4/2/10 - Good Friday - John 19:31-37

PIERCED FOR PROOF

I would imagine that many of you have crosses hanging on your walls at home. Maybe one inside a picture frame. Maybe another sitting on a shelf or a desk. Many of you have cross pendants hanging on your necklaces. And that’s a good thing. It’s a good thing to surround yourself with little replicas of that ancient torture device because the cross has fittingly become the symbol of Christ’s sacrifice for our sins. It’s healthy to be reminded about his ransom price on a regular basis and it’s God-pleasing to show your faith in that small way. The cross is almost proof that you are a Christian. It is an outward sign demonstrating what you believe. But there’s something that goes along with the cross that we cannot forget: blood and death.
Both blood and death are inseparably connected with the cross. And I understand that you realize that the cross implies that Jesus bled to death on it. But I’m not sure that’s what we normally think about when we see a cross. We don’t normally bring to mind streams and streams of blood dripping off of the wooden beams. We don’t usually dwell on Christ’s battered body void of life. It’s almost as if we have a sterile cross in mind, don’t we? A neat and tidy, pleasantly rustic cross. Maybe an ornate cross or even an outwardly beautiful cross. Rarely do we view the cross as dark and ugly and sickening and saturated with Jesus’ blood. Seldom do we associate the cross with the disturbing feeling that is unique to death.
I don’t know how many times you’ve been around a dead body, whether in a hospital room or a funeral home or somewhere more personal, but death is stale. Death sucks the air out of the room. When you are in the presence of a body that no longer has life in it, it’s a little unsettling because it’s so unnatural. Death is nasty; it’s psychologically and sometimes even physically nauseating. And death is what happened on the cross. And not just any death, Jesus’ death. God’s death. The cross isn’t cute. The cross isn’t pleasant. The cross isn’t supposed to be a charming little trinket that simply adorns our walls. The cross is proof that God himself died. And so the cross and Jesus’ blood that ran down it are also proof that our sins are deadly.
Now I don’t think I have ever described my sins as deadly. I doubt many people have. Because it is instinctive for us to marginalize our sins. We try to downplay our sins as much as possible. Because we commit so many sins in so many different ways at so many different times that the seriousness of just one sin is lost in the sheer amount of them all. One single mistake seems so insignificant compared to all of those offenses that we have committed in the past. We might say something that we know we shouldn’t say and as Christians we think to ourselves, “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have said that but it’s not a big deal.” And that’s it! That’s all we bother ourselves with and we never think about it again! Or we might do something that is obviously against God’s will and so we tell ourselves, “Well, it probably wasn’t the best thing to do but I guess it wasn’t that bad; I’ve done worse and I’ve seen other people do worse things too!” Our selfish actions are quickly forgotten; our careless words are shrugged off; our inappropriate thoughts are tolerated as long as we don’t act on them. It’s commonplace even for us to soften the awfulness and the severity of what we do and who we really are. We don’t like to think of our sins as deadly. We don’t like to think of our sins are worthy of condemnation. Instead we like to refer to them as nothing more than minor blemishes or unfortunate personality traits.
One of my favorite hymns in the entire hymnal, a hymn we sang earlier this Lenten season, is “Stricken, Smitten, and Afflicted.” The third verse of this powerful poem reads, “If you think of sin but lightly nor suppose the evil great, Here you see its nature rightly, here its guilt may estimate. Mark the sacrifice appointed; see who bears the awful load - ‘Tis the Word, the Lord’s Anointed, Son of Man and Son of God.” If you find yourself not taking your sins too seriously, all you have to do is look at the cross. Because the cross is where your sins come to a head. You cannot take your sins lightly when you see Jesus bleeding to death on a couple pieces of wood! You cannot possibly think that the evils your sins have produced are inconsequential when you hear Jesus crying out in pain and hellish torture! You cannot fool yourself into thinking that the guilt of your sins is no big deal when you see Jesus give up his last breath and then hang limp on the nails that have pinned back his arms! Jesus’ death shows your sins and my sins for what they are. They are damaging. They are destructive. They are damnable. And Jesus’ death proves it.
The apostle John records for us in detail what happened at Jesus’ death - because John was there! He saw it with his own eyes. He was standing with Jesus’ mother at the foot of the cross and he wanted us to know exactly what he himself witnessed. “Now it was the day of Preparation, and the next day was to be a special Sabbath. Because the Jews did not want the bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath, they asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken down. The soldiers therefore came and broke the legs of the first man who had been crucified with Jesus, and then those of the other. But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus' side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. The man who saw it has given testimony, and his testimony is true. He knows that he tells the truth, and he testifies so that you also may believe. These things happened so that the scripture would be fulfilled: ‘Not one of his bones will be broken,’ and, as another scripture says, ‘They will look on the one they have pierced.’”
There was no doubt that Jesus was dead. Not only did John see it with his own eyes but he also used the testimony of a non-Jew, a roman soldier, to solidify that fact. A man who had actually helped crucify the Lord used his spear to jab the Savior’s side, sending water and blood pouring to the ground. And this very centurion testifies that the Son of God was truly dead in every sense of the word. The Life-Giver was not alive.
And John writes these words for us because that’s exactly what we needed to hear. Oh, don’t get me wrong: the blood and the water that came streaming out of Jesus’ side are proof of what our sins did to the Lord. But the blood and the water that poured from that puncture wound are also proof of what our Lord did for us. Our sins sent Jesus to his death. But Jesus’ death won forgiveness for those very sins. It was crucial that he died! God himself had to die or we would be left with an eternal death sentence hanging over our heads! It was necessary for Jesus to give up his life so that he could give that life to us. There was no other way. If there were another way, Jesus surely would have taken it! No human being would want to go through that kind of agony if he didn’t have to. No human being would look forward to that kind of miserable death if he could die in a more comfortable way. But there wasn’t another way. This was it. The cross was the only option. An excruciating and humiliating death was the only choice. And so Jesus let death get the best of him so that he could get the best of death for us.
Can there be any greater demonstration of God’s love for us than his death on the cross? Yes, this created world is wonderful; it’s a visible display of how much God provides for his people. Yes, families and congregations and a prosperous country in which to live are signs of God’s mercy and compassion. But there is no greater love than self-sacrifice. And the cross is the ultimate example of that kind of love. Jesus sacrificed himself for us when he didn’t have to. He wasn’t forced to suffer; he wasn’t obligated to bleed; we had done nothing for him that he felt compelled to die. But he did it anyway. Jesus sacrificed himself on the cross for the sinners who put him there. Jesus bled for those who made him bleed. Jesus proved his love for us by ending his life for us.
And so this dark and ugly and sickening cross is also a little bit beautiful underneath. It’s beautiful because of death. Because the cross is where sin stops and forgiveness begins. It was where death and life met head to head. It is where death held the field for three days until life claimed the victory when the stone was rolled away from that empty tomb. And that victory is coming soon. Hang on to that hope until Sunday morning comes. In the mean time, for the rest of tonight and all day tomorrow, think about the cross. Think about all that blood. Think about Jesus’ death. It is proof of your sins but it is also proof of your Savior’s love. Without it we wouldn’t be here. Without the blood on Friday afternoon there would be no Sunday morning. Without the blood there would be no forgiveness. Without Christ’s death, we would not have life.
Amen.

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!” - Rev. 5:12

4/1/10 - Maundy Thursday - Matthew 26:26-28

TAKE A DRINK OF FORGIVENESS

The disciples had eaten with Jesus before. Besides the Feeding of the 5000 and the Feeding of the 4000, Jesus’ chosen apostles certainly had many private meals with Jesus throughout the three years they sat at his feet. And they probably had participated in a few annual Passover meals with him as well. And so as they sat in an upstairs room set up for this special Old Testament feast one Thursday evening, commemorating once again the deliverance from Egypt and the angel of death that had passed over the houses with bloodstained doorframes, they didn’t think much of it as they were eating the unleavened bread and enjoying a few pieces of lamb and washing it all down with a little wine in the presence of their Lord. It was a normal holiday meal, no different than any other Passover celebration they had celebrated before. But as this annual feast was winding down, “Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples saying, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’ Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.’”
I wonder what the disciples were thinking when Jesus said this to them. They probably glanced at each other across the table with some raised eyebrows and then looked back at Jesus to see if he was serious. And after figuring out that he wasn’t telling them a parable or using a figure of speech, they must have thought, “OK, Lord, if you say so…” And they all took a piece of bread from his hands and ate not just bread at that moment but his body as well. And then when the cup came around they not only took a drink of wine but of Jesus’ own blood. And for the first time ever on that Maundy Thursday evening, sinners actually ate salvation; they took a drink of forgiveness.
What a spectacular night that must have been for the disciples! Jesus’ body and blood miraculously offered to them through a couple normal items on their supper table! The forgiveness of sins not just spoken to them, but visibly given to them in a tangible form that they could taste and smell and touch! Jesus’ disciples must have been overwhelmed by this sudden display of his love. Of course, I don’t know how long they really had to dwell on this means of God’s grace because soon after this holy communion with Christ’s body and blood they traveled out to the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prayed while they slept; Judas betrayed Christ and Peter cut off Malchus’ ear, Jesus was arrested and the disciples ran away, Jesus was put on trial, condemned to death, sent to Pilate, over to Herod, and then back to Pilate, marched out to Calvary and crucified. A lot of things happened in the few hours that followed the institution of the very first Lord’s Supper. I’m sure the events in the upper room got lost in all of the things that happened afterwards. But after it was all over, after Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into heaven, after the disciples started going their own ways to spread the gospel and had time to reflect on the events of that Maundy Thursday evening, I’m sure they remembered Jesus’ words with joy. And every time they celebrated the Lord’s Supper with their own little congregations for years to come they undoubtedly held this new festival in high regard and treated it with the utmost honor and respect.
Maybe if we had been there in that upper room on Maundy Thursday evening with the disciples, hearing Jesus’ words of forgiveness from his own mouth, taking the bread from his own hands, and sharing the cup with the likes of Peter and James and John, then maybe we would treat the Lord’s Supper with a little more respect too. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here who doesn’t always regard the Lord’s Supper as precious and as special as it really is. But I have a feeling that it’s sometimes a problem for you as well. Because it’s far too easy for us to act as if the Lord’s Supper is just another part of the worship service, something that we do on the 1st and 3rd Sundays of the month, but nothing more than that. And although it’s nice to have, it’s hardly anything special or unique or wonderful to us anymore. In fact, we are so familiar with this practice of the Christian church and we have participated in it so many times that our minds are usually elsewhere when the Lord’s Supper is in progress, aren’t they?
When walk up to the front here, any number of things can go through our mind. “Wow, Pastor’s shoes are a little scuffed up today… Why did the usher send up so many people at once? I can barely have room it’s so crowded… I hope I don’t drop the wafer… The wine tastes a little sour today… I wonder if so-and-so is going to take communion this time… I hope I can figure out what verse of the hymn we are on when I get back to my chair…” The fact that it’s Christ’s true body with that wafer you just put on your tongue - lost in the melee of thoughts and distractions. The fact that it’s Christ’s true blood with that wine that just ran over your lips - unnoticed and unimportant. The fact that Christ is giving you a chance to eat and drink forgiveness - appreciated but nothing that you haven’t experienced before.
And believe me: my thoughts during the Lord’s Supper are just as scattered and my attitude is just as irreverent. Rarely do I fully value the complete forgiveness I receive through Christ’s body and blood. Rarely am I completely conscious of my sins beforehand and have an aching desire to see them washed away in this heavenly feast. Rarely am I blown away by the grace and mercy of my Lord as the bread and the wine enter my mouth. I don’t despise this Holy Supper, but I don’t honor that well either. I don’t consider it as a pointless tradition, but I definitely don’t revere it as I should. The Lord’s Supper is one of the greatest and most miraculous blessings the Lord will ever give us on this earth. And so it’s a shame that we treat it as something that is nothing out of the ordinary. Because it’s anything but. It certainly uses ordinary elements, but it uses them in extraordinary ways.
And it will comfort you to know that the sins we commit against the Lord’s Supper during the Lord’s Supper are forgiven in the Lord’s Supper. That’s the very reason the Lord instituted this New Testament feast: it was meant to be a spiritual meal for sinners! It was not given to the disciples because they were perfect Christians; they would all run away from Christ in just a couple hours after they left! And so this meal was not meant as a stamp of approval for a holy life; it was meant to cleanse those who were unholy! The Lord’s Supper is meant for those who are surrounded by their sins, not those who are unbothered by them. The Lord’s Supper is meant for us. And here at the Lord’s table he offers us not just bread and wine, but his death and resurrection. He offers us his flesh that was crucified and his blood that poured out of his body. He offers us to take a drink of forgiveness. And it is free. It is sweet. It is instant. There is no probationary period for the blessing of forgiveness. The Lord does not put stipulations on this gift or hold it back until you prove yourself worthy. No, the moment you eat that bread and drink that wine coupled with the words of Jesus himself, forgiveness is yours. And not just a little bit of forgiveness. Not just forgiveness up to that point or forgiveness only for the sins you can remember. But forgiveness for all of your sins of all time. This little wafer and this little cup are a feast for your soul.
Please understand what a precious, precious gift this is. Every time you step up to the altar, you are a witness to and a direct recipient of a miracle of grand proportions. In one simple moment you the sinner are connected with Christ the Savior and his ransom cross. You will never be closer to your Lord on this earth than at this Supper. His real body and his real blood are at your finger tips. The same flesh that was sacrificed for you. The same blood that fell to the ground. Take that wafer in your hand tonight and every opportunity thereafter with trembling and joyful fingers. Hold that cup in awe and admiration. And praise your Lord for what he is doing for you at that very moment. Because you are eating salvation. You are taking a drink of forgiveness.
Amen.

“May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will. and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.” - Heb. 13:20-21