3/25,4/1/09 - Midweek Lent - Luke 23:26-31

FATHER, FORGIVE US FOR OUR UNREPENTANCE

The words of Jesus on the cross are well-known. Those seven sayings of Christ while he was being crucified are etched into our minds because they are the focus of many Good Friday services and they are even the basis for some midweek Lenten themes. In fact, the first words of the Lord on the cross serve as the title for our midweek Lenten theme this year: “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” And the other six phrases are just as familiar: “I am thirsty.” “Woman, here is your son; here is your mother.” “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” “It is finished.” “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” These famous words are powerful words. Touching words. Words that are filled with meaning and words that strike the heart.
But Jesus also spoke some meaningful and striking words before he ever arrived at the cross. On his way from Pontius Pilate’s palace to the hill of Calvary, he spoke some very powerful and important words that we might not know so well. They are only recorded for us in the book of Luke, and this portion of Luke is not found in any of the gospel readings within our three year lectionary. You’ll never hear this story read on a regular Sunday, Lent or otherwise, because it just doesn’t happen to be one of the chosen Sunday lessons. And so I’m glad we have it as our focus for tonight. Because this story really encapsulates what Lent is all about - and what it’s not about. Listen to what Luke writes in chapter 23: “As they led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, 'Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!' Then “ 'they will say to the mountains, "Fall on us!" and to the hills, "Cover us!" ' For if men do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?"
These are the only words that we know Jesus spoke in between the death sentence passed by Pilate and the nailing to the cross on Calvary. And they are strange words, aren’t they? They are a little confusing at first, too. Why would Jesus say such a thing to women who were publically mourning at the sight of his suffering? Wouldn’t he have appreciated their compassion? Wouldn’t he have commended their behavior? Because we can see why the women would want to do what they did. We would have probably done the same thing! Just think of what Jesus must have physically looked like at that point. Remember he had been punched in the face by the Jews the night before. He had been clubbed on the head by soldiers - not by little boys - but by full-grown men who hated him. And they beat him with a staff, with a wooden baseball bat more or less. Jesus’ face must have been black and blue and swollen by the time of his crucifixion. Of course, he also had that crown of thorns pressed into his head, which certainly sent blood streaming down his face. He was also flogged by the Roman soldiers with a metal-tipped scourge - Jesus was undoubtedly bleeding profusely from those open wounds. And then, to top it all off, a wooden cross was placed on that same back and he was forced to drag it through the city. Not to mention he hadn’t had any sleep now for well over 24 hours. And so Jesus must have looked wretched and pitiful at that point. “He was,” as Isaiah described him hundreds of years before, “Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not (Isaiah 53:3). Jesus surely was a sad sight to behold. And so the women of Jerusalem come out and physically and audibly wept over the march to the hill of his execution. And that makes sense to us! We can understand why! Whether these women personally knew who Jesus was or not, the mere sight of this beaten and ridiculed man would have moved almost any Christian to sorrow and tears.
But while these women were wailing alongside him, Jesus turned to them, and instead of thanking them for their pity, he says, "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children.” Jesus didn’t want their pity. Jesus didn’t want their sympathy. Jesus didn’t want their comfort. That was not why he was there. That was not why he allowed so many people to see his suffering nor why he died such a public and humiliating death. Jesus was not battered and bruised so that they could feel sorry for him, but so that they would feel sorrow over their sins. Jesus’ suffering and death, and therefore the entire season of Lent, is not about an emotional sadness over what the Lord had to go through. Lent is about a deep and real distress over our own sins and their awful consequences.
Now, it’s not wrong to be sorry for what Jesus had to suffer. Don’t feel guilty for feeling upset during Lent. As Christians it’s OK to be a little emotional when it comes to what Jesus had to experience because that’s a natural reaction when someone we love has to suffer so much. But that is not the reason for Lent. It’s a side effect, but it’s not the reason. The main goal of Lent is not to stir up in us the sentiment: “Oh, poor Jesus.” Rather, it is to stir up in us the realization: “My sins are serious. My sins are deadly. My sins deserve that kind of punishment. And look! that is exactly what Jesus had to go through to satisfy my penalty.” The stories of Lent are not so much to move us to melancholy, but to move us to repentance - that is, to move us to confess our sins to him and believe in him for our forgiveness.
But too often we come into Lent and follow along with it just like those women were following along with Jesus on the road to the cross. We cry and we sigh at Jesus’ wounds, but we are ignorant of our own. We shake our heads in heart-felt agony at the nails and the thorns, but our own consciences are pricked only ever-so slightly. Because we know what’s coming afterwards! We know Easter is right around the corner. We know everything is really going to be OK once that stone is rolled away from the empty tomb again this year. And so instead of falling on our knees in repentance - a place these stories in Lent ought to drive us - we try not to think about our sins at all. And as long as we have to deal with this season called Lent, we concentrate on the terrible things others did to Jesus instead of the eternal consequences that our own sins deserve. Jesus turns to us, just like he turned to the daughters of Jerusalem, and says, “Don’t grieve for me. Don’t mourn for me. I don’t need it! Grieve for yourselves because your sins deserve this. Repent of your sins and believe that I have now taken the punishment for you.”
And that is an important part of repentance: not only acknowledging your sins, but trusting that Jesus has completely forgiven them. And this very story shows that what Jesus did all enough was enough for our forgiveness. Because take a look at who was walking down that road. Was it you? Was it me? No, it was Christ and Christ alone. Even Simon of Cyrene who was forced to carry the cross behind Jesus was simply making sure that Jesus got to Calvary faster so that he could be crucified sooner, which would result in him suffering longer. Simon didn’t help Jesus; Simon didn’t even want to be there. It was just Jesus walking down that path - under guard, under the sentence of death, and, most seriously, under the wrath of God. Jesus alone traveled that road to the Place of the Skull - and although our sins were there, we were nowhere to be found. We can sometimes get close. We can crowd around the words of Scripture and immerse ourselves in the events of that week. But we cannot walk with Jesus. We cannot be with Jesus there at the precipice of his death. Because he didn’t need us to be. Jesus needed to do it alone. He had to take all of our sins all at once for this sacrifice to work. Jesus himself had to be the Lamb and nothing else could be on the altar - not our noble attempts at reconciliation, not our desire to do good, not even our sorrow over sin. Jesus was the sacrifice. And that was it. Jesus was the offering. And nothing more. Jesus completed the punishment. And it was done.
It was done. And just think how nice that is. We aren’t required to do a thing. We aren’t asked to stand by Jesus on trial; we aren’t asked to take the flogging, to walk the road, to adorn the cross, or to experience hell. We aren’t even called on to hold Jesus’ hand while he does those things. We can contribute nothing to our salvation even if we wanted to. Our forgiveness and eternal life depend completely and totally on Christ’s work on our behalf. And since Jesus himself promises that his life has paid the price, we can be sure that our salvation is secure. We do not have to doubt. We do not have to wonder. Jesus did it all. Jesus did it all! You are saved! And that is as trustworthy as the word of the Lord himself - because it is the word of the Lord himself!
Do you think the women of Jerusalem understood that? That Jesus was traveling to the cross for their sins? I wonder if the women of Jerusalem stopped wailing after what Jesus said to them. I wonder if they were caught off guard and maybe even a little offended at Jesus’ words. Or I wonder if they were made aware of their sins and repented as the Lord had intended. I wonder if this story and the other Lent stories with it will motivate us to fall to our knees in repentance as well. Because Lent definitely shows us that sin is serious, doesn’t it? There is no arguing that. And the consequences of sin are all too real - especially during this time of year. But so is Jesus’ sacrifice. In fact, Jesus’ sacrifice is never clearer than it is during this season of the church year. And so as these last few weeks before Easter come to a close, and as we move through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, and even after we leave the glorious celebration of the resurrection behind, keep these stories that you have heard on these six Wednesday nights close by your side. Collect them in your thoughts from time to time. Review them in your hearts. And bring them to mind in the quiet of your own room. Not so much so that you can lament over Jesus’ physical pain and suffering, but so that you might shed a tear of joy over the victory his suffering has won. Because here in the stories of Lent are where the sins commit all year are forgiven. Here in all of the blood you find all of the peace. Here in the suffering is your salvation.
Amen.

“May the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way.” - 2 Thess. 3:16