Sunday, October 15th's terrific message “The Hour of Darkness” by Rev. Toni Carmer continuing week 26 of a 31 week study of “The Story – The Bible as One Continuous Story of God and His People.”
The Hour of Darkness
Luke 23:44-49
First United Methodist Church, October 15, 2017
Pastor Toni L. Carmer
A gentleman in a former congregation would frequently observe that the church doesn't talk enough about sin. He had been a part of that United Methodist congregation most every Sunday since his marriage over 50 years ago, but he sorely missed the fire and brimstone sermons he heard in his early years. "Strike a little fear in their hearts," he would say, "that's what people need."
But I've never been convinced of that. I've never been convinced that fear is a good foundation for a good relationship with anybody, including God. That doesn't mean that we should ignore sin—which is rather hard to do. That doesn't mean that we should pretend sin doesn't exist, or that it doesn't really matter—because it does exist and it does matter.
I think God calls us into relationship through Jesus out of love. Love is the motivation for the invitation, and our response comes—not because we're too afraid to turn away from him—but because we want to turn toward the love that is being offered…the love that is always available to us whenever we're ready to receive it.
We're in the 26th chapter of The Story, entitled "The Hour of Darkness." Our reading this week includes stories from each of the gospel lessons, that take us from the Lord's Supper in the upper room and the night that we have come to call Maundy Thursday, through to the scripture that we read this morning, when Jesus dies on the cross. In between, over a period of less than 24 hours—there are stories of acceptance and rejection, disappointment and confusion, along with sudden moments of clarity as God's purposes are revealed.
We'll begin this morning with the story of the Lord's Supper. We're familiar with the story, as we repeat the words that Jesus said to his disciples whenever we share the bread and the juice together in Holy Communion. "This is my body, broken for you," Jesus said. "This is the blood of the new covenant, poured out for you."
We've heard the words repeated so often that we've gotten used to them. They most likely don't catch us in the same way as they did the disciples on that night when Jesus first spoke them to the disciples. Though maybe every now and then, they do.
Two weeks ago we sang "Come, Sinners, to the Gospel Feast.(let every soul be Jesus' guest…)" It's a familiar hymn to me, one I've been singing for years, one that I think is familiar to many of you, too. I've always loved it. But maybe because I saw it on the screen for the first time, instead of reading the words from out of my hymnal, there were two lines that really caught my attention. Verse 4 reads: "O taste the goodness of our God, and eat his flesh and drink his blood." I looked at those words as I sang them, and thought, wow, there's a reason there were those in the early church who thought we were cannibals. If the disciples took Jesus literally, if we read the words literally, it can be problematic. Shocking. But perhaps the greater meaning of Jesus giving his life, dying—his body broken and his blood shed—for the disciples and for all followers in all times, is even more amazing. More striking.
That's what Jesus was telling them—what he tells us—whenever we share communion together. We’re sitting around the table with Jesus and the other disciples…here in this place and in other places as well, as we receive the bread and we receive the cup. We who are many become one, we become part of the Body of Christ.
The gospel of John brings us another story, one we may have heard as well, but are often less comfortable with, as were the disciples when it happened. It was in the midst of a meal, possibly one occurring before the Passover meal, when Jesus got up, removed his outer clothing, and put a towel around his waist. He then put water into a basin and began washing his disciple's feet. Then, he dries them off with the towel.
This foot washing is something that a servant might do, as an act of hospitality offered to guests after a long journey in sandals on dusty roads. There are some writings that tell us that foot washing wasn't so much done by servants or slaves, but water would be brought to the guest so they could wash their own feet. But certainly, no one would expect their teacher to bend down in front of them with a basin of water.
It seems that Jesus washed several of the disciple's feet before coming to Peter, who says no, no thank you. I don't think so. But Jesus tells Peter that if he doesn't allow him to do this, he will have no part of Jesus, no part in the things that Jesus is doing. So Peter relents, "Alright then, wash my feet, my hands and my head, too!" He may not fully understand why Jesus is doing this, but he doesn't want to be separated from Jesus, doesn't want to be excluded from whatever it is that's happening. That much he does know.
When Jesus finishes washing their feet he tells the disciples that in the same way, they should wash one other's feet. "I have set an example that you should do as I have done for you." And then he repeats the words he has shared with them at other times: "Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them."
Jesus continues to teach the disciples, comforting them, reassuring them, encouraging them. The fact that he won't be with them much longer is becoming more apparent to the disciples…maybe they’re hearing it… But, whatever their understanding might be, Jesus knows, and he wants to give them all that he can before he goes. He wants to offer them words that will sustain them in the darkness that lies ahead. But he knows that it's more than they can understand. More than they can absorb. But they won't be alone: he tells them that the Spirit of Truth will come and will guide them. Jesus prays and they go to the garden of Gethsemane where they will continue to pray and wait.
Judas has already gone. We know that the disciples struggled in understanding who Jesus was, about what it meant for him to be Messiah—exactly how he would live out that role. We hear some of their voices in the midst of scripture, and others we don't. Judas will betray Jesus for 30 pieces of silver, but we don't know really, why he does that. Is it greed? I don't think so. Frustration? Maybe. Fear? Things were getting pretty intense by this time. The religious authorities are just waiting for a reason to put Jesus to death. All we do know is that Judas led the soldiers to Jesus in the Garden, betrayed him with a kiss, and then couldn't live with himself because of what he's done. I feel sad for him.
None of the disciples are able to hold up like they would like to in the garden. Jesus asks them to stay awake, to pray with him, but they keep falling asleep. The prayers of Jesus are fervent: is there another way? But ultimately, Jesus does as he always has: He humbles himself to God's will and way: Not my will but Thy will be done.
Jesus is arrested, and the disciples run away except for Peter, who follows the soldiers at a distance, as they take Jesus to the home of Caiaphas, the chief priest. Apparently there is a crowd of people inside, and Peter is among them as Jesus is interrogated. Jesus is quiet. Many false witnesses come forward, but they aren't able to provide the testimony that is needed to put him to death. Ultimately, Caiaphas stands up in frustration, "Are you not going to answer? What do you have to say? Tell us: Are you the Messiah, the Son of God?"
Jesus finally speaks: "That's what you say. And soon, you'll see it for yourself. The Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Mighty One, arriving on the clouds of heaven."
Caiaphas is done. He charges Jesus with blasphemy and the people call for his death.
Peter goes outside and sits in the courtyard. Someone builds a fire and people are sitting around. A servant girl looks at Peter and she recognizes him. She says to whoever is listening, "This man was with him."
He denies it. "Woman, I don't know him."
Later, someone else sees him. Recognizes him. "You're one of them."
"I am not!"
He's still there an hour later, and a third person recognizes him. Can tell he's a Galilean.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Peter says. The rooster crows and he realizes what he's done. Three times he has denied Jesus, just as Jesus said that he would.
Peter leaves the courtyard, goes outside and weeps bitterly.
The next morning Jesus is taken to Pilate who can find no reason to bring charges against him. He attempts to release him, but the people won't have it. He thinks that perhaps flogging Jesus may appease them, but it doesn't. He talks with Jesus who is either silent or doesn't give him the answers he is hoping for that will allow him to be set free. Pilate appeals to the Jewish leaders, to the crowds…and they're all insistent. This Jesus must die. Finally, he gives them what they want. Jesus is sentenced to death and handed over for crucifixion.
He is paraded through the streets on his way to Golgotha. The crowds who couldn't get enough of him just a short time ago hurl insults, throw things at him. He's been beaten severely and can't carry his cross for the full distance and so Simon from Cyrene is forced to carry it for him.
He's hung on the cross between two thieves, one who mocks him and the other who asks Jesus to remember him, when he comes into his kingdom. Jesus tells him that on this day, he will see him in paradise. Jesus looks down at all the people who are there…those who know him and love him…and, those who have abused him, mocked him, and says, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they're doing."
A Roman crucifixion was an ugly thing. It was meant as a deterrent to crime. It took hours for a person to die: hours of pain, hours of torment…for the one on the cross, and the loved ones who stood nearby, doing their best to stay strong, and to somehow offer whatever relief/care they could.
From noon till 3, we're told that darkness settled upon the land…and then, at the time of his death, the curtain of the temple tore in half, the earth shook, the rocks split and even tombs broke open…tombs that released the bodies of many holy people who had died. They were raised to life.
I don't know how all that happened. You and I can't explain it. But with the death of Jesus, something powerful and beyond our understanding, reached into the depths of the earth, reached into the depth of the human heart and soul.
Through the giving of his life, that curtain that was torn in the temple, removed any separation that once existed between ourselves and God. We can go directly to God because of Jesus. He is the final and ultimate sacrifice…and our sins are forgiven. Because of what Jesus did…for all of us.
Do you remember my friend who thought we needed to focus more on sin, so people could be “feared” back to God? When I remember the events of Jesus’ last week on earth, when I see his love and courage and faith and compassion and truthfulness, I know this:
I know the world is broken and doesn’t deserve the love and gift of Jesus. I know how far we fall short. But my friend was wrong, I think. It’s not the threat of judgment that drives us into the arms of God but it is the reality of grace and love we see at the table, with the bread and juice and servant’s towel, in the upper room and on the cross, that turns us towards God. It’s love.
Amen.
