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April 2, 2010,
GOOD FRIDAY, All Souls' Episcopal Church
Then said he,
Lo, I come to do thy will, O God.
(Hebrews 10:9)
We
pay attention when someone we love is about to die. As
we remain with them during the last few hours and
minutes of their earthly life we tend to take note and
remember vividly what it was they did and said up until
and including the time of death. That devotion to detail
is evident in the accounts of the death of our Lord
Jesus. The passion narratives are long readings
precisely because the writers would leave nothing out,
seeing every detail as laden with meaning, every moment
precious. We are told that he was made to bear the very
instrument of his execution – his cross - uphill to the
place where we killed him, and so he carries the cross
just as surely as he has bourn our grief and carried our
sorrows. We are told as well that before he was made to
carry his cross we tortured him.
The horrible, painful, flogging with a whip must have
done extreme damage to his body, and especially his
back, and yet, strictly speaking, that wasn’t torture;
that was a form of corporal punishment which Pilate
ordered thinking it might placate the angry mob, but
that was to no avail because we would settle for nothing
but death; only his death would bring us, the angry mob,
satisfaction.
The torture consisted in the mocking, covering his head
so he could not see and then hitting him and saying:
“Tell us, prophet, who hit you?” The torture also
consisted of dressing him up in kingly robes of royal
purple, slapping a crown of thorns on his head, and
making fun of him by bowing to him and calling him a
king, and spitting on him before leaving him naked and
exposed. According to a manual on the subject:
The purpose of all torture is
to induce psychological regression in the subject by
bringing a superior outside force to bear on his will to
resist. Regression is basically a loss of autonomy, a
reversion to an earlier behavioral level. As the subject
regresses, his learned personality traits fall away in
reverse chronological order. Psychologically, torture
often creates a state where the mind works against the
best interests of the individual, due to the inducement
of such
emotions as
shame,
worthlessness, and dependency.
A
person's sense of self can be shattered. The tortured
often have nothing familiar to hold on to:
family, home,
personal belongings, loved ones,
language.
Torture can rob the subject of the most basic modes of
relating to
reality, and
thus can be the equivalent of cognitive death.
They were trained to kill his body and his spirit as
well, but they had never tortured anyone like Jesus;
never tried to induce feelings of shame, worthlessness,
and dependency in someone who just hours earlier had
literally divested himself of all signs of authority,
knelt down as the lowliest slave, and washed the feet of
his disciples. How can you peel away the sense of
autonomy of one who is one with God? They could not
reduce to cognitive death one who said, “No one takes my
life from me; I lay it down,” and “Not my will but thine
be done.”
After all this; after the whipping, after the torture,
after the exhausting ascent under the weight of the
cross, after nails tearing through flesh, his first
words are words of forgiveness. His first words are
those of an intercessor, praying for the very ones who
were doing all this to him. His first words tell us what
this is all about; what all this is for: “Father,
forgive them, they know not what they do.” Forgiveness
does not presume justice but justice presumes
forgiveness.
Forgiveness presumes only love, a love which seeks to
overcome duality and achieve a more perfect union which
is relational; fusion without confusion. We sometimes
tell ourselves forgiveness is conditional but that is
only because we have no intention of forgiving in the
first place. Forgiveness does not presume justice, but
justice always presumes forgiveness. Justice is
concerned with more than mere crime and punishment; it
aims for the union of rightly ordered communion and
therefore presumes what the Orthodox author, Thomas
Hopko, calls the forgiveness which says we will carry
on in a spirit of love living in communion one with
another, not allowing what was done in the past to
poison our future together.
There are a number of metaphors which illustrate how the
sacrifice of Christ brings about reconciliation and
fulfills all justice. The Bible speaks of Christ’s death
as the great atonement sacrifice in which the perfect
lamb is perfectly offered once and for all by the
perfect high priest. Scripture speaks as well of
Christ’s death as a ransom paid for us. We are also told
that Christ Jesus is the new Adam, the new man ushering
in a new creation of which he himself is the first early
harvest. We are told as well that Christ Jesus paid the
price for our sins. St. Paul writes: “God made
him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we
might become the righteousness of God.” St. Peter writes
that “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree.”
This is what we refer to in the Prayer of Consecration
when we speak of a “full, perfect, and sufficient
sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction.” I would like to
focus upon these last two metaphors.
St.
Paul calls our Lord Jesus “the new Adam, or, “the new
man.” The early Church Fathers thought deeply about how
Christ, the new Adam, in contrast to the old Adam, lived
his life in perfect obedience and union with God. The
theologian we most associate with expounding upon all
this is Peter Abelard, a twelfth century philosopher. It
is sometimes called “the exemplary theory of atonement.”
We see this understanding in the Prayer Book Collect for
Palm Sunday in which we thank the God who “sent our
Savior Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh, and to
suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind should
follow the example of his great humility.” The Epistle
lesson which then follows is from the second chapter of
Philippians
in which we are told of how Christ Jesus took upon him
“the form of a servant and became obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross,” with the admonition, “Let
this mind be in you.” The old Adam, or “the old man” was
created on the sixth day of the week, a Friday. The old
Adam disobeyed God in the garden. It was very early on a
Friday when our Lord Jesus, the new Adam, was in a
garden where he was perfectly obedient, praying in agony
and bloody sweat, “not my will, but thine be done.” The
disobedience of the old Adam led him to the tree. The
obedience of our new Adam led him to the “tree of the
cross.” His was a perfect human life, perfectly lived
and perfectly offered.
The
teaching that our Lord Jesus Christ paid the price of
our sins and suffered and died on our behalf was best
summed up and explained by St. Anselm, the Eleventh
Century theologian and Archbishop of Canterbury. This
view teaches us that sin incurs a debt which must be
paid. Only someone who had not sinned and therefore was
not in debt could pay that debt on our behalf. This
understanding assumes justice.
If I
defrauded someone or destroyed someone’s property I
would be hugely relieved and grateful if they just waved
it off and said, “It’s okay; it’s covered.” And yet, I
would still want to pay things back somehow, to make
restitution. I wouldn’t feel complete and whole
otherwise. It would give me a sense of satisfaction.
The
understanding of the atonement which
Anselm helped us comprehend argues that the long, moral
arc of the universe not only bends toward justice but
cries out for it as well. The Law as it is understood in
the Bible does not consist merely of a list of rules
written on parchment. It acknowledges that as there is
for every action in the physical world an equal and
opposite reaction, so something similar exists in the
spiritual realm, and that any action or attitude is of a
sinful nature which is not based upon the loving
kindness of God, which does not flow from the spirit of
the love of God, which is not reflective of the
wholeness which lies beyond opposites. This
understanding of the atonement does not present a
picture of God simply waving off our offense. Nor does
this present a picture of God filling in for us; doing
for us what we could not do for ourselves. God loves us
more than that. Instead, God sends us the perfect man
who can offer the perfect sacrifice for his fellow human
beings for all of time. He is one of us. Jesus is one of
us. He is our friend. He is our brother. He is our own
flesh and blood. That is his mother over there by the
cross weeping, doubled over in grief as if a sword is
piercing her very soul. He is one of us. He is her son.
He is one of us. That’s who God sends to deliver us. He
sends us one of us because he loves us so much.
Our Lord Jesus can make the perfect offering for us once
and for all of time because his human nature had perfect
integrity; it was fully and completely whole. He didn’t
owe anything to anybody. He hadn’t defrauded anyone. He
was in no one’s debt. When he began his public ministry
following his baptism he resisted every temptation to
allow anything, even the whole world, to come between
God and him. There is no part of our Lord’s life which
he would look back on and say, “Oh, I hope they don’t
find out about that.” Instead, he is able to make the
perfect offering precisely because he is exemplary. (You
can’t have Anselm without Abelard.) Our Lord Jesus had
complete custody of his life. No one and no thing
exercised control over him. He did not share joint
custody with sin of any kind. He had complete custody
and was therefore able to make a complete offering.
Our perfect and eternal savior, our Lord Jesus Christ,
has two natures. He has a human nature and a divine
nature. His divine nature is the one undivided God. His
divine nature is substantially the very God who demands
justice be done. In our Lord Jesus Christ, “Mercy
and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have
kissed each other.” (Psalm 85)
What we observe today is nothing less than what we
proclaim at Christmas: that the light which shines in
the darkness cannot be overcome. We observe today what
St. Paul declared when he wrote that “God was in Christ
reconciling the world unto himself.” It has been said
that to understand the church’s doctrine of the Holy
Trinity is to understand that “God is Love.” It may also
be said that to comprehend the Christian Faith amounts
to understanding why we call this Friday ‘Good.’
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