Sermon - I Crucified Thee

“Welcome to 60 Church Street, the podcast of Trinity Episcopal Church in Asheville, North Carolina. We're glad you're listening along.

In the name of the blessed Trinity, Amen.

I say it was forgiveness that got him into trouble in the first place. It was the way that he gathered all of those good-for-nothing people around them that made everybody so darned mad. They wouldn't want to admit it, of course, but he knew it.

He knew that that's what really burned them all up. He even told a story about it, if you remember. The one about the man who had two sons, the younger one took his inheritance early and threw it away on wine, women, and things such as that.

In no time, he was at rock bottom and found himself starving among the pigs when I think he probably deserved it. But no, somehow, he got this idea that if he just went back to his father, he could be taken in as a servant. Here's the kicker.

He goes back and he's taken in, but not as a ervant, as a son. The old man runs out to greet him and throws his arms around him, and throws a party in his honor. Now, anybody in their right mind, that this sort of thing is going to get you into trouble.

It's going to tick off a whole lot of people . You can't do things like that There have to be consequences in life.

Everybody knows that. That son made his bed. He should lie in it.

That's what I think. And so did the older brother, by the way. It really burned him up that his father would acknowledge his brother, let alone celebrate his return.

And what's your reward: You get the joy of seeing your knuckle-headed brother get a party. Well, some days, I think I'd rather burn in hell than see that happen

You mark my words, there's a lot of older brothers out there. That's what this Jesus didn't understand. That's what got him struggling up on a cross today.

It was just to much, I tell you. Watching him welcome all these riff-raffles, illegals and refugees into his company, sitting down at table with them, telling them that God loved them. I mean, these people were rejected for a reason.

They sold their souls one way or another. They sold it for money and power and sex probably. Surely, I know in some cases, they might not could have helped it, but that's just too bad.

You cant't have this sort of thing in a decent society. That's the bottom line. There've got to be standards.

He said he had one standard, and he talked about it all of the time, so much that it was obnoxious. He said it was love. Love one another as I have loved you.

That's what motivated him. That's what inspired everything he did. He called it a love so deep, and it was pouring out for everyone.

When he came into town, everybody believed him. You could just see it. Nothing, you can't really put your finger on it, but just saying it.

All the hopeless people had a smile on their face. Broken and divided families and communities seem to be reconnected. The poor who were being oppressed by the Romans, who had been reduced to nothing, he seemed to give them dignity.

He told them that they are sons and daughters of God. Imagine that. Crippled people and blind people and lepers, and these immigrants, and these refugees.

He just refused to make them outcasts. He touched and healed them, and he brought them into his group. Like I said, forgiveness was at the heart of what he did, and repentance too, it seems.

But it was different. It's not that he demanded repentance in order to get forgiveness. That's what got him into trouble.”

He gave people new life, it seemed, and they lived into it. He gave it to them first, and then they wanted to follow. There was no propationary period.

There was no, let's see if you've earned it. That's what burned me up and everybody else. Those who followed him, they all called themselves part of a kingdom of God.

Just the way they were. Lots of people laughed at it, especially the people who thought that they had the right to say who's who and who's in and who's out and what's what. I mean, he was just a carpenter.

And it's mainly these peasant folks that he welcomed.

But, it was all sorts of people in the end. That's what I noticed. Some of them did it in secret.

Pharisees, landowners, people in positions of power, even some Romans, they were all drawn to this spirit of forgiveness and reconciliation, communion with God, they called it, and with other people. But I'm telling you, there's a lot of older brothers out there. The truth is, a lot of prodigal sons, too.

It's surprising how they all need forgiveness. It's almost as if we all do. That was his attraction, I think.

This forgiveness, he seemed to be able to sense when people needed it. He seemed to be able to sense that everybody needed it. He seemed to know how complex we are, how the whole world is caught up in patterns of revenge, violence, anger, hatred, guilt, and the remorse that goes on and on and on, generation after generation after generation.”

I think when it was needed most, he was offering a way out, offering a way out. I might tell you that there were moments where I wished I had taken it. He seemed to practice this forgiveness all of the time.

Turn the other cheek, he said. Go the extra mile. If someone takes your coat, give them your shirt as well.

Sure, I mean, gosh, isn't this just crazy? Think of it, the world like that. This is a world where might makes right.

But in his presence, it seemed to work. I've seen people paralyzed by anger and rage and torn apart by guilt and remorse. And with him, they gave it up.

Once they brought a real paralyzed man to him and there were so many people around him, they dropped him through a hole in the roof and they put him right at his feet. And everyone expected this Jesus to say something and wave his hands over him and do something special. But no, he just looked at the man for a long time.

He looked at him as if he knew everything about him.

And then he just put his hand on his shoulder and said quietly, My son, your sins are forgiven. And the man started to cry. And then without a word, he picked up his mat and he walked off under his own steam.

It's as if he symbolized the whole world. All of us paralyzed and sick. All of us unable to get out of our cells, our hatreds, our centuries of war and tribes and self-serving protection.

Believe me, I know what it looks like here in Judea, how much bitterness is brought out of all that stuff. We really all need to get out of bed, I think. But we can't do it ourselves.

And that's what I think he understood. That's why so many people came to follow him, I think. He understood that our sickness didn't have to do with our politics or economy or anything else.

Oh, all those things play a part of it, I think. But at the bottom, he seemed to know that our sickness was just plain sin, as they say, a cancer of our soul, an estrangement from God. In lots of ways, it was just not knowing God at all.

And that's what they said when he healed the paralyzed man, by the way. Who is this guy that he can forgive sins? That's God's job.

Forgiveness of sins is for God alone. This guy's got a mighty opinion of himself. He thinks he's God.

But who would want a God like that? We don't want a God that will heal and forgive. We want a God who will stick up for our side.

One that will put down our opponent, vindicate our point of view. We want a God who has a sense of proportion to life. But this guy, Jesus, he showed an uncalculating love, as he said.

He said that God makes the sun to shine on the evil and the good. He makes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust. He said God will go to the very depths of hell for us.

No, I don't think we can have a God like that. It's just too much.

And that's why I betrayed him. We all betrayed him. And there he hangs on the cross, convicted, not by the rabble rousers or the illegals or the refugees, convicted by law and order, combined with established religion.

I ought to know. I saw it all. I was there.

And even as I drove the nails into his hands and his feet, he kept on saying, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Amen.”

“Thanks for listening to 60 Church Street, a podcast of Trinity Episcopal Church in Asheville, North Carolina. Now, go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

The homily was offered by The Reverend Dr. R. Scott White, Rector of Trinity Episcopal Church.

Introductory and closing reflections were shared by The Reverend Amy Peterson.

Musical contributions were provided by Dr. Kevin Seal.

Sermon audio was prepared by Nanette Popa.

Production for this episode was led by Karen Marie Frederiksen.