Psalm 118: 1–2, 19–29; Matthew 21: 1–11; Isaiah 50: 4–9a;
Psalm 22: 1–11; Philippians 2: 5–11; Matthew 26: 14 – 27: 66
This is a homily given
by Fr. Gene Tucker at St. John’s in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on Sunday, April 9,
2017.
“THIS
IMPORTANT WEEK: WHAT’S DIFFERENT ABOUT IT?”
Last
Thursday, at a meeting of area clergy with Bishop Scanlan, we got to talking
about our planning for Holy Week and Easter. One of our number expressed how
deeply he fell into grief on Good Friday. Judging from the expression on his
face and the emotion that was apparent in his voice, we could all tell that he
felt deeply, very deeply, about the tragic events of Good Friday. The intensity
of his feeling was such that we almost got the sense that he was there –
through the eyes of faith – to witness the Lord’s passion and death.
Christians
down through time have observed this coming week with deep devotion. It’s not
impossible to think that the first Apostles gathered on the first anniversary
of the Lord’s death to remember all the events that took place then, all the
way from the Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, to His institution of the
Lord’s Supper, to His suffering and death, to His burial in the tomb, to His
glorious resurrection.
Even
today, many Christians devote themselves to gathering together, to the washing
of feet on Maundy Thursday, to the veneration of the cross on Good Friday, and
to watchful expectation at the Easter Vigil on Saturday night. Along the way,
vigils are often held on Maundy Thursday and/or on Good Friday. In earlier
times, the Easter Vigil lasted all night long, into the dawning of the new day
on Easter morning.
So
this week is different for all Christian believers.
And
yet, for all its uniqueness and for all its importance to us and our salvation,
many, if not most, of the events of this week weren’t all that unusual for the
time in which our Lord lived 2,000 years ago.
Let’s
explore what might well have been commonplace about the events we remember this
week:
Crucifixion: Was, most
likely and most unfortunately, a fairly common event. That the Lord was
crucified at a place called the Place of a Skull[1] is
evidence that the place where the events of Good Friday took place was a known
place of execution. The Romans[2] used
crucifixion as a method of state-sponsored-terrorism, for a Roman citizen was
exempted from such a fate: The victims of crucifixion were slaved and conquered
peoples (like the Jews). Crucifixion was a means whereby anyone who would
challenge Roman rule was deterred by the prospect of finding themselves on a
cross of their own. It may even be that there was a “regular” day for
crucifixions, to which the inhabitants of Jerusalem could go to watch the
spectacle. If there was a designated day for executions, that does not seem to
apply in Jesus’ case, for the Chief Priests seem intent on getting rid of
Jesus, and seem to be rushed to see Him dead before the eve of the Passover
observance begins.
Roman
cruelty: Pontius Pilate, who ruled Judea as Governor
for ten years (26 -36 AD), was known for his cruelty.[3] Jesus
mentions one of his cruel acts: In Luke 13: 1, Jesus mentions that Pilate had
mixed the blood of some of his victims with offerings to pagan deities.
The
Roman Governor’s chief task: Was
to keep the lid on things in Judea. The reason is obvious: There was the
constant threat of insurrection among the Jewish people. One of the four main
groups of the Jews was known as the Zealots, whose purpose seems to have been
the violent overthrow of Roman rule. In succeeding years, attempts to
overthrown Roman rule resulted in the Jewish-Roman War (66 – 70 AD), and in the
Bar Kochba Revolt (135 AD). In Jesus’ time, however, the Book of Acts (5: 36 –
37) records two such insurrections: One
by a man named Theudis and another by Judas the Galilean.
Roman “justice”: The Romans made significant contributions to
the people who would come onto the scene in later times. They made
contributions to architecture and to law, to cite just two areas. And yet, the
account of Jesus’ trial shows that justice could be perverted. In Jesus’ case,
it was mob rule and the threat of a riot beginning that prompted Pilate to
release Jesus to be crucified. (Remember the point just made about the need to
maintain Roman authority.) In Jesus’ case, the “tail was wagging the dog”. So
it probably wasn’t all that unusual for a Jew (who had no legal rights under
Roman law) to be “railroaded” by the clamor of the crowds, or to be unjustly
condemned by the Roman Governor who regarded those under his rule with
contempt.
But,
despite the possibility that the events of Jesus’ trial, His suffering and
death aren’t all that unusual, this week – as we said at the outset – is deeply
significant to Christians the world over. Despite the fact that it would be
tempting to fast-forward to Easter Sunday morning, for the events of Good
Friday end marvelously (uniquely) well with Jesus’ rising from the dead on
Easter Sunday, Christians deliberately pause to spend time at the foot of the
cross.
There
is, for some, a deep, emotional attachment to the Lord’s passion. Recall the
expression of deep grief that one of my clergy colleagues expressed this last
Thursday.
Why
this attachment, this emotional attachment? After all, the events of that first
Good Friday are nearly 2,000 years old. These events qualify as ancient
history. And yet, the events are – for some – as vivid as they were the first
time.
Let’s
explore these feelings and this attachment a bit.
Love
for Jesus: If we doubt the depth of our love for Jesus,
try considering the ways we might feel about the suffering of the two thieves
who were crucified with Him. It’s entirely possible that all three men were
nailed to their respective crosses (despite what some artistic representations
of the event depict). Do we find ourselves connected to the sufferings of the
two thieves[4]
in the way we are connected to the Lord’s suffering? I think it’s a question
worth exploring as we meditate on the meaning of Good Friday.
Our
identification with the Lord’s suffering and death: I think the sort of
grief that was expressed this past week stems from a deep and personal
identification with Jesus. We are there with Him in all of these events,
eyewitnesses – through the eyes of faith – to these things. Some Christians
adopt a very pietistic approach: Pietism[5] invites
us to see our direct role, through our sinfulness, to the reasons for the
Lord’s suffering and death. Put another way, for the Pietist, it is our sin,
our personal sin – and no one else’s – that bring Jesus to the cross.
The
depth of the Lord’s conviction and commitment: One of the things
that impressed Pilate was Jesus’ unwillingness to cower in the face of Roman
terror. Most victims would have done nearly anything to save themselves from
the fate of crucifixion. But Jesus does not. Moreover, He makes it clear that
He could command forces far more powerful than the Romans to prevent His death.[6] So the
Lord’s suffering and death come because He willingly allowed those things to
happen.
The
Lord’s continuing gift of Himself: In the institution of the Lord’s Supper, we
are given ongoing evidence of the Lord’s continuing presence with us under the
forms of the Eucharist, the bread and the wine. “This is my body, this is my
blood,” He says. The Eucharist is a remembrance (in the sense of re-membering:
putting it all together again) of the Lord’s death. For this reason, the fair
linen on the altar has five crosses on it, recalled the five wounds the Lord
suffered. So, in a real sense, we are never far away from the sacrifice of the
Lord on Good Friday. But we are never far from the Lord’s rising on Easter
Sunday morning, either, for the Lord specifically tells us that, in the
Eucharist, He is present with us until He comes again in glory.
We
are invited to walk the way of the cross as the week before us unfolds, finding
the way of the cross to be none other than the way of life and peace.
AMEN.
[1] Some biblical scholars think that the name
of the place may have been due to the fact that previous crucifixion victims’
bones and skull were simply scattered about the place, lying in the open.
[2] The Romans, though they made extensive use
of this method of capital punishment, didn’t invent this way of killing people.
That distinction (?) belongs to ancient times. For example, the ancient
Persians, some five centuries before Christ, made use of it.
[3] Some scholars think that Pilate was removed
from office because he made use of cruel means too often or too harshly.
[4] I can’t prove this, but my hunch is that the
two thieves were last minute victims. Perhaps Pilate decided not to single
Jesus out too much, and so sent word to the soldiers to round up some others to
make their way to Golgotha. The basis for this belief lies in the fact that
Jesus died before the two thieves did. But Jesus was severely flogged before He
was nailed to the cross. So perhaps there wasn’t time to flog the two thieves,
meaning that their vigor hadn’t been sapped like Jesus’ was.
[5] Pietism flourished in the 17th
and 18th centuries. The great German composer J. S. Bach’s works for
the church are infused with Pietistic sensitivities. Pietism influenced the
early Methodist movement, and also the Anabaptist traditions of the Amish,
Mennonites, Church of the Brethren and others.
[6] In Matthew 26: 53, He tells the disciples
that, if He simply asked, the Father would send “twelve legions of angels”
(72,000 angels!) to prevent His being handed over to the Romans.
