Almighty God, whose most dear Son
went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory
before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the
cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.
Despite
the name, Good Friday doesn’t seem to be very good. Good Friday is unique in the
Church year. It is the only day where it is not appropriate to celebrate the
Eucharist; it is the only day that we vest in black, instead of our normal
white which represents Resurrection; it is the only day on which we don’t
consider the Resurrection when faced with death. Good Friday is a day with one
very real and challenging theme- death.
Here at St.
Francis, we have known death all too well over the past 5 weeks. Several
parishioners have died, and several others have lost loved ones. Many of you
know that yesterday was my grandmother’s funeral. As if we hadn’t all faced
death recently, we are presented with the emotional and dramatic reading of the
sentencing, killing, and death of Jesus. One person has said “Good Friday is a
day for all Christians to approach with trembling, but none more than those
called to preach.” And so it is.
I have no words
to take away the sting of death, no shouts of victory for today- but come back
on Sunday for those. So instead of trying to do the impossible- rationalizing
Good Friday, explaining the cross of Christ, or trying to make us feel better
about the reality of loss, instead let’s focus on how Jesus faced his own
death, perhaps as a way for us to face our own and that of our loved ones.
The first thing
to notice about Jesus in the Passion, especially as recorded in John, is that
Jesus chose to die. His death was no accident, Jesus wasn’t surprised to find
himself on the cross that Friday. When the soldiers come for Jesus, he doesn’t
hide, but instead goes out to meet them. When they ask for Jesus, he clearly
says “here I am.” When the high priest, Caiaphas, questions Jesus, he responds by
reminding them that he has done his ministry out in the open, not trying to
hide what he has been doing. He even challenges Caiaphas to point out where he
was made a false testimony. Jesus is then taken across Jerusalem to the Roman
governor, Pilate. And Jesus is in control of this conversation, not Pilate. Jesus
dictates how the questioning goes, and even has Pilate confused about what
truth is. Jesus speaks about his power and tells him that Pilate has no power
except that which has been given to him.
In other gospel
accounts, Jesus is helped by Simon of Cyrene in carrying the cross, and he
stumbles three times. But here in John, Jesus alone carries his cross and he
does it beautifully, with no stumbling whatsoever. Even from the cross, Jesus
remains in charge, announcing “it is finished” when he dies.
Through the
whole Passion, Jesus remains in charge; he is the director of this drama. Jesus
is not some helpless victim, but instead he is someone willing to die for his
mission. Jesus came to heal the sick, to challenge those in authority, to lift
up the lowly, to preach the Kingdom of God over and against the kingdoms of the
Temple and of Rome. And Jesus wasn’t going to change his message when that message
got him into trouble. Jesus was able to remain true to who he was, even in the face
of death. Death did not change him; it only made him more resolute. What Jesus’
death shows us is that, aside from whatever theological significance scholars
attribute to Good Friday, Jesus was willing to die so that his message might
continue even after his death. Had he recanted, or toned down his message, it
would have been lost in history; but by proclaiming it to the end, he
proclaimed it into eternity.
On
a day such as this, when we consider our own death, we consider how it is that
we might choose to live our lives to the fullest, even in the face of death. We
will all die, of that much we are certain. But how we will die is the unknown.
For some of us, death will come as a thief in the middle of the night, for
others, it will be what some will call a happy death at the end of a long and
rich life. Few of us will have the control over the timing of our death as
Jesus did. But in following in his footsteps, in mustering up our courage as he
did, in remaining true to our values as he did, we can indeed be in control of
the sort of life we lead up to the very end, whenever that time may be.
The
second point that I’d like to make about Jesus’ death is that it meant
something. As I’ve mentioned, Jesus was willing to die, and was willing to face
death for his Gospel. Jesus’ death meant something, just as his life did. The
last word that Jesus speaks, recorded in the Greek of John, is tetelestai, which is a perfect passive
verb, meaning that is completed, or accomplished, or ended. And so the question
we are left with is “what is accomplished?” There are still Caiaphases in our
world who unjustly condemn others over power, there are Pilates out there who
are cowards and are complicit in evil. Death still happens, so does injustice.
What did the death of Jesus complete?
Much
ink has been spilled over what the crucifixion was about, and I don’t really
want to explore those theories this Good Friday. Whatever the cross means,
Jesus proclaims that it has been accomplished; it did what it was supposed to
do. Just about a week ago I stood on Golgotha- and it was an amazing
experience. One of the features of the church now built on that site, is that
under the Chapel of the Crucifixion is the Chapel of Adam. The symbolism is that
Jesus was crucified on top of Adam, on top of all that has come before. It was
a good reminder that Jesus precedes us in death. Good Friday helps to make all
of our last days somewhat easier.
Jesus
knows our pain, he has experienced betrayal, he has lived through abandonment, and
he has died. Not many of us will have the grace to live and die to the degree that
Jesus did. And so for those of us who are wearied by the changes and chances of
life, those who know death is a horizon, and a horizon is nothing but the limit
of our sight, but still feel uneasy about death, Jesus is our rock in death.
So
on Good Friday, we thank Jesus for his steadfast example, for his willingness
to die for the Gospel, for his dedication to his mission, for his inspiring
ability to remain in control. We look to Jesus as a friend and counselor in our
times of trouble, in the valley of the shadow of death, knowing that he has
been there before us and will be our guide through the journey.
We can take
solace in Nicodemus, who first came to Jesus at night because he was afraid of
being seen with him, now coming to anoint the body of Jesus. Even if we are
unsure of our own faith, uncertain of Jesus’ role as Messiah, perplexed by the
events of Good Friday, we can still come as Nicodemus did- to give thanks, to
weep at the tomb, to anoint a life that was selflessly given for the Good News
of God’s Kingdom.
We have not yet
come to the joys and alleluias of Easter morning; to be sure, they were first seen
and heard some 2,000 years ago and will echo through Creation forever. But today,
we struggle with the reality of death. “Amen” is a Hebrew word that means “truly,”
“so be it,” or “we agree.” Today is a day for saying amen- for acknowledging
death, for assenting to Jesus’ message, for asking for the grace of our Lord’s
life and death to fill our own. Even if today we do not proclaim alleluia, let
us add our “amen” to Jesus’ cry of agony, victory, and achievement. It is finished.
Amen.
