more.

Something clear and silent

about the cold

gives me a quiet joy.

Something pure and crystalline

about such cold.

Something smoky and dark,

and something in the moon,

so high, so frozen, so alone.

Except for Venus, just below.

To the East from my back porch.

And smoke—across the moon

and in my mouth,

with my chill teeth.

Jgb

Epiphany 2015

another gift of the virus

All around the world, air pollution is at its lowest level in years!

The economic issues of the virus are cleaning the air.

Maybe another positive thing about this pandemic is that we could realize we could take the pressure off the environment.

Those who move us forward to rebuild the economy could do it in a way that honors 'this fragile earth, our island.'

To be seen.

Continue to support those who are standing between us and total disaster: medical workers, ambulance drivers, police and fire, and those who work in grocery stores and service stations.

Wash your hands and stay well.

Maundy Thursday

Read the Gospel of John 13.1-17, 31-35

The Last Supper in John's gospel puts the emphasis on 'service', not sharing bread and wine.

Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. At that time of history there were no sidewalks or paved streets and no 'shoes' as we know them. So, walking on dusty, muddy roads in sandals play havoc with your feet. It was the custom to have water and towels available in your home for guests to wash their feet. It kept your home cleaner and gave the guests a chance to feel 'clean'.

Today there are some cultures who leave shoes by the front door and don't wear them inside. That is the modern equivalent of that first century practice.

But the host was not the one who washed people's feet--they did it themselves.

Yet Jesus washed his disciples feet--in spite of their objections. Humility and Service, good lessons to learn of this holy day.

Humility and Service. And the courage to 'be served'. Hard lessons, but holy ones.

Maundy Thursday is my favorite holiday. Usually because, in the other gospels it is about the institution of the Eucharist.

This is such a hard time and bizarre Holy Week that I thought I'd share a sermon from long ago, from simpler times, which touches on what we will miss this year. Hopefully, it will make us appreciate what we miss more when it can return.

Maundy Thursday 2008

          Maundy Thursday is always my favorite holy day

          And I always talk about eating.

          And often I get too long winded and go on and on and people wonder when I’ll ever finish.

          Something about ‘meals’ keeps me talking beyond what is necessary.

          So, this year I wrote it down so it would be controlled and less than 10 minutes and you wouldn’t have to wonder if I’d wandered off into some crack in my brain and wouldn’t be back for a while!

          Easter dinner is special in our home. We aren’t surrounded by ‘family’ so we have invented a ‘family’ for holidays. We have friends who come to share our table on Thanksgiving and Christmas and, most of all, for me, on Easter.

         

          John will be there—a friend of mine since college who lives in New Haven and is a Warden at Christ Church. West Virginians through and through—John and I. We have a patois that is Mountain Talk that few can follow if they didn’t grow up in that lush and deserted place.

          He’ll call me and say, “Hey, Jem….”

          And I’ll answer, “Hey, Jonn…” and we’re off and running about the dogs that won’t hunt and the crazy aunts and stuff no one else understands.

          Jack and Sherry will be there—our friends who we met when we lived in New Haven. They are southerners—Virginia and South Carolina. They usually bring a country ham and dandelion risotto for Easter dinner. But they’ll be getting back from a trip to Italy and Greece and won’t have time to cook this year.

          I know John and Jack and Sherry as well as I know myself. We rub against each other in ways that make life make sense.

          And Mimi will be there. My ‘princess’, my love, my precious girl. She is nearing 30 but she is still my baby girl. An hour with Mimi is like an eternity in heaven for me. I love her so. She is so wondrous—did you know she has become a girl scout leader in Brooklyn for young girls from the projects? She raises money for the American Ballet Theater for a living, but she embraces young girls who need a mentor to make her life meaningful. She is so precious to me I can hardly speak of her without weeping. And she will be at the table.

          This year, we will have ‘family’. Uncle Frankie and his son, Anthony—Bern’s favorite cousin, and his daughter Francis and her life-partner Lisa will be at the table. They hale from West Virginia but all live in Rhode Island now. They will be there, bringing memories and stories that would otherwise not be there.

          And that is what the meal is about, after all, the telling of stories to help us ‘remember’ and to give us hope to go on. And we will eat the ham and the onion pie and the deviled eggs and the salad and the scalloped potatoes and tell the stories and be present—so remarkably present—to what is alive and real and wondrous, even in the sad stories of Aunt Annie’s death and the fact that Josh and Cathy and our granddaughters, Morgan and Emma are in Taiwan this Easter and not with us. They will gather around other tables—not to celebrate the resurrection because they are either Buddhists or nothing at all—but they will gather around a table to eat and tell stories and love each other and be present—so present—to the heart of God.

          That’s what this night is about. How being around a table, sharing food, telling stories, loving each other, hoping for the future, wondering what happens next….

          That’s what this night’s about. A table set and full of food. Family and friends gathered. Passing the bread, sharing the wine….wondering what will happen next.

          Because Jesus sat around that table so long ago and shared his body and his blood with those he loved and those he would never know.

          Just sitting at a table, eating with those you love, is a holy thing. A holy thing. A holy thing.  Remember that always. Remember that. Remember…  

Holy Wednesday

Read John 13.20-32 (the lectionary says 13.21-32 but it makes more sense to read v. 20 too.)

We're at the table at the Last Supper. The foot washing has happened (we'll read that tomorrow) and Jesus is talking about 'receiving the one he sends' and how that means receiving him and the one who sent him.

This is the beginning of 'the church' as we know it today. Countless generations have been sent and received down to us. And now, we are the church. We are 'the Body of Christ' in this world. We represent the one who 'sent' Jesus--God. Pretty heavy stuff and hard to get your head around--but 'true' never the less. We are the hands and feet and minds and voice of Christ. We are those 'sent' by God.

That is 'the church'. It just is.

But what is happening beyond the 'church' being formed, is the betrayal of Jesus.

He was 'troubled in spirit' and told those around the table that one of them would betray him.

At Peter's urging, 'the disciple who Jesus loved'--John, we think--asked "who is it?"

Then Judas is revealed as the betrayer by Jesus' gift of bread dipped in oil.

Judas leaves to do just that, but Jesus is not distressed. Instead, he says, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified."

It seems a strange response to betrayal!

But the betrayal was necessary so that Jesus might go to the cross and die for all of us and our sin.

In the Gnostic Gospels, there is a Gospel of Judas. In that story that not everyone has read, Jesus convinces Judas that he must betray him so that salvation might be available to all.

Judas agrees, but kills himself out of guilt.

Today let us pray for all who have betrayed us--individuals and institutions. And grant forgiveness.

Today let us pray for all we have betrayed in our lives. And ask forgiveness.

Today let us pray for those who have been betrayed by poverty, racism, disease and death.

And pray always, during this most holy week, for those in this crisis who are risking themselves to help up--hospital workers, police, fire departments, grocery workers, service station workers...all of those brave and gracious people who will not 'betray' but 'save'.