St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
March 29, 2024
Good Friday
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Psalm 22
Hebrews 10:16-25
John 18:1-19:42
Emptiness
We can only call today Good Friday because we know what awaits Jesus and his friends and us.
Without that knowledge, we certainly wouldn’t be here today.
And Jesus of Nazareth would be just a footnote in history, if that.
We also know that through much of our history Good Friday has been a very bad day for our Jewish brothers and sisters.
So, it’s important to understand that when we remember the events in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, we are not recalling a long-ago battle between Jews and Christians.
There were no Christians, yet.
And, with the exception of Pontius Pilate and his fellow Romans, everyone in this sad story, very much including Jesus himself, was Jewish.
And although the religious authorities seemed to feel threatened by Jesus and feared that he, or the people who hailed him as king, would bring on a disaster, it was Pilate and the Romans who executed Jesus.
Jesus, like so many others throughout history and still today, was a victim of state-sponsored violence.
But, over the years, the Church forgot – or chose to forget – this.
And, worst of all, Christians held the Jews of later generations responsible for what happened long ago, unleashing horrific violence, cruelty, and suffering.
Tragedy upon tragedy.
In response to this horrible history, today we used a slightly different but perfectly acceptable translation of the Passion, in most cases replacing “Jews” with “Judeans.”
Especially these days with anti-Semitism on the rise, hopefully this language will help us to recognize that the Jews of today have nothing to do with the events that we remember today.
And, not only that, but hopefully we will remember that God’s covenant with the Jewish people is eternal.
The Jews are forever our elder siblings in faith.
After Jesus was baptized and then tempted in the wilderness, he spent his time – three years is the traditional count – he spent his time pouring out his life in loving service to God the Father and to us.
Jesus poured out his life, teaching and healing.
Jesus poured out his life, calling us to lives of loving service, instructing us that true greatness comes through loving service - washing feet – giving away ourselves for God and for one another.
Not an easy teaching, for sure, but pretty simple, really.
And yet, people had a hard time figuring him out.
How did an uneducated craftsman from the sticks become such a compelling teacher, such a powerful healer?
Even Jesus’ closest friends usually didn’t really get it.
Instead, they jockeyed for the best seats in heaven.
They resisted the foot washing - and one even betrayed Jesus, maybe because he wanted to provoke Jesus into being the kind of king that people recognized and expected – the kind of king they thought they wanted.
Just a few days ago we remembered – and, in a small way, even reenacted -Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem.
The crowd sure was excited, shouting “Hosanna!” and placing their cloaks and palms along the way.
But even in this moment, which kind of looked like earthly glory, there were signs that maybe this palm parade wasn’t so triumphant, or not triumphant in the ways that everyone expected.
There was no military escort and no dignitaries gathered to greet the King.
And, instead of an imposing horse, this King rode a donkey.
Well, the mood quickly shifted – and maybe it was some of the same Hosanna-shouting, palm-waving people, who soon enough were shouting, “Crucify him!”
Let’s be done with this loser, this disappointment, this sad excuse for a king.
And Jesus, rejected and abandoned by just about everyone, poured out his life on the cross.
Emptiness.
Or so it seemed.
Speaking of emptiness, as I’ve been reflecting on this story from Jerusalem of two thousand years ago, I’ve been struck by the emptiness of most of the characters.
The religious authorities should have trusted in God but instead they were so afraid, afraid of the Romans, afraid of their own people, afraid of losing their positions of power and privilege.
In the gospels, Pontius Pilate is depicted as kind of wishy-washy but another ancient source indicates that he was ruthless, cruel even by the brutal standards of Rome.
And what did that cruelty get him? Worldly power for a while, yes, but forever remembered for executing the Son of God.
And the people, they seem to just follow whichever way the wind is blowing, welcoming Jesus and then quickly turning against him when they realize he’s not the king that they expected – not the kind of king they thought they wanted and needed.
And most of the disciples reveal their emptiness, too, faithless and disloyal, running away, abandoning, even denying, their friend and Lord in his time of need and suffering.
And, perhaps, if we were there two thousand years ago, we would have revealed our own emptiness, too.
On the cross, Jesus offers us his final teaching.
Jesus pours out his life – giving away all of it - in loving service to God the Father and to us.
Emptiness.
Or so it seemed.
Like those people in Jerusalem long ago, we’ve been through a lot.
We’ve been through a lot even in just the last few days.
And today we may be feeling quite empty.
But just wait.
For now, just wait at the foot of the cross.
And on this hard day and on all the hard days, remember:
God is never empty.
God is always full of life and love.
Life and love, shared with and through Jesus.
Life and love, shared with us.
Posts
