Luke 23--First Word

Throughout Lent, we will be looking at the 7 last words of Jesus.  Technically, it is the 7 last statements or sayings of Jesus, but somewhere along the way, they became the 7 last words.  They come from all 4 of the gospels.  Matthew and Mark have the same phrase, verbatim.  “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabacthani, My God, my God why has though forsaken me.”  They both have both the Aramaic that would have been spoken and the Greek translation.   Luke has 3 and John has 3.  No one gospel has all 7 sayings.  There is a traditional order to the sayings, and that is the order we will follow, but it is merely a best guess since no gospel has all of the sayings. 

                Dying words are important and powerful for the simple fact that they come at the end of life.  They often provide a window into the soul.  Sometimes the words reveal fear, sometimes peace, sometimes love.  They can reveal where someone is physically, or emotionally, or mentally. 

                In the coming weeks, we will be looking more closely at the things Jesus said while on the cross and we will seek to understand him better, appreciate the significance of his sacrifice and draw closer to him throughout Lent.  We have a new focal point during worship to help us keep the cross central in our minds as we hear these sacred words.  Hopefully, some old understandings about the cross will be solidified and clarified and some new understanding may be exposed. 

                Today’s word is: “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”  It is a simple phrase, yet it is packed with meaning.  The first thing worthy of mention is that it is a prayer. In the middle of his suffering, after being beaten, mocked, and tortured—the first words across Jesus’ lips were a prayer. I’m pretty sure most of us would not have been so gracious.

·         Some of us would have hurled insults. 

·         Some of us would have sworn a blue streak

·         Some of us would have done it in true style and thrown insults covered in curses. 

·         Others of us would have simply asked, “Why? Why me? Why this?”

·         Some of us would have begged for mercy. We would have asked for release, for pardon, whatever might have been necessary to make the suffering stop.

It is the rare person who offers a prayer first and foremost while being persecuted.  And Jesus was that person.  You could argue, “Well, he was divine, he was supposed to do that.” But you have to remember he was fully human. The thing that makes him so special is that despite being God—he lived as a man and experienced all that we do.  And he showed us what it means to live the best in each of us. Jesus shows us that the best of our nature is to pray for those who persecute us, even while they are hurting us physically and emotionally.  That doesn’t mean we tolerate abuses and make it ok.  It simply means that when we live with Christ in our hearts that we are more inclined to pray, to seek God’s redemption and mercy for the other, than we are to wish them harm. 

The second thing worth mentioning is that even as a prayer, Jesus said these words aloud.  They were loud enough to be heard and overheard. “Father forgive them.”  Them.  All of them.  The soldiers. The Sanhedrin. The Pharisees. Father forgive them. The disciples. His family. His best friend. Father forgive them. The onlookers.  The criminals. Those that sneered. Those that mocked. Father forgive them. Them. All  of them . No matter their status. No matter their rank.  Father forgive them.  No matter their gender. No matter their religion. Father forgive them. No matter their doubt. No matter their beliefs. Father forgive them.  No matter their faithfulness. No matter their sinfulness.  Father forgive them. No matter their role in his crucifixion.  Father forgive them for they know not what they do. No one could have fully understood that day what it was that was about to transpire.  No one fully understood who Jesus was.  No one fully grasped what it would mean for him to die.  And certainly no one would understand what it would mean for him to be resurrected, for him to live again after death had fully taken hold.  Forgive them for they know not what they do.  Jesus wanted those people to hear his prayer. He wanted God to forgive them.  And it was critical that they know that. It was essential that they understood that part of the significance of the cross is forgiveness, for all of them. Not just for the disciples. Not just for a chosen few. Not just for the Jews. But for them, all of them.  Forgiveness for everyone.

Not only were those words meant to be heard on that day, but they were meant to be repeated often enough so that they were deemed worthy of recording, worthy of being included in the gospel story.  Jesus wanted us to hear this prayer.  He wanted us to know that we are forgiven people.  Even in the midst of our sin, Christ prays for us: Father forgive them for they know not what they do.  Not that we aren’t aware of our sinful behaviors, most of us are.  But that we don’t understand fully the consequences of our sin. That we don’t comprehend fully how damaging our sinful behaviors are.  We need forgiveness.  No matter who we are. No matter what we have done. No matter our doubt. No matter our belief. Christ asked that we would be forgiven.

We talk a lot about forgiveness in the church.  Even preaching about it today sort of feels a little odd since we spent so much time last week in prayer asking for forgiveness.  But once a week forgiveness isn’t even often enough.  Forgiveness is to be a daily discipline for us.  It is a sacred action. In some ways it should be worthy of being a sacrament.  But, in essence, through baptism and communion, it is.  Through the sacraments, we receive God’s grace, we receive God’s forgiveness.  And because we have received, we should be willing to share it. 

        Last week, we sang “Freely, freely”.  The beginning words to the hymn are, “God forgave my sin in Jesus’ name. I’ve been born again in Jesus’ name.  And in Jesus’ name, I come to you, to share his love as he told me to. He said, ‘Freely, freely you have received, freely freely give.”  Forgiveness and grace are not simply meant for us.  Once we have received, we are meant to give.  Even in the Lord’s prayer, we are taught to pray for both the giving and receiving of forgiveness.  “And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”   Forgive us Lord as we forgive others. Forgive us in the ways we forgive others. Forgive us while we are in the midst of forgiving.  Our forgiveness, in more than one scripture, hinges upon us forgiving others.  

A More Excellent Way

A couple of weeks ago, we heard Wesley’s description of a Methodist.  In essence, it was, a perfect disciple.  And while we could appreciate the ideal, most of us would be put to shame if compared to a true Methodist. 

                At the beginning of his ministry, John Wesley held a pretty hard line about good Christians and what you had to do to qualify.  As is often the case, ministry taught him a few things.  Wesley “softened” a bit over the years.  Not in a bad way, but in a way that made room for the realities, pitfalls, and shortcomings of being human.  As Wesley gained some perspective in practical ministry he moved from an idealist perspective to one that was more feasible. 

                Some might say Wesley lost his salt, that he lost sight of the truth. But I’d have to disagree.  I think Wesley found the truth.  The truth is that a classroom theory often loses touch with the complexities of reality.

                I know because it happened to me.  In seminary they teach you a lot. You study the Old Testament for a year, you study the New Testament for a year.  You study Christian history, systematic theology, preaching, teaching, worship, administration and more.  And in the practice of ministry classes like preaching and worship, you explore endless possibilities of how to do things. You use a dozen different hymnals, dancers, poets, all types of choirs and musicians.  In classes on mission and politics you study how to change the world—one life and one law at a time.  In most cases you learn some sort of ideal of how things should be if the Gospel were lived perfectly and the church weren’t riddled with conflict.       All of that tends to make you very hopeful—which is a good thing. But it can also set you up for a fall. 

                When I entered full time ministry, I was shocked that my church looked nothing like the one I had prepared for.  My church had hurts and wounds and resentments that lasted years. It had a trend of decline rather than growth. It had orange carpet on the floors and the ceilings.  It wasn’t a bad church by any means—the people were amazing.  But it wasn’t always what I expected.  And I had been trained to institute MY ideas, but I quickly learned it wasn’t about me.  I couldn’t run roughshod with all of my ideas because my ideas hadn’t taken into account the uniqueness of my people. 

                If the seminary connection isn’t helpful, think of it this way…at an early age most of us saw Disney movies and we learned a very romantic and problem free version of relationships and love, right?  And depending on our parents’ relationship, we may or may not have had that notion challenged.  Later we began to think we might fall in love—that we might have our own love story.  And we thought we’d get married and have all that romance and beauty.  And then when we got married, we were confronted with the reality—love can be wonderful and sweet and full of romance, but it can also be frustrating, hurtful, and fraught with problems.  There is sickness, there is debt, there is hardship and family conflict…none of which were featured on the big screen of love.  In essence, we were prepared for something different than the reality of love and marriage. 

                I think in some ways, Wesley had a similar problem.  Early in ministry he held to an ideal so strongly that he neglected the individuality of the people.  But time taught him that life and ministry and discipleship weren’t always ideal.  John still sought after the highest standard, but with a lot more room for grace and encouragement. 

                Toward the end of his life, he wrote a sermon called “A More Excellent Way” and in it he describes two ways of being Christian.

1)      The general way

2)     The more excellent way

The general way was good—you avoided sin, sought to do good, and followed the commandments.  The more excellent way included all of that and added the idea of Christian perfection where you strive to have the mine of Christ. 

Hebrews 10

Summary of vs 1-10

The law is only a shadow of the good to come—not the realities themselves. 

Sacrifices are done according to the law. 

                If the law is imperfect then so are the sacrifices.

                If they were perfect, they would not have needed to be repeated time and time again.

Christ clarifies that burnt offerings and sin sacrifices were not what God desired.  Instead God wanted us to be in right relationship and so God sent Jesus, the one who came to do God’s will.

And through him, we are made holy once and for all.

When we look at the practices of sacrifices, we see the priests offering them repeatedly, right? But when Jesus does it—he only does it once and then takes his place at the right hand of God.   At other times we have talked about how Jesus was both the sacrifice, the lamb, the offering that was made, and the priest—the one who offered the sacrifice on behalf of the people.  Jesus was both the perfect priest and the perfect sacrifice, so what he did had no flaws, no short comings, what he did was perfect.

                Through Christ’s sacrifice, we are sanctified.  When we accept Christ, when we allow ourselves to be sanctified by his perfect sacrifice, we are made new.  The divine laws are written on our hearts and in our minds and our sins are not only forgiven, they are forgotten.

                What God does perfectly in Christ is sufficient for all of us for all time.

(trans)

                The author of Hebrews goes on to say this:  because we have been purified by the perfect sacrifice and we have Jesus as our intermediary, let’s draw close to God with a true heart and full assurance of faith.  We go cleansed and free. So let’s go forth with hope. And let’s make sure we encourage one another in this journey.  We need one another.  We need to see each other, hear our stories, our triumphs and our victories.  We need to be fortified in fellowship and encourage one another as we get closer and closer to God.  

                Ok. So what?  

                Well, I think a lot of times, we come to the table of holy communion as if this were an old school sacricice.  I mean, we talk about the sacrifice of Jesus,but we treat it like a goat or lamb sacricice.  We accept only partial forgiveness.  We release only a small parat of our misdeeds and assume the “big” stuff won’t or can’t be forgiven.  

                What a loss for us. Christ came because he saw that our sacrifices were imperfect and he knew that we could be fully forgiven and fully reconciled with God and with one another.  So he came, offered his own body and made the perfect sacrifice.  And then we waste it.  We, by failing to claim all of what God has offered, we disrespect and disregard what has been given to us.

                God wants you to have full forgiveness. God wants you to have full freedom.  So why not receive that gift?  Today is the day to lay it all before God, all of your sins, all of your misgivings, and to be forgiven, 100%, not in part, but in full.  

                Will you receive that gift?  

                Before we enter into communion, we are going to take a few minutes of silence to confess what’s on our hearts and to ask god to give us the courage to fully receive the grace which is offered to us.

                Let us pray…

The Good Samaritan

Luke 10:25-37

This scripture is an oldie but a goodie. Even folks not raised in the church know the gist of this story.  We even have a “Samaritan law” that protects a Good Samaritan citizen who tries to help someone in need.  We know the general storyline, but do we know the specifics?  Let’s look closely just to be sure.

                The story is not just a story in itself, it’s an answer to a question: Who is my neighbor?  An expert in Hebrew law is talking with Jesus and wants to know how he can inherit eternal life?  When Jesus asks him what the law says, he cites 2 Hebrew scriptures:

1)      Deuteronomy 6:5 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind.

2)     And Leviticus 19:18: “Love your neighbor as yourself”

Jesus validated the man’s answer and then the man inquires “Who is my neighbor?  To which Jesus replies with the story of the Good Samaritan. So, let’s see how well you remember and how closely you were listening:

·         A man was traveling from where to where?  (Jerusalem to Jericho)

·         And what happened to him? (He was attacked by a band of robbers—stripped, beaten, and left for dead)

·         How many people came upon him on the road? (3)

·         Who was the first? (a priest)

·         What did he do? (walked around)

·         à why do you think the priest left him?  Maybe he had work to do. Maybe he was keeping cleanliness laws and didn’t want to defile himself, thus preventing him from fulfilling his priestly responsibilities.  Maybe he was in a rush.  Whatever the reason, he didn’t stop, he just kept on walking.

·         Who was the second? (a Levite)

·         What’s a Levite? (an assistant to the priest)

·         What did he do? (He walked around)

·         à we don’t know the specifics of why here either, but maybe it was for similar reasons? 

·         Who was the 3^rd? (a Samaritan)

·         Who were the Samaritans? (enemies of the jews—We know from a different story in the gospels that the disciples wanted to walk around Samaria entirely so they wouldn’t have to deal with the Samaritans—that’s how bad their relationship was)

·         What did the Samaritan do?  (cleaned and bandaged him, gave him a ride on his donkey, cared for him at the inn, paid for him to stay, asked the inn keeper to take care of him, and came back to pay the rest of the bill)

The Samaritans response was thorough and profound. He could have stopped after cleaning and bandaging the man’s wounds but he didn’t; and he could have stopped after taking him to town, but he didn’t stop there either. Instead, he did EVERYTHING he can. 

·         He gave him a place to stay

·         He cared for him

·         He paid his way

·         And he came back to insure that everything was ok.

This Samaritan is amazing and he’s the one Jesus defines as neighbor. 

So we’ve heard this story, we’ve proven we know this story, it’s a done deal right?  We’ve heard the story so many times, we could tell it ourselves? So why do we need to hear it again?  Probably because no matter how well we know the story, we don’t always live the story.  Like the priest, we often get caught up in our work and in our responsibilities that we have tunnel vision. We are so focused on the end goal of our day—whatever accomplishment that may be --that we fail to see the real needs of those around us. We don’t see that they are hungry, that they need a ride to work, a shoulder to cry on, help with their immigration documents, a hot shower, or a true friend. 

Or worse yet, maybe we do see, but we just don’t care.  Or maybe all we are focused on is the title that describes them—not a Samaritan for us, but instead:

·         A drunk

·         A jerk

·         An illegal alien

·         A lesbian woman

·         A prostitute

·         A homeless man

·         A tagger

·         A democrat

·         A republican

·         A gang banger

·         A drug dealer

·         A pot smoker

·         A liberal

·         A conservative

We become so fixated on what we think we know about someone that we fail to see who that person really is. Because they most certainly are not a title.  Instead, they’re a person with a story to tell. A person with hopes and fears, with aspirations and failures. And our job is to treat them as neighbor. Not the kind of neighbor you wave at as you pass by, but instead the kind you know by name. the kind you pray for. The kind you check in on, the kind of neighbor you get to know so you can stop assuming and start living as Christ tells us we should in order to inherit eternal life.

Now, of course, this is easier said than done.  Jesus doesn’t ask us to do what is easy, he asks us to do what is right.  Loving our enemy, not just briefly and from a distance, but passionately with everything we have, is often impossibly hard.  But as hard as it may be, it’s still what we are called to do.  Not only is it hard to go above and beyond for those we don’t know well, but it’s harder still to go above and beyond for those we fear, those we look down upon, those we hate.  And worse yet, it’s not popular.  You could bet good money that the Samaritan’s friends did not look highly upon his choice to help the Jewish man.  I’m sure they ridiculed him and gave him guff. I’m sure they reminded him of all the bad blood and past incidents that had taken place between the Jews and the Samaritans.  But he didn’t care. He did it anyway.  He even went back to pay the bill. He didn’t leave the man high and dry stuck with a bill at the inn he couldn’t pay.  He cared for him, from beginning to end, no matter the costs. 

 I’d venture, we normally like the idea of the Good Samaritan.  We want to be the Samaritan, the one who does good, the one who sees someone in need and helps.  But often, I think our view of the Samaritan is superficial. I don’t think many of us, myself included, think about how much is truly involved in being a neighbor as the Samaritan was. I enjoy helping people, it’s my life’s work, but I definitely pause when something is going to take “too much time” or take me away from another commitment.  I’m not always ready to drop everything to help to the fullest extent.  It takes time. It takes energy. It takes money. But it’s what I’m called to do. And somehow I don’t think I’m the only one who is reluctant. 

Are you reluctant?  Have you been hung up on what you think you know that you are unwilling to do the real work of being a neighbor and helping to meet all their needs? 

Have you walked past a homeless man, assuming he’s only a drunk or a vagrant who is on the street only because he won’t get up and do for himself? Who doesn’t have a job because he won’t look for one?  Who doesn’t have a home because he squandered his money?  Have you made these assumptions and walked away?  Or have you stopped to hear his story? Have you insured he had a place to stay and food on his plate? Have you tried to help him find work? Not just referred him to some store down the street that is hiring, but helped him fill out a job application or prepare for an interview? 

Have you walked past a Spanish speaking neighbor assuming they are here illegally?  Have you imagined them swimming through a river to cross the border or hoping a fence in the middle of the night?  Have you made these assumptions and walked on by?  Or have you listened to her story? Have you learned the names of her family members?  Have you helped her get the help she needs?  Or did you just assume? 

We hate to be implicated. We hate being confronted with our choices. We have the freedom to do what we want and we want to feel justified in those decisions.  We don’t want to be challenged.  I don’t, and I’m sure you don’t either.  But Jesus doesn’t really care about those desires. Jesus cares about how we act and what we do. And he cares, not just when we do what is easy.  He cares, more than anything, what we do when it is hard and undesirable.