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Good Friday Isaiah 52:13-53:12 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Gospel according to John 18:1-19:37 After Jesus had spoken these words, he went out with his disciples across the Kidron valley to a place where there was a garden, which he and his disciples entered. Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew the place, because Jesus often met there with his disciples. So Judas brought a detachment of soldiers together with police from the chief priests and the Pharisees, and they came there with lanterns and torches and weapons. Then Jesus, knowing all that was to happen to him, came forward and asked them, ‘Whom are you looking for?’ They answered, ‘Jesus of Nazareth.’ Jesus replied, ‘I am he.’ Judas, who betrayed him, was standing with them. When Jesus said to them, ‘I am he,’ they stepped back and fell to the ground. Again he asked them, ‘Whom are you looking for?’ And they said, ‘Jesus of Nazareth.’ Jesus answered, ‘I told you that I am he. So if you are looking for me, let these men go.’ This was to fulfill the word that he had spoken, ‘I did not lose a single one of those whom you gave me.’ Then Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it, struck the high priest’s slave, and cut off his right ear. The slave’s name was Malchus. Jesus said to Peter, ‘Put your sword back into its sheath. Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?’ So the soldiers, their officer, and the Jewish police arrested Jesus and bound him. First they took him to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Jews that it was better to have one person die for the people. Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, but Peter was standing outside at the gate. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the woman who guarded the gate, and brought Peter in. The woman said to Peter, ‘You are not also one of this man’s disciples, are you?’ He said, ‘I am not.’ Now the slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire because it was cold, and they were standing around it and warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself. Then the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching. Jesus answered, ‘I have spoken openly to the world; I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them; they know what I said.’ When he had said this, one of the police standing nearby struck Jesus on the face, saying, ‘Is that how you answer the high priest?’ Jesus answered, ‘If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong. But if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?’ Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest. Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, ‘You are not also one of his disciples, are you?’ He denied it and said, ‘I am not.’ One of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, ‘Did I not see you in the garden with him?’ Again Peter denied it, and at that moment the cock crowed. Then they took Jesus from Caiaphas to Pilate’s headquarters. It was early in the morning. They themselves did not enter the headquarters, so as to avoid ritual defilement and to be able to eat the Passover. So Pilate went out to them and said, ‘What accusation do you bring against this man?’ They answered, ‘If this man were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you.’ Pilate said to them, ‘Take him yourselves and judge him according to your law.’ The Jews replied, ‘We are not permitted to put anyone to death.’ (This was to fulfill what Jesus had said when he indicated the kind of death he was to die.) Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ Pilate asked him, ‘What is truth?’ After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again and told them, ‘I find no case against him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?’ They shouted in reply, ‘Not this man, but Barabbas!’ Now Barabbas was a bandit. Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. And the soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they dressed him in a purple robe. They kept coming up to him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ and striking him on the face. Pilate went out again and said to them, ‘Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no case against him.’ So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, ‘Here is the man!’ When the chief priests and the police saw him, they shouted, ‘Crucify him! Crucify him!’ Pilate said to them, ‘Take him yourselves and crucify him; I find no case against him.’ The Jews answered him, ‘We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has claimed to be the Son of God.’ Now when Pilate heard this, he was more afraid than ever. He entered his headquarters again and asked Jesus, ‘Where are you from?’ But Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate therefore said to him, ‘Do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him, ‘You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above; therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.’ From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the Jews cried out, ‘If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.’ When Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus outside and sat on the judge’s bench at a place called The Stone Pavement, or in Hebrew Gabbatha. Now it was the day of Preparation for the Passover; and it was about noon. He said to the Jews, ‘Here is your King!’ They cried out, ‘Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!’ Pilate asked them, ‘Shall I crucify your King?’ The chief priests answered, ‘We have no king but the emperor.’ Then he handed him over to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them. Pilate also had an inscription written and put on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ Many of the Jews read this inscription, because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, in Latin, and in Greek. Then the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but, “This man said, I am King of the Jews.”’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written I have written.’ When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four parts, one for each soldier. They also took his tunic; now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. So they said to one another, ‘Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see who will get it.’ This was to fulfill what the scripture says, ‘They divided my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.’ And that is what the soldiers did. Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home. After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), ‘I am thirsty.’ A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the wine, he said, ‘It is finished.’ Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. Since it was the day of Preparation, the Jews did not want the bodies left on the cross during the sabbath, especially because that sabbath was a day of great solemnity. So they asked Pilate to have the legs of the crucified men broken and the bodies removed. Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who had been crucified with him. But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. Instead, one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once blood and water came out. (He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe. His testimony is true, and he knows that he tells the truth.) These things occurred so that the scripture might be fulfilled, ‘None of his bones shall be broken.’ And again another passage of scripture says, ‘They will look on the one whom they have pierced.’ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In a few minutes, after we have observed some silence, we will sing the hymn, "Ah, holy Jesus." I love it. It’s beautiful and mournful and certainly appropriate for this hard day. I love it. And I hate it. I just hate it. Because it speaks a truth that I hate, and that I go to some lengths to resist. You see, I much prefer to go through life thinking that I’m a pretty good guy. I mean, I know I mess up (hey, everybody messes up), and I even know that I hurt people, but, you know, my intentions are good. I try to be nice and to do the right thing, and, after all, that’s what really counts, isn’t it? What our intentions are? There are other times when what appear to be my shortcomings are actually the fault of other people. Like when someone has been mean or said something cutting, and, yes, I’ve reacted defensively, firing the arrows of insult or humor intended to belittle, or logic that picks them to pieces, but they started it, didn’t they? And I suppose there are times when I’ve started it, but I wouldn’t have started it unless they were asking for it. Maybe I lost my temper. Or maybe I was visibly impatient, but I wouldn’t have done that or felt that I did if they hadn’t provoked me. So, I’m a pretty good guy. I know my relationships with other people aren’t perfect, but whose are? I’m only human. And I try to follow Jesus’ teachings and the teachings in the Bible. If I’m honest, I have to admit that sometimes I put my trust in money more than God, but I do give to the church, and, in fact, we give more than most. So I don’t think that’s a problem. And I do find myself labeling people occasionally, some people do that by race or orientation, or nationality, but my challenge is when it comes to people I don’t think are being very responsible for their lives: welfare recipients, and homeless people, addicts who are still using, and people who aren’t trying to use their gifts to make a life for themselves but invariably want help from me. I can dehumanize those folks pretty quickly, just label them and not really, in my heart of hearts, think of them as a human being I should love. But, hey, everybody has their issues, and if those folks would make something of themselves, I wouldn’t dehumanize them. Besides, I’m only human. I’ll admit that I have some trouble, well, a lot of trouble actually, with Jesus’ teaching about not returning evil for evil, violence for violence. It’s just too hard and dangerous to practice that with dangerous people. I’m not even really very good at it with people I know aren’t really dangerous, but who just hurt me. I’ve already admitted that I sometimes return insult for insult. But it’s really tough to try to even imagine how that teaching could apply with respect to dangerous people. I suspect that by the time we’ve been attacked, either by crime or by terrorists, it’s too late to even try. But even though I know we should be following Jesus’ teaching long before things have heated up to the point of attack, I don’t often know how to do that. And, after all, I’m only one person, I can’t make much change. Besides, I’m only human. And I try to maintain a good relationship with God. I’ll admit, I don’t pray as much as I should. And, yes, I’ll admit, sometimes when I pray, it’s more like a recitation of things I want to happen or don’t want to happen than it is a response of gratitude to God’s loving presence in my life. But most everybody prays like that, at least a lot of the time. We’re only human. And I’ll admit that I have a hard time dedicating my whole life to God. I do keep stumbling on things that I’m holding back. But we all do that, don’t we. After all, we’re only human. Okay, that’s enough. I could go on. And on. And on, with the ways we human beings hem and haw and rationalize and explain away all the ways we fall short of truly loving each other and God. When you line them all up, the list sounds rather adolescent. Imagine how tired God must be of hearing all our excuses:
Jesus came as a human being to show us what God created humanity to be. We dishonor that gift when we use our humanity as an excuse. And on Good Friday, when we hear the whip slashing through the air, when we hear the sound of the hammer driving the nails through tissue, we need to reflect on how far, far, short we fall of how God created us to be. And all our excuses are just, if you’ll pardon the expression, crap. Every one of us could do better. Every one of us could do better in lots and lots of ways. And we just don’t. So, I love "Ah, holy Jesus," and I hate it. I love it because it’s beautiful and mournful and certainly appropriate for this hard day. But I hate it because it makes me look at a truth that cuts through all my rationalizing and excuse-making and whining. It doesn’t let me do what we all so much want to do: avert my eyes, look elsewhere, and avoid blame. Listen to what it says: "Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee? Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee. ’Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee; I crucified thee." No scapegoats. No pointing the finger elsewhere. No excuses. We are exposed. "I crucified thee." I, still, crucify thee. To reflect on ourselves this way, to be this exposed, is really too hard for us to bear for very long. That is the reason God clothed Adam and Eve after their rebellion in the garden. We just can’t take being this exposed, reflecting on how we hurt God. It is just too horrible, too monstrous, too terrible to bear. But before we run for cover under our umbrella excuse of "I’m only human," on this day, on this terrible day of whips and thorns, and nails, let us have the courage to stand for just a little while in our excruciating nakedness before God. The point, I hope you realize, is not sadistic. The point is that we may know why we need God, why we really, after all our excuses are done, need God. And so, my brothers and sisters, my prayer for you and for me is that this may be for us an excruciating, appalling, dreadful day, so that, standing naked and ashamed before God on this terrible Good Friday, we may truly be prepared for how profound a gift Sunday will bring. The Very Rev. James H. Pritchett, Jr. St. John’s Episcopal Church, College Park, GA
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