Isaiah 52:13-53:12

Psalm 22:1-11

Philippians 2:5-11

LUKE 22:39-23:56

Sermon – April 1, 2007

Jesus met a lot of people whose lives were a mess. Some of them knew it; some were in denial.

The majority of the Sanhedrin, the official council of Jewish religious leaders in Jerusalem, voted to condemn Jesus and to take him to Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator who alone had the power to order an official government–sanctioned execution. While those “leaders,” as Luke called them, may have said they believed in the coming of the Messiah, having the actual Messiah actually show up threatened their power and prestige, on which they had built their lives. Having someone in his, Pilate’s, hands who could be labeled “the King of the Jews” clearly threatened the Roman authority which Pilate represented.

So clearly both groups had an interest in “cleaning up” this “Jesus mess” as quickly as possible – by two hurried, mock “trials” without defense attorneys held in the middle of the night, followed by the usual torture and the usual means of execution, and burial less than 24 hours after Jesus was apprehended. Swift and certain punishment, that was the way to “send a message.” That was the way to clean up this mess – faster and easier, in fact, than some of Jesus’ opponents might have dared hope.

Some of Jesus’ opponents might have thought that their lives were anything but a mess. They were the righteous ones, defending the established order against this troublemaker who kept inspiring, healing and blessing the common people. And what of the soldiers who actually whipped Christ, force-marched him through Jerusalem and finally pounded the nails into his hands and feet onto the cross? Well, they were doing what they were trained to do, ordered to do, as they had dozens of times before – indeed, to two others that same Friday. Just doing their jobs, just following orders.

Perhaps they were in denial that being professional torturers made their lives a mess. Perhaps the majority of the Sanhedrin were in denial that they might be terribly, terribly wrong. Pontius Pilate tried to wash his hands of responsibility, but his hands, like those of the rest of them, could not be washed.

After reaching out in love and power to so many hurting, oppressed and powerless people during his life, Christ’s very first words from the cross – the first thing he says after having been nailed and hung up to die – is addressed to the powerful, to all those responsible for his execution: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

This is perhaps the most radical thing Jesus ever says. Forgive – even them? Some ancient manuscripts of Luke even omit these words, as though the copyists found them too hard to even write. But there they are: “Father, forgive them.”

Their lives, whether they knew it or not, were a mess. Denial, hate and violence could only be met by forgiveness; otherwise it would breed more denial, more hate, and more violence.

Forgiveness gave Jesus’ bitterest opponents liberation from divine punishment for great evil, and a second chance, to be used in ways good or bad.

If we ever find that we ourselves have zealously, vigorously, pursued a course of action which we come to realize is terribly wrong, may we hear these words ourselves: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” That great forgiveness can be ours, too.

And it can be ours for things which we are merely complicit in, evils which we have failed to oppose; the world’s many messes which we have denied are our responsibility to do anything about. I know, now I’m casting a much wider net. When we confess our sins, we confess that we have sinned “by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.”

There is so, so much that we have left undone – so many messes in the world – that if we really think about that prayer of confession, we may either cry, or get scared. What if God holds us accountable?

So let us hear these great words again: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

And then there are those who are not in denial – or not any longer – that their lives are a mess. Such was the state of the two criminals crucified on either side of Jesus. I guess being crucified would at least break down someone’s denial that their life was a mess!

But while both criminals acknowledged that their lives were a mess, only one was mature enough to take responsibility for his own actions, devout enough to believe that Jesus would come into a Kingdom – something that took real faith at that moment, and humble enough to ask simply to be remembered.

He asks for a scrap from the table and gets Thanksgiving Dinner. Jesus says to him, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” In an instant, the overpowering messiness of his life is transformed. “Today, you shall be with me in Paradise.”

Life is messy. And our lives, all of our lives, have been touched by the messiness, the brokenness of sins, by sins we have done and by good things we have neglected to do, and by the sins of omission and commission of others. Our sinful and broken world is, in fact, one giant spiritual “Superfund” site, a toxic waste dump which touches all of our lives.

There is only one thing to do.

To take all of the messiness, brokenness, sinfulness of our lives, and those of the whole world, and to lay them at the foot of the cross.

That is the only way to clean up the spiritual “Superfund” site. The blood of Christ shed on the cross transforms the poisons in our souls by the healing power of his forgiveness. And as we step out of denial and into responsibility, stop making ourselves out to be our own lords and call him Lord, and humbly turn to him and simply ask to be remembered, Easter may truly come to us, with its awesome empowerment for wonderful new life here and now, and for our final tomorrow, Paradise.

(The Rev.) Francis A. Hubbard

St. Barnabas Episcopal Church

Monmouth Junction, New Jersey