Luke 23:1-49
Who’s On Trial?
The people were ready for this day. They
had been waiting for him for years, reminding themselves of God's promise to
restore them. The Romans were in control of their land and their lives. But God
would send the one who would lead them into a new time, a new life, where they
would be free from the powers of this world.
The city of Jerusalem would welcome Jesus
as that person today. "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the
Lord!" was the cry as he rode a colt into the city, as the people waved
palm branches alongside the road. Here was the one who would save them, who
would deliver them, and they would follow him.
What was it the people saw, or better yet,
wanted to see, in Jesus? What did Peter see that would make him blindly
proclaim he would never depart away from Jesus? What did Judas see in Jesus
that he would follow him? Who are these people that followed Jesus through the
streets of Jerusalem in what was both an act of religious devotion and
political proclamation? In those moments, I’m sure they believed in their
loyalty. But we know it didn’t last. Within the week, they would desert him,
betray him, and call for his death? Had Jesus changed that much between the
time he was hailed as the messiah and the time of his arrest and trial?
It turns out a lot can happen in seven
days. After his triumphant entry, Jesus may have been the one arrested and killed,
but it was the people who were on trial. When he rode into Jerusalem, he was
admonished by the Pharisees to silence his followers. He would not, allowing
them to say their piece. When he was taunted by the guards and soldiers, he did
not silence them. When he was taken to the place he would die, the crowds
gathered to hurl insults his way, and when he was hung on the cross, he was
mocked. He could have asked God to intervene, but he didn’t. Those final days
and hours became a courtroom scene of their own, where the people were put on
trial as they testified against themselves.
As hard as it is, our observances of a
Holy Lent and Holy Week ask us to enter into the moment and discover ourselves
on trial. When have we declared our loyalty to a person, a team, a party, and
then backed off when there were questions, or there was prolonged losing, or we
felt disappointed? When have we run away or kept silent as someone else was
being hurt, or falsely accused, sometimes when they are not even present to
defend themselves? When have we joined in at poking fun at someone different
from ourselves, rather than standing apart from the laughter, or even taking on
their defense?
Today we don’t just tell a story of an innocent
man going to his death; through the liturgy we offer today, we re-enact the
trial of all people, including ourselves. The stage is now set, let the liturgy
now present the facts… How we confess with our lips but deny his rule by our
lives. In the death of Jesus upon the cross, we are found guilty. No one came
forward to rescue him. No one stayed when he was arrested. We could not be
found. Many questions remain, and maybe we will never fully understand how we
walk in their same footsteps. But the greatest proof of God’s love for Jesus
and us is that Good Friday is not the end of the story.
Our epistle lesson comes from Paul’s
letter to the Philippian church. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I’m been
pronouncing the name of the place wrong for all of these years – they pronounce
it with a long “E” at the end, not an “I” as it is written in English. It is
the site of one of the first Christian churches in Europe, and he held a soft
space for the people there in his heart. In this letter, Paul writes from
prison, disappointed that he cannot go to them amid their current struggles.
The second chapter is a hymn, probably adapted to a worship setting and deep in
theological meaning, echoing some of the same theology as written into the
Nicene Creed.
Here in Philippians 2, we hear a word
about the incarnation of Jesus. Paul reminds them that Jesus did not seek
escape from trouble or death, but took on his humanity fully, revealing something
deeper and truer about his nature. Paul offers Jesus as an example of humility,
hoping that they (and we) will follow Jesus’ example so that we can experience
unity with him and one another, in our servanthood together and the sharing of
common goals and beliefs.
Jesus’ trouble feels overwhelming when we
hear the story from beginning to end, but his story does not end with today’s
gospel reading – we know how the rest of the story goes. Jesus’ vindication
came through resurrection – moving him from humility to glory. Ours comes as we
receive his sacrificial gift and example so that we can be vindicated through
him.[i]
The story doesn’t end with death, and the cross of Jesus Christ becomes not a
sentence of condemnation for those who abandoned him, but rather an instrument
of forgiveness and mercy.
We start Palm Sunday with shouts of
support and acclamation, but the liturgy quickly proceeds to the hard stuff,
the dark underbelly of truth about those who surrounded Jesus… and the truth
about us. In reality, this is a difficult day. It should be. We are asked to
look in a mirror and see who we are and what we are capable of, both good and
bad. We can announce our loyalty, but clearly, we can be persuaded to abandon
that loyalty in short measure. We can say we are present with one another, but
can also betray another for the sake of our safety and run away in times of
trouble. These are not things we like to admit about ourselves. And they are certainly
not the things we want to talk about with others.
Hearing the Passion story read aloud
requires us to hear the whole story… not isolated verses, or bits and pieces of
scripture, but the whole tragedy as it unfolds over a long and difficult night.
Yet even as we see ourselves in the story we tell today through the liturgy, we
are reminded that this day and this week are not about us; they are about God's
love for us…a God who longs to be in relationship with us, as we are, and as he
created us to be. Look at the lengths he is willing to go through to see that
relationship grow and flourish. This day and this week are about a new
relationship with God made possible by his love for us and all the world, and a
reminder that the road to that relationship will often be more difficult than
we imagine or expect.
So, enter this week in humility. Expect to
see yourself in the frailty of people like Peter, Judas, the soldiers, and
Pilate. Enter the week in joy, anticipating the power of God to work in and
through our frailty to make us new through his mercy. Enter the week in thanks,
for the hope we have depends not upon ourselves but upon a loving God who won't
let us go, regardless of our sins. Amen.
In the 4th century, a Cappadocian bishop name Gregory of Nazianzus, produced a series of writings exploring the Trinitarian nature of God in the scriptures. His summery of Paul’s letter to the Philippians gives us a down-to-earth statement of why Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are so important to us. As you hear these words, think of Jesus’ last week, and of Paul’s hymn of exultation, which encourages us to not just take a step in Jesus’ shoes, but to become more like him.
Let us become like Christ, since Christ also became like us; let us become gods because of him, since he also because of us became human. He assumed what is worse that he might give what is better. He became poor that we through his poverty might become rich. He took the form of a slave, that we might regain freedom. He descended that we might be lifted up, he was tempted that we might be victorious, he was dishonored to glorify us, he died to save us, he ascended to draw to himself us who lay below in the Fall of sin. Let us give everything, offer everything, to the one who gave himself as a ransom and an exchange for us. But one can give nothing comparable to oneself, understanding the mystery and becoming because of him everything that he became because of us. [Gregory of Nazianzus, Festal Orations, p. 59].[ii]
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Peace, Deb
(c) Deb Luther Teagan, April 2022
[i] Bob
Cornwall, TAKING THE ROAD OF HUMILITY - LECTIONARY READING FOR PASSION SUNDAY (PHILIPPIANS
2), April 4, 2022, https://www.bobcornwall.com/2022/04/taking-road-of-humility-lectionary.html
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