Good Friday, April 6, 2007 Oh Happy Fault of Adam which bought for us so great a Savior. But we must wait and wait a further three days. This day is sad because the Lord Jesus Christ is dead. This is the day when savage irony and savage hatred, when the dogs of war are released into the world. The flickering candle is quenched, the bruised reed is snapped. He who knew no sin was made to take sin upon his innocent shoulders, was forced against all justice and against all righteousness to take our sins on his shoulder and bear them to Calvary. Pilate proclaimed him King. Bitter savage irony from a bitter and savagely cynical man. “This is the king of the Jews” “Rex Iudorum.” But he is not proclaiming Jesus as a real king. This is a patrician Roman, bitter and savagely unconcerned with the fate of either these provincial Jews or the man Jesus. This Jesus is no more than a tool to hurt these provincial people. He seats the criminal Galillean on the seat of judgment and makes them stand beneath him. He is insulting them by placing a Galilean over them in mock judgment. “I am placing a country bumkin over you, you proud Pharisees and priests, a condemned Galillean is more important than you.” This is the way of the Pilates of the world, to put in the knife of insult and humiliation. We Pilates know how to wound and humiliate. We know how to be savage and ironic. Jesus was no more than a joke to Pilate. We all share some of Pilate’s tastes, the thrill of putting others in their place and destroying those who differ from us. We have all show our pathetic irony and our pathetic revenge, our supposed practical joke and our tonguelash across the bows of those who make have crossed us. There are people who have suffered from our tongue, our joke, our gossip. Then we are also Peter. “I do not know the man.” The brave heroics, to draw the sword and slice off the ear of the High priest’s servant. A brave show of bravado when there is still the chance we can get away. He’s brave all right, and well able to put others down and keep them there. Brave all right when there are others around who will back us up and support us. But where was Peter when there were no friends to back him up. The bully becomes a coward in front of a mere servant girl. “I do not know him.” That is how we can be friends, we can be such Peters, mbrave in a secure group and cowards among strangers. But where are we Peters when we are asked to support something unpopular. Where are we when the weak person asks for our help. There is a reason there is a Good Friday every year. “Behold your King!!!” The crowd shout “Crucify him!!! Crucify him!!!” The crowd shouts out what the rabble rousers tell them to do. The Greek word for the crowd is ‘oklos’. It is not a nice word. It is word of derision, a word of insult for the fickle and unthinking crowd. A few days before, they ran alongside him as he entered Jerusalem and the shouted ‘Hosanna!! Hosanna to the Son of David.” To be popular and fickle is the desire of the crowd. Though there must have been people in that crowd who had their doubts their voices are not heard. Their qualms are not part of the narrative of the Gospel passions. Why is it that I venture to say that their ‘No’ is not remembered not so much for historical accuracy, but so that this Good Friday story will hit us in the very center of our own identity. The Good Friday narrative is a recounting of the actual events of that awful day 2000 years ago. But the Gospel is also for our salvation. And so the narrative hits not just the facts of the death and torture of Jesus. It does not simply tell us what the crowd did. It does not simply tell us of the cowardice of first century Jews. It does not just tell us of the cynicism of a first century Roman. It does not simply tell of the opportunism and cowardice of a first century Galillean fisherman. This passion is also for us, so that we may know what we have done for Christ and to Christ. The passion narratives are meant to tell us “Don’t even think of passing a judgment on these historical figures.” We are warned to be careful lest we might judge harshly. The Gospel presents us with Pilate and Peter and with a fickle crowd so that we will realize that we too would likely have done just as they did. The narratives warn us about the misuse of power, about how the historical figures of Pilate forgot that mercy is greater that strength. They warn us to be gentle when we have power and to be brave when the danger is greatest. This is the darkest of all days, the Bruised reed is broken and the flickering wick is quenched. The sad are uncomforted and the dead lie cold in their graves. The hungry have no one to feed them. God appears broken and the dogs of war have their terrible triumph. This is the “Dies Irae” the day of Anger, when the cross is a sign of God shamed and ruined. The church is brow-broken and bent under the weight of new sin and old shame. Darkness reigns and Christ is dead upon the Cross. His side is stabbed and blood pours out. His mother weeps uncontrollably. “My God, My God!! Why have you abandoned me?” Watch and Pray. Watch and pray. Though we walk through the valley of the Shadow of death,
we fear no evil.
For you are with us,
With your rod and your staff you give us comfort.