Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
March 29, 2013
Good Friday
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Psalm 22:1-21
Hebrews 10:1-25
Psalm 69:1-23
John 18:1-19:37
Kenosis
I
remember the first time I attended a wake and a funeral. I was a kid, not sure
how old exactly. I remember my parents explaining what it was going to be like
visiting at the funeral home and then later what the funeral mass would be like.
I remember being sad, frightened, and worried. I remember wondering how I – or
anybody else – would be able to get through such a hard and painful experience:
the death of someone we love.
Since
then, like most of us, I’ve been to more wakes, memorial services and funerals
than I can count – more than I would want to count.
These
gatherings are always daunting and sometimes so painful, especially when we
mourn someone young or someone who has died suddenly or someone who had an
especially difficult or troubled life.
But,
still, we go and we gather.
We
gather to grieve.
But,
at wakes, memorial services and funerals, we gather also to remember – to
remember happier times, yes, but more than that to remember and even to
celebrate the core – the essence – of the one who has died.
And,
that’s what we are about today.
Good
Friday is a day of grief and it’s also a day of remembering – and, ultimately,
it’s even a day of celebration.
We
grieve the tragic death of Jesus of Nazareth – the horrifying and shameful death
of the prophet who preached repentance, forgiveness, and love.
We
grieve the senseless execution of the meek king who had so recently been greeted
with waving palms and cloaks on the road and shouts of Hosanna as he rode on a
donkey into his capital city.
We
grieve the death of the Son of God.
And
maybe, on this day, we also grieve the deaths of so many other innocent people
who have died and are dying even today at the hands of 21st Century
counterparts of Caiaphas, Herod and Pilate.
We
gather to grieve and we gather to remember.
As
an act of grief and memory, on Good Friday it’s been the custom since very
early in Christian history to read the Passion according the Gospel of John.
It’s
a beautiful account, but one that needs to be put into some context. Listening
to the story of betrayal and abandonment and calls for crucifixion, we need to
remember that Jesus and all of his first followers were Jews. What we are
hearing is a tragic conflict within Judaism and among Jews of the First
Century. It’s a tragic conflict that has nothing to do with Jews of today or of
any other time.
It
is an act of memory when we cry out “Crucify him!” But, we’re not
standing in for Jewish people of two thousand years ago. No, we’re playing ourselves.
We’re being reminded of the ways that we ourselves have crucified and still crucify
Jesus when we turn away from his command to love God and to love one another.
We
grieve and we remember and, ultimately, we celebrate.
So,
what is the core – what is the essence – of Jesus that we remember and even
celebrate today?
Well,
for me, nobody says it better than St. Paul:
Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the
form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but
emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human
likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient
to the point of death – even death on a cross.
That
familiar passage is from Paul’s letter to the Philippians but most scholars
think Paul is actually quoting a very early Christian hymn – an early Christian
reflection on the core – the essence – of Jesus and the core – the essence – of
the Gospel.
The
core – the essence - of Jesus Christ is self-emptying love.
Open
up just about any page of the gospels and you’ll find it.
But,
we see the self-emptying love of Jesus most clearly at the end of his life.
On
Maundy Thursday morning we remembered John’s story of the Last Supper. John
tells us that Jesus “got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a
towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’
feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.”
There
it is: the core – the essence of Jesus Christ – self-emptying love.
And,
on the cross, Jesus gives way - empties out - his life for us all.
“It is finished.”
Of
course, if the story ended at the Cross, if Jesus and his mission were really finished
on that first Good Friday, none of us would be spending part of our afternoon
here today.
But,
we know on that first Easter God did what God always does, turning death into
life. God refills the empty vessels. Faster than we can give away love, faster
than we can pour out ourselves, God always manages to replenish us with more
love - more of us - so there’s always even more love and more of us to give
away.
Back
at the Last Supper, after Jesus was done washing the disciples’ feet, he
explained to them why he did it:
“So
if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one
another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I
have done to you.”
The
core – the essence of Jesus Christ – is self-emptying love.
And
as Christians, our core – our essence – is meant to be self-emptying love.
Two
thousand years ago people didn’t know what to make of the self-emptying love of
Jesus.
The
religious and political authorities saw him as a threat.
For
the most part, even Jesus’ closest disciples didn’t get it – didn’t understand
Jesus’ self-emptying love. Instead they jockeyed for position or prestige. They
were suspicious and jealous of others who healed in Jesus’ name. They dozed off
– they betrayed – they abandoned Jesus in his time of greatest need.
But,
there were some who understood and imitated the self-emptying love of Jesus.
Mary
of Bethany got it when she anointed Jesus’ feet with perfume worth nearly a
year of wages – giving away - pouring out - all she had as a gift to Jesus.
Two
thousand years later people still don’t know what to make of the self-emptying
love of Jesus.
Look
at all the attention Pope Francis has gotten by doing things like carrying his
own bags, paying his own hotel bill, personally canceling a newspaper
subscription, preferring to live in a simple apartment instead of a palace, and
yesterday washing the feet of prisoners - even some women! - at a youth detention facility.
Of
course, he’s just doing his best to imitate Jesus.
But,
we don’t have to look all the way to Rome for examples of Christians following
Jesus’ example of self-giving love.
In
my time here at Grace I’ve seen it over and over again. I’ve seen self-giving
love when a bunch of girls and their moms decided to put on a play, raising
money to help pay tuition for a girl whose mother had died far too young.
I’ve
seen self-giving love in times of tragedy and loss when we sign up to provide
meals for grieving families, when we offer shoulders to cry on, when we make
time to visit people in hospitals and nursing homes and even jail.
I’ve
seen self-giving love when I recently bumped into a parishioner at Shop Rite
pushing a cart filled with groceries – groceries bought not for her family but
for a family in need.
I’ve
seen self-giving love when parishioners create a delicious gourmet dinner for
homeless people and when on “Souper Bowl” Sunday our soup pots overflow with
cash and checks for soup kitchens in Morristown and Dover.
Right
here at Grace Church, over and over again, I’ve seen the self-giving love of
Christ.
Today
we’ve gathered together to grieve the tragic death – the senseless execution of
Jesus of Nazareth.
And
we’ve gathered to remember the core – the essence of Jesus: the self-giving
love that he poured out throughout his life and finally when “he stretched out
his arms of love on the hard of the cross, that he might draw the whole world
to himself.”
Then
and now the world doesn’t know what to make of self-giving love – is still
surprised and confused by it.
The Evangelist John tells us that just before Jesus took his
last breath on the cross, he said, “It is finished.”
But,
we know on that first Easter God did what God always does, turning death into
life, refilling empty vessels.
Faster
than we can give away love, faster than we can pour out ourselves, God always
manages to replenish us with more love - more of us - so there’s always even
more love and more of us to give away.
May
it be so.
Amen.