A Different Good Friday

This year's Good Friday was very different than the Good Fridays of recent years. In Sweden, Good Friday is a public holiday so most are off work. This enabled us to hold our worship service at 15.00. People appreciated that. And for us, the entire day was geared toward the Good Friday worship service which helped us to focus more clearly on the significance of the day. Maybe that's why today felt like Saturday most of the day. It was such a "normal" day. We knew we were going to go to a church service tonight, but the rest of the day was just business as usual. We took Tanner for a long walk and ran errands. It was a good day in which we accomplished many things and yet...I found myself thinking of the Good Friday service at Immanuel and wondering how it was unfolding. I was missing being part of it. We often did something creative on Good Friday and we found it meaningful to do so. We heard from some folks that it was a good day...powerful choir, great readings, good message, good crowd. My heart longed to be there. 

So tonight we left for a service in Palm Springs that had been advertised as a Tenebrae service, which is what I wanted for Good Friday. The word Tenebrae means shadows in Latin. A traditional service takes you through the events of the crucifixion with the light in the worship center progressively growing darker and darker until at the moment of Christ's death, the congregation sits in total darkness, mimicking what happened on Calvary when Christ was crucified. The service ends abruptly, unfinished in a sense. While some of Christ's last words from the cross are, "It is Finished" we know that Christ's story doesn't end on the cross. But Good Friday is intended to help us live with Christ's death for just a bit and not rush to finish the story in a rush. 

Well, tonight's service was a disappointment. The Presbyterian church we attended was scantily attended and the readings were all together too short. The hymn choices were good and I was grateful for that, but someone sang How Great Thou Art as a solo and that seemed utterly inappropriate and the final reading was from John 1, how the light of Christ shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it, which is a hopeful and necessary message, but not for Good Friday. It's OK to leave us hanging one day a year. It's OK to mention that it was our sins and our transgressions that led to the events of Good Friday. We weren't sorry we went but we were a little sorry that it was such an unfulfilling worship service. 

And so again, my mind wandered to Immanuel where we had shared in so many meaningful worship services. 

My point is not to judge. We were glad to join with others in walking through the passion, however abbreviated it was. At least it did finally end in total darkness. But I would've enjoyed a bit more substance.

And so I came home and read the sermon that I had written last year. I remember extinguishing the black candles and the solitary red rose on the altar. And so today, as Good Friday is coming to a close, I offer my thoughts from last year, to myself perhaps, but to others still needing to connect with the events of Good Friday as we now wait for a glorious Easter to emerge. But let's just sit tight for a little while longer with the betrayal, denial, and death of Christ. Let's sit at the foot of the cross and understand who we are in that place. 

Good Friday: 2014

     We have gathered here at the foot of the cross today because we know that we stand in need of a savior. We are here today because we are seeking a love that is unconditional, compassionate, forgiving and redeeming and we know that we can only find that at the foot of the cross.

     There are several others who stood at the foot of the cross. One was a betrayer. Are you a betrayer? It was Judas who worried about the money.  It was Judas who thought the woman who washed the feet of Jesus foot with expensive perfume was extravagant and wasteful. It was Judas whose kiss could be bought. To think that an act of affection could be turned into such an act of treachery is appalling, until I consider the ways that I do the same. I want to follow Jesus and yet I want to follow my own way. I want the sacrifice that Jesus has given to me and yet I don’t want to make sacrifices in my own life.  The fear that lurks in my soul today is this: if given the chance for selfish gain through the betrayal of my Lord, would I say yes or no?  And so that is why I am here at the cross.  Because on the very night that Jesus was betrayed, he took the bread and the cup, gave thanks and shared it with those closest to him.  He gave them a glimpse of how his brokenness will heal ours, how the shedding of his blood will shed our shame and wash us in grace.  Yes, I am here at the foot of the cross today because I need his brokenness to heal mine.

     Another standing at that cross was a denier. It was Peter who followed Jesus with almost reckless abandon. Eager to be on the front lines, Peter was appalled when Jesus predicted that he would deny him. Peter believed with all his heart that such an act of treachery was impossible, beyond his ability. And yet, later, that same day, Peter does deny Christ.  Of course, he’s not the only one, but his is memorable.  I can certainly find myself in this narrative as well.  In my core I want to be a zealous, committed, follower of Christ.  I want to stand out from the crowd with my enthusiasm for our Lord.  And yet, when that causes others to be uncomfortable with me, when they push away because they find it so odd that I would choose Jesus, when they challenge my faith choice, well, then I find that standing alone for Christ becomes quite isolating. And I choose to tone it down a bit to fit the circumstances.  I am tempted to want to fit in more than I want to profess Christ.  I want to go with the way of the world instead of following the way of Christ because at times I don’t want to be counter-cultural, at times I want to be swept into a crowd who praises me and honors me and lifts me up. Sometimes it’s hard to relinquish my place of honor for the place of honor that Christ deserves and so I deny him his place as Lord of my live and instead allow the world to carry me on their shoulders.  Yes, Christ’s darkest hour revealed Peter’s darkest side and in most human instances that darkness would’ve hovered forever between them.  But we know that that later Jesus restores Peter and even asks him to try again.  He invites him to feed his sheep and to share the good news of who Jesus is with others.  Yes, Jesus assures Peter of his deep and abiding love for him by asking him to love him once again.  I too need to hear that Jesus loves me and to affirm that I love him and to be restored to a place where I can be empowered for ministry as well.  And I know it takes Christ hanging on a cross in order for me to receive those gifts. So I am here at the cross today because I am in need of a second chance.      

     We know there were accusers present at the cross, those who only see the way in which Jesus broke tradition instead of realizing that he was ushering in a whole new way of being faithful. Maybe some of us are same, seeking to keep rituals more than living out the gospel? Carefully following the rules but severely missing the heart of the gospel? Jesus’ accusers reveal how far away they are from understanding the gospel of grace.  They are trapped in a system where simply performing the ritual becomes much more important than honoring the core value of the rituals.  We see in John’s gospel that when Jesus was first taken to Caiaphas’s house, the accusers did not want to follow him into the Roman courtyard, for this would’ve defiled them and they would’ve been unable to celebrate the Passover.  As if this is the only thing in their lives that is defiling them!  I can’t get over how concerned they are with the ritual of “remaining clean” while clearly handing an innocent man over to be killed for crimes that he has not committed.  Makes me wonder where in my own life I am keeping rituals instead of following Jesus with love in my heart.  Am I reading scripture yet not allowing it to shape me?  Are my prayers simply uttered out of obligation so that I will feel better instead of truly believing that Jesus hears my prayers and longs to answer them?  Am I attending church, worshiping God, going through all of the right motions, yet privately shunning Jesus in my day to day life?  Is my own righteousness rooted in following the letter of the law rather than allowing a spirit of grace to motivate and guide me? Because the accusers cannot defend their actions, they instead weave their own story about why they are there.  When asked what charge they are bringing against Jesus, they simply scream that he is guilty, as if it becomes truer if they shout it louder.  When asked to take responsibility for their actions, unable to get the death warrant on their own, the people demand that the governor give them what they want just because they want it, not because it has any basis in justice or righteousness or truth.  We watch as Christ’s innocence is twisted into guilt.  Here I feel anguish as I see myself in this story.  God asks me questions about my own life and I deflect them with answers about others.  God asks me to take responsibility for actions, to justify my demands, but I find myself wanting others to do my dirty work for the outcomes that I desire, however sinister or selfish they may be.  My business is often so rooted in this world, yet Jesus reminds us His kingdom is not of this world, and that he was born and came into the world to testify to the truth. All who love the truth recognize that what he says is true. But sadly, sometimes we don't love the truth. And that is why at the cross today I am in need of the truth.  I need to be reminded that Jesus’ kingdom is not of the world, but is about wholly different things.  I need to encounter the truth and have the falsehood in my life washed away.  I am here at the cross today because while the accusers took Christ’s innocence and twisted it into guilt, what I need is for my guilt to be transformed into innocence.

     I am here at the cross today because I stand in need of a savior.  I know this because as we read about how Pilate had Christ beaten and sentenced to be crucified, the deep places within my heart where I know I’ve been the one to sentence Jesus, stir.  Are you the one who has sentenced Christ to death on a cross?  

     We all are.  Yes, we flinch when we read about the flogging.  Of course, we hate the pain and the torture that Jesus experienced.  We know his death is unjust.  We know that those who sentenced him knew that he was innocent and yet when offered a well-known criminal, Barabbas, the crowd still wanted Jesus to be the one killed.  

     Yes Herod, yes Pilate, you are both right.  Jesus is innocent and does not deserve die. You are guilty, we are guilty and we are the ones who deserve to die and yet we cannot face that possibility.  So we ask Jesus to do it for us.  And Jesus, all the while knowing that we will die if he does not, chooses to not fight back but instead subjects himself to the worst kind of death.  And Pilate and Herod and all who have gathered to make these accusations against Jesus must now realize that it is Jesus, the innocent man, who stands in for Barabbas and it is Jesus who stands in for all of the guilty ones who surround him with their lies and their deception and their conniving.  It is Jesus who pays the price for all of the sin that abounds. And so in the midst of these rabid cries to crucify Jesus, we see how desperate our need really is.  For Jesus, who is sinless, takes on our lies and our deception and our conniving and nails it to the cross so that we will never have to face the sentence that he has endured on our behalf.  I am here at the cross today because I too am Barabbas.  I know that I am saying crucify him instead of me. I know I am guilty but I can't face the punishment. Set me free Jesus. Die for me.

     I am standing at the foot of the cross with my sins exposed.  Is that why you are too are here?

     And as they pound the nails into his hands and feet, through his pain and anguish, Jesus pleads with his father to forgive us.  He takes on our ignorance and excuses our inability to understand what is happening.  And still, the crowd responds with scoffing even as Jesus now hangs on the cross.  Little do they know that their taunts and questions about his being the Messiah, their King have deep truth embedded within. They do not grasp that while they ask him to prove himself to be God by coming down off the cross, it is only through his staying on the cross that we will see that he truly is the Son of the God. One of the sinners has realized this…his confession from his own cross reveals the depths of Christ’s compassion…the criminal asks to be saved and Jesus assures him that that very day, he shall be with him in paradise.  And we too are that criminal hanging next to Jesus crying out to be saved. And no matter the kind of cross we feel we are bearing, no matter the places in our lives we where we feel there is no way out, no matter the places where we feel that only death and destruction that await us, we are invited to turn to Jesus and ask that he save us and be granted the promise of a life in paradise with him.  That is why there can be a quiet joy at being a sinner at the cross. Jesus knows that it is finished.  Jesus knows that he must entrust his spirit into the Father’s hands.  He knows that it is time for him to die. His death comes, the darkness covers, the mourning begins. And in the sadness of that dark moment, we hear a soldier finally willing to offer the truth, this man surely was the Son of God.       

     Yes, we too are sinners at the foot of the cross who, with limited understanding, embrace the reality that the death of Christ leads to everlasting life.  Yes, we are more sinful than we dare believe; and yet also more loved than we dare hope. 

     I am a betrayer and a denier. I am an accuser and yet, remarkably, also a believer. I do confess that Jesus truly is the son of God and therefore can embrace him as my Savior and that is why it is good to be gathered at the foot of the cross today.  Perhaps you too are a betrayer, a denier, and an accuser, but in spite of that, all that matters is if you one of the believers.  So if you are here today in need of a savior as well, then believe that Christ has died for your sins and wants you to live as one who joins him in paradise. Know the beauty and the truth about Christ today, here, at the foot of the cross upon which Christ died. Thanks be to God that through the power of Christ's death on the cross, it is we, who find life. Amen.

Easter Retrospective

We had a wonderful Easter weekend.  We have some nice traditions that we have come to greatly appreciate.  On Thursday night we go to a Pakistani family's home for dinner and communion.

Our hosts for the Thursday dinner.

The food is amazing.  No leavened bread, some dishes emulate the passover, other reflect their culture.

Our hostess making unleavened chapatis

I made deviled eggs with horseradish as a nod to ingredients used in preparing the passover meal.  Doug gave a simple yet profound explanation of what the last supper might've been like.  As stunning as his painting was, da Vinci did not get the setting or the seating right!  Then we shared in communion together as a family of faith.  It is a great night together.
On Good Friday we used 6 readers to tell the story of Christ's passion.  The setting is austere.  The lighting dims as the story progresses.  Candles are snuffed out.  We end in darkness.  It is powerful.
Saturday is a day of rest of preparation. We went out for brunch and took a long walk with Tanner.  The sun was out but the temperatures were chilly.
Easter Sunday arrives with joy as the sanctuary bursts forth with light and color.  We joyfully sing Christ the Lord is Risen Today and welcome the news that Jesus Christ has risen from the dead.  We embrace the hope that is ours because death has been defeated.  It gives us strength to live as Easter people even when the hardship of Good Friday bears down on us.
We celebrated the day with close friends who we have come to treasure as family on these wonderful holidays.  A roast lamb dinner followed by a pavlova that I had made filled our tummies to overflowing!  Given that half the family is Swiss, we also had enough chocolate to sink a ship!
It was indeed the joyful feast of the people of God in so many different ways.

Good Friday

We shared Good Friday with our congregation through the use of a dramatic reading that six different people participated in.  The Passion narrative speaks for itself so we simply allowed the scriptures to tell the story of Jesus' death.  The readers brought their own voice and accent to the scene.  Again, it was incredible to have people from these nations reading Christ's passion in dramatic fashion: India, Sweden, Zimbabwe, Switzerland, Great Britain, and Malawi.
This is a somber service, with minimal decoration.  A dark cloth and black candles along with a single red rose dot the altar and the candles are extinguished one by one as we grow closer to Christ's death.  The music is reflective and quiet.  The sanctuary grows dim as we move towards the crucifixion.  The service ends in total darkness with only this slide on the walls.  We allow the silence to hang in the air, feeling the deep impact of death.  Jesus does indeed rise again from the dead, but it's also good to know that he died a horrible death on our behalf.  And so we sit with darkness and with death and in silence.  Some tears are shed.  We depart in silence.  It is the one day all year that no fellowship time is offered after the service.  It leaves you hungry to return to on Easter Sunday, eager for the good news that death has been defeated.
We had some close friends over for dinner after the service.  The one family that was with us are among the very first friends we made after we moved to Sweden.  The kids were little then and now they are grown women.  Expressions of how much the church has meant to all of us were shared around the table.  We recalled meeting one another for the first time and feel so grateful that Immanuel International brings people together from around the world to share our common faith and rejoice in the gift of friendship.  Even the snow on Good Friday could not destroy the warmth that we shared around the table! 
Much good food was shared including this pavlova for dessert.  When the dishes were cleared and the guests had left, a beautiful glow lingered in the dining room.  The joy of salvation and the warmth of friendship were celebrated on this very Good Friday.

From Good Friday to Easter Sunday

Good Friday is the one service all year that we have no fellowship time afterwards.  The sanctuary is dark, the music in a minor key, the candles black, the flowers sparse.  It is time to go deep into your soul, see your sin and be glad that Jesus died for it.  Then we wait.  We wait all day Saturday for Easter morning to break and we enter the same place of worship where we were on Friday and yet the color is back, signs of life abound in freshly cut flowers, even the daffodils sing their song of praise to the Risen Lord. 

Doug preached and I was responsible for the kids time and the prayer for the day.  The kids time was great fun.  I took an egg, with the insides blown out (almost needed medical assistance by the time I finished!) and then proceeded to explain to the children that I didn't understand why eggs were such a big part of Easter.  After all, they had nothing to do with the surprise his friends encountered when they found the tomb that Jesus had been laid in was empty.  I said that I was so mad about eggs getting so much attention that I just want to smash it to pieces...and then I cracked it on Doug's head!  The gasp was loud!  Then the delighted laughter when they discovered that it was empty!  I excitedly shared that this egg really did have something to do with Easter...it's empty, just like the tomb!  It was great fun and they were all delighted and surprised.  I was surprised!

Here is my prayer for the day:

Lord Jesus,

     You are the resurrection and the life, all who believe in you will never die.  Today is a day of victory and celebration because you have conquered the power of death.  As the people of God we have come together to celebrate your victory over death, which ensures that our future will be filled with hope and joy.  Our earthly lives know all too well the sting of death, but today dear Jesus, you have diminished that sting by overcoming death itself and we are here today as thankful and joy-filled people. 

     Lord, today we rejoice in the reality that the empty places in our lives are now filled because of the emptiness of the tomb.  Your living, your dying, and your rising again hold the promise for us of a life worth living, not because of anything that we’ve done, but totally and utterly because you have lived and died and risen again.

     And so we ask that you fill us with your love, that we might love others with a love that transcends reason.  Fill us with your grace that we might offer grace to another who is desperately in need of forgiveness and renewal.  Fill us with your joy that others might be drawn to you and find that even when life is challenging, you are there for them, waiting to embrace them and journey beside them through life’s most difficult valleys.

     Lord, we know that for many today those difficult valleys include the sting of loss from the death of a loved one.  We remember today those who have lost loved ones in the past year and ask that you provide relief and comfort to them as they grieve and adjust to life without their dear ones here with them on earth.  May the hope that is ours through Christ overcome their sorrow and ease the sting that death brings to our lives. 

     Lord, we pray for those for whom today is anything but hopeful.  Whether it be an unclear future, or waiting on news that they have permission to stay here in Sweden, be it the longing for family from whom they are separated, the financial strain that crushes them, or the concern that their children are struggling, or other significant relationships are breaking…Lord, whatever it is that is pulling hope out of people’s lives and filling it with despair, minister to them this day.  Surround them with the same loving presence that you assured Mary with at the graveside, that her sorrow will be turned to joy, that her anguish will end.      

     Loving God, it is such a joy and privilege to come and celebrate your resurrection, yet Lord, too, our deepest desire is that we live as Easter people every day of our lives.  May we know the power of your presence.  May we embody the grace that you so generously offer to us.  May we live as a hopeful people knowing that you have overcome all things and are actively making all things new. 

     Today we say hallelujah, for Christ is no longer dead.  The tomb is empty.  Help us Lord to share this good news with others that they too may experience the victory and joy that we do.  We pray these things in the name of our Risen Lord and Savior, the one who has conquered the grave, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

It's my prayer for today too, to live as an Easter person all the time.

We had a wonderful Easter, truly.  The second service was standing room only with people grabbing chairs from the cafe and sitting in the hallway! After the services were over, the choir was invited to take some flowers.  They loved mugging for the camera! 

It's been a good Lenten season for me.  I'm happy to be in Eastertide however.  It feels lighter...thanks to Jesus who shares my burden and makes my yoke easier.

Are You There At the Foot of the Cross?

I am here at the foot of the cross today.  I am here at the cross today because I know that I stand in need of a savior.  I am here at the cross today because I am seeking a love that is unconditional, compassionate, forgiving and redeeming.  I am here at the cross today because it is the only place where I will find such things.  Is that why you are here at the cross today?

     I am here at the cross today because I stand in need of a savior.  I know this because as we read about Judas the betrayer the deep places within my heart where I know I’ve been the betrayer, stir.  Are you a betrayer?  Do you follow Jesus with a skeptic caution, wanting to be in his inner circle yet still wondering what you can get out it?  It was Judas who worried about the money.  It as Judas who thought Mary’s foot washing of Jesus with expensive perfume was extravagant and wasteful.  It was Judas whose kiss could be bought.  To think that an act of affection could be turned into such an act of treachery is appalling, until I consider the ways that I do the same.  I want to follow Jesus and yet I want to follow my own way.  I want the sacrifice that Jesus has given to me and yet I don’t want to make sacrifices in my own life.  The fear that lurks in my soul today is this: if given the chance for selfish gain through the betrayal of my Lord, I am not confident that I would say no.  And so that is why I am here at the cross.  Because on the very night that Jesus was betrayed, he took the bread and the cup, gave thanks and shared it with those closest to him.  He gave them a glimpse of how his brokenness will heal ours, how the shedding of his blood will shed our shame and wash us in grace.  Yes, I am here at the cross today because I need his brokenness to heal mine.

     I am here at the cross today because I stand in need of a savior.  I know this because as we read about Peter’s denial, the deep places within my heart where I know I’ve been the denier, stir.  Are you a denier?  Peter followed Jesus with almost reckless abandon.  Eager to be on the front lines, Peter defied Jesus when Jesus predicted that he would deny him.  Peter felt that such an act of treachery was impossible, beyond his ability.  Peter believed with all his heart that he could never do such a thing.  And yet, later that same day, Peter does deny Christ.  Of course, he’s not the only one, but his is memorable.  I can certainly find myself in this narrative as well.  In my core I want to be a zealous, committed, follower of Christ.  I want to stand out from the crowd with my enthusiasm for our Lord.  And yet, when that causes others to be uncomfortable with me, when they push away because they find it so odd that one would choose Jesus, when they challenge my faith choice, well, then I find that standing alone for Christ becomes quite isolating.  And I choose to tone it down a bit to fit the circumstances.  I am tempted to want to fit in more than I want to profess Christ.  I want to go with the way of the world instead of following the way of Christ because at times I don’t want to be counter-cultural, at times I want to be swept into a crowd who praises me and honors me and lifts me up.  Sometimes it’s hard to relinquish my place of honor for the place of honor that Christ deserves and so I deny him his place as Lord of my live and instead allow the world to carry me on their shoulders.  Yes, Christ’s darkest hour revealed Peter’s darkest side and in most human instances that darkness would’ve hovered forever between them.  But we know that that later Jesus restores Peter and even asks him to try again.  He invites him to feed his sheep and to share the good news of who Jesus is with others.  Yes, Jesus assures Peter of his deep and abiding love for him by asking him to love him once again.  I too need to hear that Jesus loves me and to affirm that I love him and to be restored to a place where I can be empowered for ministry as well.  I am here at the cross today because I am in need of a second chance.      

     I am here at the cross today because I stand in need of a savior.  I know this because as we read about Jesus’ accusers the deep places within my heart where I know I’ve been the accuser stir.  Are you an accuser?  Is keeping rituals more important to you than pursuing the truth?  Are you carefully following the rules while missing the heart of the gospel?  Jesus’ accusers reveal how far away they are from understanding the gospel of grace.  They are trapped in a system where simply performing the ritual becomes much more important than honoring the core value of the rituals.  We see in John’s gospel that when Jesus was first taken to Caiaphas’ house, the accusers did not want to follow him into the Roman courtyard, for this would’ve defiled them and they would’ve been unable to celebrate the Passover.  As if this is the only thing in their lives that is defiling them!  I can’t get over how concerned they are with the ritual of “remaining clean” while clearly handing an innocent man over to be killed for crimes that he has not committed.  Makes me wonder where in my own life I am keeping rituals instead of following Jesus with love in my heart.  Am I reading scripture yet not allowing it to shape me?  Are my prayers simply uttered out of obligation so that I will feel better instead of truly believing that Jesus hears my prayers and longs to answer them?  Am I attending church, worshiping God, going through all of the right motions, yet privately shunning Jesus in my day to day life?  Is my own righteousness rooted in following the letter of the law rather than allowing a spirit of grace to motivate and guide me?  Another compelling detail of the narrative is this: The accusers cannot answer the questions set forth by Caiaphas.  Instead they weave their own story about why they are there.  When asked what charge they are bringing against Jesus, they simply scream that he is guilty, as if it becomes truer if they shout it louder.  When asked to take responsibility for their actions, unable to get the death warrant on their own, the people demand that the governor give them what they want just because they want it, not because it has any basis in justice or righteousness or truth.  We watch as Christ’s innocence is twisted into guilt.  Here I feel anguish as I see myself in this story.  God asks me questions about my own life and I deflect them with answers about others.  God asks me to take responsibility for actions, to justify my demands, but I find myself wanting others to do my dirty work for the  outcomes that I desire, however sinister or selfish they may be.  My business is often so rooted in this world, yet Jesus reminds us His kingdom is not of this world, and that he was born and came into the world to testify to the truth. All who love the truth recognize that what he says is true.

     I am here at the cross today because I am in need of the truth.  I need to be reminded that Jesus’ kingdom is not of the world, but is about wholly different things.  I need to encounter the truth and have the falsehood in my life washed away.  I am here at the cross today because while the accusers took Christ’s innocence and twisted it into guilt, what I need is for my guilt to be transformed into innocence.

     I am here at the cross today because I stand in need of a savior.  I know this because as we read about how Pilate had Christ beaten and sentenced to be crucified, the deep places within my heart where I know I’ve been the one to sentence Jesus, stir.  Are you the one who has sentenced Christ to death on a cross? 

     We all are.  Yes, we flinch when we read about the flogging.  Of course, we hate the pain and the torture that Jesus experienced.  We know his death is unjust.  We know that those who sentenced him knew that he was innocent and yet when offered a well-known criminal, Barabbas, the crowd still wanted Jesus to be the one killed.  Yes Herod, yes Pilate, you are both right.  Jesus is innocent and does not deserve die.  You are guilty, we are guilty and we are the ones who deserve to die and yet we cannot face that possibility.  So we ask Jesus to do it for us.  And Jesus, all the while knowing that we will die if he does not, chooses to not fight back but instead subjects himself to the worst kind of death.  And Pilate and Herod and all who have gathered to make these accusations against Jesus must now realize that it is Jesus, the innocent man, who stands in for Barabbas and it is Jesus who stands in for all of the guilty ones who  surround him with their lies and their deception and their conniving.  It is Jesus who pays the price for all of the sin that abounds.

     It’s hard to come into this part of the narrative.  It is perhaps against the backdrop of the cries of crucify him that we see how desperate our need really is.  For Jesus, who is sinless, takes on our lies and our deception and our conniving and nails it to the cross so that we ourselves will never have to face the sentence that he has endured on our behalf.  I am here at the cross today because I too am Barabbas.  I am here to face the guilt of my own sin but also to embrace the gift of being set free from my punishment because Christ has paid my sentence for me.

     I am here at the cross today because I stand in need of a savior.  I know this because as we read about the death of Jesus I am standing at the foot of the cross with my sins exposed.  Are you one of the sinners?  Remarkably, Jesus pleads with father to forgive us even as they pound the nails into his hands and feet.  He takes on our ignorance and excuses our inability to understand what is happening.  And the crowd responds with scoffing even as Jesus now hangs on the cross.  Little do they know that their taunts and questions about his being the Messiah, their King have deep truth embedded within.  Even as they badger him to save himself, to save us all, they do not grasp on any level that it is only through his staying on the cross that we will all be saved.  One of the sinners has realized this…his confession from his own cross reveals the depths of Christ’s compassion…the criminal asks to be saved and Jesus assures him that that very day, he shall be with him in paradise.  And so it is that we find ourselves here as well.  No matter what kind of cross we feel we are bearing, no matter the places in our lives we that we feel there is no way out, no matter the places where we feel that it is only death and destruction that await us, we are invited to turn to Jesus and ask that he save us and be granted the promise of a life in paradise with him.  That is why there can be a quiet joy at being a sinner at the cross.  Jesus knows that it is finished.  Jesus knows that he must entrust his spirit into the Father’s hands.  He knows that it is time for him to die.  His death comes, the darkness covers, the mourning begins.

     And here I am a sinner at the foot of the cross.  I am the thief hanging next to Jesus crying out to be saved, but I am also the soldier who sees and believes that Jesus truly is the Son of God.          

     Yes, I am a sinner at the foot of the cross who, with limited understanding, embraces the reality that the death of Christ leads me to everlasting life.  Yes, I am more sinful than I ever dared believe; and yet I am also more loved than I ever dared hope.  Are you that beloved sinner as well?

     I am here at the foot of the cross today because I know that I stand in need of a savior.  And I am one of those who believe that Jesus is my Savior.  Are you one of the believers?  If you are here today in need of a savior as well, then believe that Christ has died for your sins and wants you to live as one who will be with him in paradise. 

     We are here at the foot of the cross in need of a savior.  Thanks be to God for sending his son Jesus Christ to die for us.  Amen.

The In-between Saturday

Yesterday was Good Friday. We enjoyed a powerful service that walked us through the Passion of Christ. Through the music of our choir, the stringed instruments (violin, viola, cello, guitar, base), percussion, saxophone and piano set alongside the scripture readings that revealed the last days of Jesus' life, we were led to the cross with emotion and power. Doug preached on Sabachthani, meaning forsaken, and reminded us that because Christ was forsaken in his death, we will never ever be forsaken by God. That's why Good Friday is good. It's good for us, who though imperfect are made whole through the death of Christ. The words of Isaiah 53 set the tone for the entire day: "But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities, upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed." 6 black candles placed on the front altar were extinguished one by one throughout the course of the service and 4 long stem red roses sitting in front of the altar cross created a stark visual reminder of Christ's suffering and death. Afterwards we departed in silence and were left wanting. For this one day, we allowed the heaviness of confronting our sin while seeking to understand both our need for forgiveness as well as the price that has been paid for our forgiveness to linger and sink in a bit. We leave with feelings of longing, anxious for the glory and praise of Easter morning to break through.
But first we have to live through Saturday. As I consider how painful this in-between day must've been for Jesus' followers, I am made aware of the places we ourselves live in the "in-between". I am acutely aware this Easter of our friend whose husband died in November. Their first Easter without husband and father. All this talk of the glory of the resurrection when their beloved is no longer with them. I think of those for whom life is tough. A friend's 15 year old nephew had brain surgery last week to remove a tumor. Although it was benign, it's been a rough road for the family. I am aware of the professional baseball player from my favorite team in Southern California whose life was cut short on Thursday by a drunk driver. 24 years old. How searing is that pain for his family, his team, his community? I know the pain of chronic and fatal illness. I understand the brokenness of relationships and the longings of loneliness. Doug is headed out to a service of commemoration with our Rwandan community as it has been 15 years since that horrific massacre unfolded in their homeland. For many, perhaps life feels perpetually like the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Christ is dead. Our hopes have been dashed. What is there is to look forward to anyway?
Yes...sometimes life feels like the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. And yet...we know that Easter Sunday comes, faithfully, assuredly, gloriously, not to remove the pain and suffering, but to redeem it. Easter Sunday will dawn anew and the power of sin and sorrow and sadness will be overcome. The darkness shall once again be pierced with the Light of Christ and nothing shall over take it. But that's getting ahead of ourselves for today. Today, we live with the pain that life brings, but we live with it knowing that Christ too lived with pain. He suffered unthinkable pain on our behalf and so today, on this Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, let that be your comfort...that Christ has entered into your pain and suffering. God doesn't end our suffering, but He definitely enters into it with us. So, if your pain is searing on this Saturday, may the knowledge that Christ knows your pain bring you comfort. And may the anticipation of his conquering death be your peace.
It's hard to live on Saturday. And yet, so many do. But we must remember that Sunday is coming. Saturday does not have the final word. And it is in this truth that we can rejoice, even while the darkness hovers for awhile.