Feeling the Absence of God: A Good Friday Sermon

 Maybe it's the difficulty of the times we're living in and just the constant sense of doom and gloom that hangs over the nation that I found myself really struggling to write a sermon for Good Friday. 

I mean, it's a day that commemorates the brutal killing of Jesus by the state. And we've witnessed in this country repeated killings...both through numerous executions carried out in Florida...and the extrajudicial taking of lives by ICE in major U.S. cities. Maybe it just all felt too raw and real for me to think through the Gospel of John's telling of the Passion to want to preach about it.

And so I turned to the Psalm...number 22..."My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?"

Because that's where I am at on so many days right now.

Text: Psalm 22, John 18:1-19:42

+++

“My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Those must be some of the loneliest words in all of Scripture.

Psalm 22 captures the lament of those who have been on the receiving end of human cruelty.

Each verse describing that sense of what it feels like to be innocent…and yet treated with disrespect and derision.

In other Gospel passages about the crucifixion….that first verse of the psalm are the only words we hear Jesus utter from the cross.

And we can imagine why this particular psalm…believed to be written by King David…would have been on Jesus’ mind at that moment.

Because…at that hour… the crucified Jesus was truly powerless.

He was vulnerable.

And he was scared.

He’s just like us.

It would be nice to think that…as Christians and people who believe in God… we pray all the time…and regularly stay in conversation with the Holy One.

But…at least it’s been in my experience…the times when we are the most likely to turn to God in prayer is when we’re in trouble.

We might put up those prayers like Anne Lamott: a very simple Help! Help! Help!

Get me out of this situation!

And when we’re in that place…of deep worry and fear…the worst feeling is to call out our prayer…and only hear crickets in return.

It’s one thing to feel abandoned by friends…and another when it’s your family.

But to feel the absence of God….that’s harsh.

The psalmist captures that depth of the hurt we feel when it seems God is silent:

“I am poured out like water;

All my bones are out of joint;

My heart within my breast is melting wax”? (14)

While John’s Gospel doesn’t have Jesus repeating that opening line of the psalm while he’s on the cross…the evangelist does reference it when talking about those who are gloating…and taking pleasure in his pain.

The indifference and lack of empathy from those inflicting the torture makes the point about the inhumanity that the psalmist observes.

All this tracks with the way that tyrants and bullies have always behaved…especially when challenged.

And certainly Jesus posed a threat to the Roman Empire.

He has been flipping over tables in the marketplace of the Temple and exposing the whole system as corrupt and oppressive.

He’s been chastised for healing sick people…giving them the agency to walk…and to see…and leading them toward the God of Love.

He conversed with a Samaritan woman…and treated her with the dignity denied to her by others…breaking down the rift between cultures.

And when Pontius Pilate…an agent of the state known for his ruthlessness… demanded to know “What is truth?” Jesus didn’t dignify the question of his bully with an answer.

Because Jesus wouldn’t obey…because he refused to bend the knee…and kept encouraging others to see in themselves their worth in the eyes of God…he was put to death.

This pattern has been repeated throughout history.

In our own country…the black Christian theologian James Cone has challenged us to see in the cross the lynching tree…and to accept that Jesus was the first victim of such brutal hatred.

Cone sees in Jesus the body of victims of racism…the people killed for simply existing in black skin and having the audacity to think that they could live their lives in peace alongside white people.

Cone extends this out to all those who are the marginalized “others” mocked…scorned…and dehumanized by the dominant culture.

And there’s been plenty of that going around lately.

Neighbors turning on neighbors….and arrests of innocent people for the crime of being black or brown and speaking another language.

The memes passed around on social media laughing at the idea of sending people to the swampy Everglades to be alligator food.

There’s no escaping the truth of what Good Friday and the cross stood for then…and now.

It is a collision between those who choose force as a means to threaten and dominate others…acting as “the packs of dogs” who encircle those they see as “weak”…and the ones who choose power with others…non-violence… and don’t provide answers to empty questions.

Which is why it makes sense that some of our Gospel writers have Jesus turning to Psalm 22 in this critical moment at the end of his earthly life.

And we can imagine Jesus praying through the whole thing as he is dying.

Because while the psalm captures all that is wrong with what is happening in the moment…and expresses lament for the inhumanity of the situation he’s in…it also has language that provides a source of comfort and hope…that God will hear his cry and will meet him in this hour of need.

This is why when people ask me what book of the Bible I would recommend they read…I always cite the Book of Psalms.

Psalm 22 not only expresses the grief and the fear of the abyss…it’s also a life ring of promise in what is a hopeless situation…and trusts in a God who will respond to the brokenhearted.  Hear these words:

“Praise the Lord, you that fear him”

“I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him”

I can even think that Jesus clung to the psalmist echoing the sentiments that his mother declared to Elizabeth during her pregnancy:

“God does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty,…but when they cry to him, he hears them. The poor shall eat and be satisfied, and those who seek the Lord shall praise him.”

The psalmist names our pains…and doubts…and yet keeps turning back to God…believing that despite it all…God is hearing our pleas.

Did God abandon Jesus on the cross?

No…

God was there throughout…in the same way that God is with us…in us…and around us in our moments of distress as well as our joys.

Through Jesus…God has moved closer to our existence…and our struggles against the most powerful forces that try to keep us down.

Through our faith and trust in God…we can survive and weather the storms that come at us…even in these most trying times.

One day…we too…like the psalmist…will be able to speak confidently to the saving deeds that God has done.

And we will be able to declare that our times of distress are finished.

In the name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

We Shall Overcome: A Palm Sunday Sermon

 It has been a while since I've posted my sermons. That's how busy these past several weeks have been. And so let's get back in the saddle, so to speak, and share the sermons from Palm Sunday through Easter ( my seminarian preached Maundy Thursday and did it as Jesus having his internal monologue on how to say good-bye).

There was a particularly providential occurence this Palm Sunday. The day before was the third No Kings protest across the nation (and globe, for that matter), denouncing our U.S. administration and its steep turn toward authoritarianism. While I chose not to go head on into comparing the reasons for these increasingly large gatherings and the message that we don't like dictators with Jesus's ride into Jerusalem...No Kings was very much on my mind as I wrote this sermon. Maybe it was on your mind, too. See what you think.

Please note: I did NOT preach on the Passion of Christ from Matthew's Gospel. And if there is anyone with any influence over the lectionary reading these posts, please send a message to the church that we should be sticking to PALM SUNDAY and not slapping us with GOOD FRIDAY at the same service.

Text: Matthew 21:1-11

+++

Please be seated.

I know I’ve said this before and I am going to say it again: I wish the church didn’t assign the Passion Gospel for Palm Sunday.

OK…end of critique of the lectionary.

I want us to take a breath in…and breathe out…do that again…and once more….

That act of breathing is the means of calming the nervous system down…and resetting us…as we take a moment to rewind the tape of this morning…and go back to that entry into Jerusalem…with Jesus riding into the city on a donkey.

Because that march into Jerusalem is an important part of this story…and we shouldn’t race past it.

It holds symbolic meaning both back then when it happened…and it remains very relevant for us now.

If you want…pull out that Gospel lesson from your bulletin...and let’s do a quick refresher.

Jesus and his disciples are at the Mount of Olives….which is to the east of Jerusalem.

He tells a couple of them to go into Bethphage and get a donkey and a colt.

Now…this is actually a humorous point…and we had some discussion about this in our Midrash class the other night.

Matthew quotes “the prophet” but actually he’s taking words from both Isaiah and Zechariah about predictions of who will be coming to save them from their occupiers. What Matthew didn’t understand was the poetic language of Zechariah…that their king would be humbly riding on a young donkey…a colt…not that there would be a donkey AND a colt.

Always important to remember that Scripture should be taken seriously…but not literally.

The crowds are gathering…they’re shouting “Hosanna!” which means “Save us!”

“Save us, Jesus, from this oppression!”

“Save us, Jesus, from this tyranny!”

What we don’t hear in this account of Matthew is what’s happening on the other side of the city.

Pontius Pilate…who by historical accounts was a brutal and inflexible Roman Governor…was coming with the Roman Army from Caesarea Maritima…on the west side of Jerusalem.

The Roman Empire…which occupied Jerusalem…and stretched from points in Europe…Africa…and Asia…had no tolerance for upstarts challenging the authority of the Emperor.

And so it was customary that when a major Jewish festival such as Passover was coming…Rome would want to exert control.

Passover was a particularly tense time.

Jews from all over would be gathering and remembering the story of their liberation from slavery in Egypt.

Pilate would ride into Jerusalem in his chariot…his soldiers descending on the city with their spears and their war horses…to make sure the Jews of Jerusalem didn’t get some wild idea of rioting against their newest Pharaoh.

Jesus knew this was the routine.

And so his entry into Jerusalem wasn’t a coincidence.

This was an intentional action.

It was provocative…and it was a signal to Rome: We Shall Overcome.

Tyranny will not win.

There is another kingdom…a better reality.

Jesus was demonstrating to the people that there was an alternative to their world ruled by fear and intimidation…and this reality has come closer…and is right now.

It has come on a donkey…with crowds cheering and throwing coats and palm branches on the road.

This parade coming from the East was loud….more raucous than the precision march of the Roman Army.

A desperate and demoralized people have poured out onto the streets…looking to Jesus as the answer to their prayer!

Hosanna Son of David!

Hosanna to the highest heaven!

And while some welcomed the arrival of Jesus…with their shouting and singing his praises…we see in this story that his march into Jerusalem caused turmoil.

In fact…the Greek root for that “turmoil” is “seismo”…as in seismic…just like the earthquake that would shake the city at the death of Jesus.

Seems when Jesus shows up…things get shaken up.

And that’s the importance of this story.

When Jesus draws near and becomes manifest…it causes not only shifts in the earth…he challenges our very being to shift and change.

We see it in the Passion reading with the wife of Pontius Pilate.

While her husband is holding the fate of Jesus in his hands…she’s begging him not to have nothing to do with ‘that innocent man.’

Clearly…there’s something about Jesus that has rattled even her…a Gentile.

If only Pilate the politician had listened to the woman…how different things would have been.

He rattles those who want to keep the status quo…those who don’t want to make waves…and just go along to get along.

When the crowd assembles in front of Pilate….it is a convenient and curated gathering of those who would have been allowed into his courtyard.

When they cried out “His blood be on us and on our children!”—a phrase that has been twisted by Christians into a dangerously antisemitic trope—they had no idea that the blood he would be shedding would redeem them…and the whole world.

Jesus has a way of disrupting and disturbing us out of our hum drum ways.

He is the reminder to us that we should not live our lives based on the premise of doing what is good for me…and not for thee.

He tugs on those invisible cords that remind us that we are only one part of the creative order…and we must care for the world around us…the people…the plants…and the animals.

And when Jesus enters…as that king…triumphant and riding on the foal of a donkey…he is defying the idea we have of kings and Emperors…and is establishing that true power is not held by the political and religious elites: it belongs to the people.

What a message to have in our country today.

A vision of resilience and resistance to those who claim supremacy by force…by holding a procession in the name of love, compassion, and mercy.

That life force is still with us…and it is still facing sometimes violent opposition.

But it keeps summoning us to join the battle against brutality…and walk in the way of love.

May this Holy Week be a reminder to us to stick with Love because Love is the way…the truth…and the life.

In the name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.