Finding our place in the Passion

John 18-19

Preached Canberra Baptist Church Good Friday 2006

The reading of the Passion story embraces us all. A clergyman at Cambridge once had in the Good Friday Service, a Cabinet minister, one of the great atheists of England. They read the John Passion as we have today. As he left the atheist took the clergyman’s hand and said wistfully “Terribly sad story, that.” This story draws to itself archbishop and atheist, theologian and taxi driver. Whoever we are, if we listen we find ourselves in the story.

There are many players in the drama, many places where we might stand quietly as the terrible action unfolds around us.

There is Judas in the darkness of the garden, illuminated by the lanterns and torches of posse. There is ample room to see ourselves there with the soldiers and police and all the defenders of conventional righteousness - all those down the ages who have tried to take Jesus in hand and test him against the moral standards of the day.

There is the High Priest, the leader of the people, who lives out the calculus of policy that concludes it is better for one to suffer than the many.

There is that nameless disciple, the man who knew the High Priest, who had enough influence to get Peter into the proceedings but not enough influence to get Jesus out of the proceedings. He was some middle level functionary, perhaps like ourselves with connections enough to do the little things, but not enough to change the big picture.

There is Peter, the first disciple, the Rock, the leader, whose courage fails not in face of the lawyers and the torturers but before the woman on the door and the slaves around the fire. Peter the great one, who denied he had anything to do with it!

There is Pilate, earnestly trying to find Jesus innocent, clearly seeing that this is all trumped up, a lynching. But because of social position, because of the politics of his situation and the requirements of his role, he condemned himself to play a bitter part in what he knows is a travesty of justice.

There was Barrabas, the bandit, condemned to die, without hope or prospect, but for the good luck of the amnesty and the determination of the crowd to see Jesus hang. He is suddenly, unexpectedly, miraculously free!

There are the soldiers, doing their duty, oblivious to the ending of a life and the breaking of a body, but aware of the value of material things, the value of that robe for which they cast lots. Like gamblers everywhere, eager to win, focused on the game, they do not see the suffering around them.

There are the women, standing together, supporting each other as women often do, standing near in grief, and receiving from the dying man a new family, a new sense of belonging.

There is Joseph of Arimethea, wanting to give things a decent burial, unable to change the course of events, but happy to tidy away the aftermath so that the old order is not upset or defiled by anything as inconvenient as an unburied body, any ritual uncleanness.

There are many actors, many roles, many places where we could see our selves fitting in to the tableau of the Passion.

The wonderful thing is, it doesn’t matter where we find ourselves in the story, because the story claims us, puts us in the drama regardless of where we would place ourselves. It matters not whether we see ourselves as the betrayer or executioner, or the bit-player opening doors. It doesn’t matter whether we find ourselves beside Pilate in the stony place of judgement, trying desperately to make a difference but trapped by our responsibilities, or with the grieving faithful women who find family renewed and affirmed at the foot of the Cross, or trudging along beside old Joseph, trying to make the best of bad thing. All of us play these roles in life at some time or other. The Passion story reminds us of where we have stood and what we have said when goodness and innocence was on trial.

What matters is not where we place our selves in the story, because all the human actors and players are just the supporting cast. This story is about Jesus, his testimony to the truth and his final wonderful affirmation: “It is finished”.

What is finished? His work, the redemption of the world, that loving forgiveness which now takes up all the bit players with their foibles and failures into the victory of God, the victory over selfishness, and faithlessness and fear. Looking back on all his work, his teaching, his invitation to the new Kingdom of God’s love and justice breaking into the world Jesus says: It is finished. It is complete. It is accomplished.

We see and resonate with the human actors and their implication in the story: those in the garden, and in the Courtyard and around the Cross. We see their roles in the story and find ourselves alongside them in the story.

But above all this attend to Jesus. Hear his words to Pilate, and Pilate’s great declaration before all history: Behold the Man! Look on him, see humankind as it really is. And then hear the final, quiet, authoritative word of the Lord: It is finished. It is done. The great transaction’s done.

If we are to find our place properly in the story of the Passion it is not as bit players in a drama or action film, but at the centre of a great love story, the story of God’s love for all human beings – for you and for me. We find ourselves at the foot of the Cross, with Peter and Mary and with Caiaphas, Judas and Pilate. We are all there despite our failings and compromises and our limitations, we are there in awe and silence before the miracle and the wonder of God’s love for us.

Prayer

Eternal God,

In Jesus you came to us, and showed us the length and the breadth, the height and the depth of God’s love for all humanity. In suffering love is the way to life and renewal, and by the Cross of Jesus is the world redeemed and all made new.

We praise you for this love! We pray for all who share the experience of the Cross today – for those imprisoned and tortured, those who carry the sins of others.

Help us who bear Christ’s name to follow in his way, that love might be the hallmark of our living, not just love for friend and family, but love for the stranger, the unlovely, the forgotten and rejected. Keep us O God, in the way of Jesus, until the dawn of that day when the kingdom is fulfilled and your glory fills the earth.

Amen