The way up is down
Commentary
The shroud of death covers our world. The sanctuary is dark, and the Table bare. We feel a deep sense of sorrow and awe, both at the same time. This day will paint once again that scene on Golgotha that we know so well. Yet each year on this day, we see something in that scene that we had not previously perceived. So many meanings are woven together to make this day special for all Christians.
How shall we capture that scene once more so that its message awakens our dull spirits? Preaching on Good Friday is very difficult. We speak of the deepest mystery of our faith; we probe the most profound event in human history (so far as we Christians are concerned). Certainly one of the images that Good Friday conjures in us is the paradox that the way up is down. It makes no sense; it lies beyond sense and nonsense. Our lessons, however, in several different ways lead us to ask how this most dreadful deed could be the way up for Christ and for us.
Isaiah 52:13--53:12
This best known of all the servant songs in 2 Isaiah reverses the directions we take for granted. This one magnificent poem teases us into imagining a route down that leads up. Once again, we wonder about this mysterious servant of the Lord. Who was (is) he (or she)? What does the prophet want us to learn from this enigmatic figure? On Passion Sunday, we read the second of these four poems, and now we return to them to see Christ in the fourth and final of songs. Christian believers almost immediately seem to have used this passage to come to grips with Jesus' crucifixion (for instance, Acts 8:26-35), and it has long been proposed that the image of this anonymous servant shaped Jesus' own self-understanding (for example, Mark 8:31). Viewing Christ on the cross almost instinctively brings this passage to mind.
The poem begins by speaking of the exaltation of the Lord's servant (52:13--53:1) and only then reports on the servant's suffering (53:2-10a). In other words, it starts on the "up" and then describes the "down" and the way "up." Following the powerful depiction of the servant's suffering, the poem leads us back up again, reporting first on God's deliverance of his servant and then showing us what exaltation is (53:10b-12). The way up is down.
The exalted state of this suffering servant is a surprise to everyone. When he prospers, many are "astonished" at his station. Everything about the servant's appearance would lead one to think that there is nothing of value in him. A secret is revealed in him that no one knew, even the royalty. A secret no one could have guessed. So the knowledge of his exaltation silences those who think they can speak. What had been heard is overthrown by what is seen, and what had never been uttered stirs contemplation. Some fundamental truth, some essential knowledge is made known in this unexpected elevation of the servant. Who's going to believe such a thing? Who would believe that the "arm of the Lord" is revealed in one who showed no strength at all, but only weakness?
This alien truth concerning the way to exaltation becomes even more startling in the depiction of the servant's suffering (53:2-9). The speaker changes in 53:1. In 52:13-15 God is the speaker. Then it appears that the "nations" speak, as the first person plural pronouns indicate. What follows verse 1 appears to be the witness of those who have profited from the servant's ministry. Hence, these statements are presented as first person testimonies to the nature and benefits of the servant.
The first two verses present us with his appearance and rejection. He would not make the cover of People magazine. Because of his indecent demeanor, he knows nothing but hatred and isolation. He is a "no count," a loser, and a marginalized person. This snapshot deals with the social humiliation of one who ministers for the Lord, and the suffering mentioned here is the emotional pain of rejection.
Verses 4-9, however, show that the suffering is more than emotional. Others inflict physical pain on him. Immediately in this section, however, his suffering is labeled vicarious. It benefits others and is endured in their stead. Verses 4-6 leap out at us as the first clear assertion of the fact that one innocent human could bear the suffering others justly deserve. The Hebraic tradition, of course, knew the concept of sacrifice. There the undesirable features of worshipers could be transferred to an animal who suffered in their stead (see for instance, Leviticus 3 and 4). Yet here it is not a sacrificial animal that functions as the substitute for human sin, but another human. The idea is this: Injustice is corrected through the punishment of one who takes the blame for that injustice on him or herself and suffers for the benefit of those actually responsible for the wrongdoing. This model of that unique kind of suffering enabled the earliest Christians to understand Christ's death from an entirely new perspective.
The poem expresses this novel understanding of suffering in a series of ways in verse 4 and 7. Notice especially the verbs used. Those that picture the servant's suffering include "stricken," "struck down," "afflicted," "wounded," and "crushed." "Borne our infirmities, and carried our diseases" refers to the way in which our wrong is carried over to him and produces his suffering. The benefits of his suffering for us are represented in wholeness and healing. The poet gathers an array of words and expressions to image what the servant does for us. Verse 6 offers another metaphor (the wandering sheep) to help us grasp this strange truth. The servant's demeanor is silent passivity. The comparison with the lamb in verse 7b links the servant's behavior and role with that of the most common sacrificial animal.
The poet asks us to imagine the future of such a person as this. He has no future. He is carried away, put to death ("cut off from the land of the living"), buried with criminals. (The phrase "with the rich" makes no sense and the Hebrew word here may have originally meant "rabble" or "refuse.") All of this in spite of the fact that he was innocent to the very end. The first half of verse 10 is terribly obscure in the Hebrew, and the translations appear to make it the divine will that the servant suffer such affliction. Whatever the case, the point is that his suffering is part of a divine plan.
The passage maps the way down with excruciating detail, and the way up with nearly equal strength. Forgiveness is the key to the meaning of all that we have read here -- a forgiveness that is part of the divine will. The servant will be rewarded for his sacrifice. Even though he is killed, his days will be innumerable and his descendant countless. He will eventually understand the meaning of his life. That is summarized in verse 11b: his righteousness makes others righteous. The exaltation is complete in verse 12. Because of what he has accomplished through his offering, he will be with the great and the strong. The poet has now brought us back to where we began in 52:13.
The servant song is premised on the fact that God makes the way up the way down. We are as startled as the nations to learn that this despicable person should be the medium of God's salvation and should finally be with the great and strong. It seems all backwards -- certainly backwards in our celebrity-infatuated society. The way up the ladder through the glass ceiling and on to the top is not up the ladder at all. The way up the ladder is down it. So God has decreed, as odd as it may sound.
Hebrews 10:16-25
What is the "up" Christ gained when he went the way of the suffering servant and died on the cross? This reading really needs to be set in contrast to the Gospel lesson. Jesus is unjustly charged, executed, and buried. Hebrews, however, gives us a glimpse of how that tragic story is turned into a glorious tale. Hebrews 10 brings to a conclusion the discussion of Christ's sacrifice (chapters 7 through 10). In our reading, the author summarizes where Christ is now stationed, what he does, and how it influences our lives. Continuing the theme of verses 1-15, the next two verses describe the value of Christ's sacrifice. The second part of the reading (vv. 19-25) is the first half of the author's explication of the implications of that sacrifice for our lives.
Jeremiah's "new covenant" passage (31:31-34) is an appropriate way to epitomize the impact of Christ's work on our behalf, and the author cites it again in verse 17 (see also 8:12). Through Christ God has established a new bond of love with us. (See our discussion of the first reading for the fifth Sunday of Lent.) If Christ's offer of forgiveness is for all people for all time, the days of sacrifice are ended. There need no longer be an effort to demonstrate to God our sincere desire for divine forgiveness. Christ has now made that forgiveness present.
"Therefore," in verse 19 is the pivot of the reading. Verses 16-18 draw together all that God has done for us, and now the author points us toward what all this means for our daily lives. The sentence offers two conditions that are now real. They are each introduced with the English word, "since" (added to Greek to help make the long sentence clearer). The first is the fact that, because of Christ's life and death, we have access to God. We do not have to depend on some mediator between us and our Creator. The high priest went through the "curtain" into the Holy of Holies in the temple in order to intercede for the people. That "curtain" is here represented as Christ's "flesh" -- his human life. (Does it refer in some way to the tearing of the curtain at the time of Christ's death, as in Mark 15:38?) The second condition that now exists is that we have a friend up there. Christ is our high priest and the only one we need. If all of this is true, then we can approach God without any hesitation.
That approach, however, is made easier in several ways. We have "the full assurance of faith," clean hearts and a pure conscience, and "bodies washed with pure water." Each is a different metaphor for the benefits of Christ's death. There need be no timidity nor overwhelming feeling that we are too evil to evoke God's presence. Timidity and unworthiness are washed away (probably a reference to baptism).
The fact that Christ has made access to God available to us, leads to two admonitions: "hold fast" and "consider." If Christ has done this for us, and because God is faithful to a promise, we can embrace the hope Christ gives us. A natural consequence of this is that we ponder how we can encourage one another in love and good deeds in our assembly. The verb translated, "provoke," means to draw forth, to stir up, or elicit. The Christian life requires that we work within communities where such encouragement from others comes. We wonder what lead the author to refer to Christian congregations that neglect meeting together. Such assemblies are essential. The eschatological dimension of our lives is introduced only briefly to say that Christ's parousia gives us all the more reason for such living.
All of this -- the new covenant, our access to God, our hope, and our Christian lives -- are a result of what Christ did in the cross ("the blood of Christ," v. 19). By lowering himself to suffer rejection and crucifixion, Christ not only was exalted to the station of high priest but lifted us up with him. We leave behind our hopelessness and alienation from God. The way up for us is by way of Christ's going down into the pits of death. If such a strange inversion brings us our relationship with God, then surely that same inversion is the nature of our own Christian lives of love and good deeds. The way up is down for Christ and for us.
John 18:1--19:42
The Johannine story of Christ's passion is unique in lots of ways. Surely one of the most important features of this story is the fact that the Johannine Jesus speaks of it as his glorification, exaltation, and his inauguration to royalty. Immediately after Jesus has prayed that his "hour has come, glorify your Son" (17:1), he is betrayed and arrested, and this launches the passion story. John presents that story not so much as Jesus' humiliation as his enthronement as king. True, many of the same events are told much like we find them in the Synoptic Gospels. However, in John Jesus proceeds through the whole ordeal with a dignity and composure that befits a king. In the climatic scene, we are told even that Jesus "handed over his spirit" (19:30). John tells this story in such a way as to imply throughout that the way up for Jesus is down.
Jesus' kingly posture shows itself from the very beginning of the passion story. The guards approach Jesus to arrest him. He asks who they're looking for, and they tell him, "Jesus of Nazareth." He responds with the enigmatic "I am." (For proper English, the translations add "he.") And the guards are floored on their backs. The sacred name of God appears on the lips of Jesus on several occasions (e.g., 8:24). In a nearly comical way, this scene pictures the power of that expression. In his sovereignty, Jesus allows the religious establishment to have their way with him.
In the religious trial, Jesus is not a passive and silent victim. He defends himself (see, for instance, 18:20-23). The author skillfully interweaves Jesus' bravery before the religious leaders with Peter's cowardice when he is confronted by others in the courtyard (18:15-18 and 25-27). Before Pilate, it soon becomes uncertain just who is trying whom. Ironically, Pilate inquires if he is the king of the Jews, and of course he is. The contrast between Jesus' kingly composure and Pilate's gutless unwillingness to free Jesus eventually stares us in the face. Pilate caves in to the desires of the crowd, while Jesus quietly suggests that he has resources at his disposal in his kingdom to wipe out Pilate and his guards (18:36 and 19:11). An ambiguity in the Greek hints that Jesus himself sits on the "judge's bench" while Pilate and the crowds are pretending to be judging him.
This kingly demeanor continues through the crucifixion scene, which merits careful attention. Consistent with his sovereignty, Jesus carries his own cross (19:17), as opposed to being so weak that another must carry it for him (for example, Mark 15:21). In John the inscription, "King of the Jews," is written in three languages to suggest Christ's universal rule (19:20). The reference to the fulfillment of Scripture (for example, 19:24) shows that Jesus' crucifixion is in no sense a defeat but a triumphant victory over the forces of injustice and evil. Even though he hangs on the cross and is slowly dying, Jesus expresses concern for his mother and perhaps even establishes the basis of the church (19:25-27). He entrusts his mother to the beloved disciple so that she would not be without a means of support. However, by doing so, he creates a new family of God (even as 1:12 claims that those who receive Jesus become "children of God").
With royal dignity, he asks for a drink, takes it, and then declares, "It is finished" (19:30). As opposed to Mark's account of Jesus' final death cry (Mark 15:37), the Johannine Jesus announces that his mission is complete; he has glorified God, and God has glorified him. So, he can now hand his life over to God. When the guards approach to break his legs and ensure his death, they instead thrust a spear into his side (19:31-34). The meaning of the blood and water that poured out of his side is frequently debated. It could mean, of course, only that Jesus is indeed dead. However, some suggest that those fluids represent Jesus' true humanity. They may suggest the relationship of his death (blood) and the living water that is the life Jesus gives as a result of his death (see 7:37-39). Jesus is then buried, wrapped in a hundred pounds of spices and laid in a new tomb (19:38-40). Both of these features suggest a burial befitting royalty. The "new tomb" is one in which no one else has been buried. The custom was to bury body upon body and to fill a tomb again once the other bodies had decomposed. Jesus' tomb was suitable for a king.
This is Jesus' glorification (12:23), his being lifted up (3:14 and 12:32), and his departure (14:1-3 and 18). What an inauguration to kingly office this is! Suffering, beatings, crucifixion, and burial. More than the first three, the fourth evangelist paints the passion story in royal purple, so that Jesus' exaltation is clear in his passion. This evangelist wants to be sure that we see in this story that the way down for this king was really the way up.
This radical inversion of all of our standards and social customs surprises us, for it suggests God values something very different from human values. We can only trust that in the way down, Christ draws us to himself, and we too are lifted up (12:32). To trust this promise is to live our lives on the premise that the upward path goes downhill.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Isaiah 52:13--53:12
Following the age-old tradition of lectionary readings, the same three texts for Good Friday are specified here in Cycle B as have been designated also in Cycles C and A. The preacher may consult those cycles for our previous expositions of the Old Testament text.
We might call this reading from Second Isaiah "The Great Reversal," because that is what it is about -- God's reversal of seemingly unchangeable circumstances. The passage makes up the fourth of the Servant Songs in Second Isaiah's prophecy, delivered to the exiles in Babylonia sometime between 550 and 538 B.C. This is the fourth of the Songs, the best known and most frequently quoted of the four, and it is called the Song of the Suffering Servant.
The singular figure of the Servant, as in the other Servant Songs, is intended originally as the people Israel. They are exiles in Babylonia, as good as dead (v. 9; cf. Ezekiel 37:1-11). In the eyes of the rest of the world, they have been cursed and rejected by their God and so also by other peoples (v. 3), and they therefore have suffered under the oppression and affliction visited upon captive and homeless, helpless people (v. 8). To all intents and purposes, the people of Israel can just be ignored and forgotten in the history of humankind. They have no national life, no status, no rights, no future.
But a surprise is in for the nations of the world. This unimportant exiled people will, in God's future, be exalted in the purpose of God (v. 52:13) and be used to bring God's forgiveness and justification to all the families of humankind (53:11-12). Through the suffering, the affliction, the scorn, the death borne by the Suffering Servant, the Lord God will prosper and further his will for the salvation of all peoples (v. 10).
In other words, it was the will of the Lord that the Servant suffer and die (v. 10). The Servant's suffering was not just a secular defeat and exile at the hand of the armies of the Babylonian Empire. It was first of all, as all the prophets acknowledge, God's punishment for Israel's unfaithfulness toward him and his covenant. But God used even that punishment for a greater purpose. Israel received from the Lord's hand "double for all her sins" (Isaiah 40:2). And that "double," that seemingly senseless suffering was for the sake of others. The Servant "was wounded for our transgressions," the nations confess. "He was bruised for our iniquities; and upon him was the chastisement that made us whole" (v. 5). God sacrificed his beloved people Israel for the sake of all peoples whom he loves, in order that all peoples would come to confess that the Lord is their God also. Israel didn't deserve that extra punishment. It was for the sake of others.
That's very much like what the Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Romans when he says that God rejected Israel for a little while in order to give all us Gentiles time to come in (Romans 11:25). Israel suffered for our sake, for all of us who were without God in the world, in order that we too might know God and his saving forgiveness of us.
That is the ideal to which Second Isaiah called his exiled compatriots in the sixth century B.C. The prophet wanted them to view their captivity, not simply as punishment for their sin, but also as their sacrifice for the sake of the world. In the very beginning of Israel's history, God had that sacrifice in mind. He called Abraham centuries before to leave all behind, because God loved all people and wanted to bring his blessing on all. So now, in Second Isaiah's time, Israel is still asked by the prophet to be the instrument of that blessing. The figure of the Suffering Servant here in our text is intended as a picture of Israel as God wanted her to be, Israel as the instrument for the future salvation of the world. And like all figures of speech, we should not try to push the imagery too far. But if Israel would fulfill that role, God promised, she would in the end, "be exalted and lifted up" and "very high" (52:13).
We know only one historical figure who fulfills all that imagery, however -- our Lord Jesus Christ. And it is no accident that this text for the morning is applied throughout the New Testament to the figure of Jesus (Romans 4:25; 15:21; John 12:38; Matthew 8:17; Hebrews 9:28; 1 Corinthians 15:3; 1 Peter 2:24-25; Matthew 26:63; 27:14; Mark 14:61, et al. -- see the many center-column cross references in your Bible). Indeed, throughout the New Testament, our Lord takes over the role of Israel and becomes what Israel was supposed to be in the purpose of God. Israel was the adopted son of God, according to the prophets. Christ is the only begotten Son of God. Israel was the disobedient son in the garden and in the desert; Jesus is the obedient one, resisting all temptations and praying, "Not my will but thine be done." Israel's King David was a murderer and an adulterer; Jesus was the wholly righteous davidic heir. Israel's priests corrupted their office; our high priest was without sin. God took all that Israel was supposed to be and concentrated it in the one figure of his incarnate Son. And so too, he showed us in the flesh the true Suffering Servant.
To be sure, Jesus did not suffer partly for his own sin as did Israel in exile. He was "in every respect ... tempted as we are, yet without sinning" (Hebrews 4:15). Instead, he took upon himself our sin and the sin of the world and suffered the cross for them. But he was despised and rejected on that cross, scorned and unesteemed. Before his crucifixion, he was afflicted with stripes and abused, but he said no word in his own defense. His grave was borrowed from a rich man and he died without any offspring -- all those things that had been said of Second Isaiah's Suffering Servant.
But our Lord Christ was also lifted very high, as the prophet had foretold. How do you want to interpret that? As a reference to the crucifixion, with Christ lifted up on the cross. The Fourth Gospel considers Christ's elevation on the cross to be his glorification and exaltation -- that which draws all people to him (John 12:27-32). But contrarily, we can also consider it a reference to the resurrection, when our Lord is raised and exalted to the right hand of the Father. Surely it is finally the resurrection of our Lord which has convinced us that Christ's work was all the will of the Father to forgive us and to cause us to be counted righteous in the eyes of our God. With his stripes we were healed.
In whatever manner we view the fulfillment of our text in Jesus Christ, God has worked his great reversal, hasn't he? He has taken his Suffering Servant, despised and rejected, and raised him up as the Lord of the world. It has all been in the purpose of God who loves us and wants to save us. Over the centuries, through the words of an ancient prophet and their fulfillment in his Son, God has unceasingly worked in his love for you and for me and for all people. That very first black Friday has become Good Friday, good Christians. We have only to receive in faith its incredible good news.
How shall we capture that scene once more so that its message awakens our dull spirits? Preaching on Good Friday is very difficult. We speak of the deepest mystery of our faith; we probe the most profound event in human history (so far as we Christians are concerned). Certainly one of the images that Good Friday conjures in us is the paradox that the way up is down. It makes no sense; it lies beyond sense and nonsense. Our lessons, however, in several different ways lead us to ask how this most dreadful deed could be the way up for Christ and for us.
Isaiah 52:13--53:12
This best known of all the servant songs in 2 Isaiah reverses the directions we take for granted. This one magnificent poem teases us into imagining a route down that leads up. Once again, we wonder about this mysterious servant of the Lord. Who was (is) he (or she)? What does the prophet want us to learn from this enigmatic figure? On Passion Sunday, we read the second of these four poems, and now we return to them to see Christ in the fourth and final of songs. Christian believers almost immediately seem to have used this passage to come to grips with Jesus' crucifixion (for instance, Acts 8:26-35), and it has long been proposed that the image of this anonymous servant shaped Jesus' own self-understanding (for example, Mark 8:31). Viewing Christ on the cross almost instinctively brings this passage to mind.
The poem begins by speaking of the exaltation of the Lord's servant (52:13--53:1) and only then reports on the servant's suffering (53:2-10a). In other words, it starts on the "up" and then describes the "down" and the way "up." Following the powerful depiction of the servant's suffering, the poem leads us back up again, reporting first on God's deliverance of his servant and then showing us what exaltation is (53:10b-12). The way up is down.
The exalted state of this suffering servant is a surprise to everyone. When he prospers, many are "astonished" at his station. Everything about the servant's appearance would lead one to think that there is nothing of value in him. A secret is revealed in him that no one knew, even the royalty. A secret no one could have guessed. So the knowledge of his exaltation silences those who think they can speak. What had been heard is overthrown by what is seen, and what had never been uttered stirs contemplation. Some fundamental truth, some essential knowledge is made known in this unexpected elevation of the servant. Who's going to believe such a thing? Who would believe that the "arm of the Lord" is revealed in one who showed no strength at all, but only weakness?
This alien truth concerning the way to exaltation becomes even more startling in the depiction of the servant's suffering (53:2-9). The speaker changes in 53:1. In 52:13-15 God is the speaker. Then it appears that the "nations" speak, as the first person plural pronouns indicate. What follows verse 1 appears to be the witness of those who have profited from the servant's ministry. Hence, these statements are presented as first person testimonies to the nature and benefits of the servant.
The first two verses present us with his appearance and rejection. He would not make the cover of People magazine. Because of his indecent demeanor, he knows nothing but hatred and isolation. He is a "no count," a loser, and a marginalized person. This snapshot deals with the social humiliation of one who ministers for the Lord, and the suffering mentioned here is the emotional pain of rejection.
Verses 4-9, however, show that the suffering is more than emotional. Others inflict physical pain on him. Immediately in this section, however, his suffering is labeled vicarious. It benefits others and is endured in their stead. Verses 4-6 leap out at us as the first clear assertion of the fact that one innocent human could bear the suffering others justly deserve. The Hebraic tradition, of course, knew the concept of sacrifice. There the undesirable features of worshipers could be transferred to an animal who suffered in their stead (see for instance, Leviticus 3 and 4). Yet here it is not a sacrificial animal that functions as the substitute for human sin, but another human. The idea is this: Injustice is corrected through the punishment of one who takes the blame for that injustice on him or herself and suffers for the benefit of those actually responsible for the wrongdoing. This model of that unique kind of suffering enabled the earliest Christians to understand Christ's death from an entirely new perspective.
The poem expresses this novel understanding of suffering in a series of ways in verse 4 and 7. Notice especially the verbs used. Those that picture the servant's suffering include "stricken," "struck down," "afflicted," "wounded," and "crushed." "Borne our infirmities, and carried our diseases" refers to the way in which our wrong is carried over to him and produces his suffering. The benefits of his suffering for us are represented in wholeness and healing. The poet gathers an array of words and expressions to image what the servant does for us. Verse 6 offers another metaphor (the wandering sheep) to help us grasp this strange truth. The servant's demeanor is silent passivity. The comparison with the lamb in verse 7b links the servant's behavior and role with that of the most common sacrificial animal.
The poet asks us to imagine the future of such a person as this. He has no future. He is carried away, put to death ("cut off from the land of the living"), buried with criminals. (The phrase "with the rich" makes no sense and the Hebrew word here may have originally meant "rabble" or "refuse.") All of this in spite of the fact that he was innocent to the very end. The first half of verse 10 is terribly obscure in the Hebrew, and the translations appear to make it the divine will that the servant suffer such affliction. Whatever the case, the point is that his suffering is part of a divine plan.
The passage maps the way down with excruciating detail, and the way up with nearly equal strength. Forgiveness is the key to the meaning of all that we have read here -- a forgiveness that is part of the divine will. The servant will be rewarded for his sacrifice. Even though he is killed, his days will be innumerable and his descendant countless. He will eventually understand the meaning of his life. That is summarized in verse 11b: his righteousness makes others righteous. The exaltation is complete in verse 12. Because of what he has accomplished through his offering, he will be with the great and the strong. The poet has now brought us back to where we began in 52:13.
The servant song is premised on the fact that God makes the way up the way down. We are as startled as the nations to learn that this despicable person should be the medium of God's salvation and should finally be with the great and strong. It seems all backwards -- certainly backwards in our celebrity-infatuated society. The way up the ladder through the glass ceiling and on to the top is not up the ladder at all. The way up the ladder is down it. So God has decreed, as odd as it may sound.
Hebrews 10:16-25
What is the "up" Christ gained when he went the way of the suffering servant and died on the cross? This reading really needs to be set in contrast to the Gospel lesson. Jesus is unjustly charged, executed, and buried. Hebrews, however, gives us a glimpse of how that tragic story is turned into a glorious tale. Hebrews 10 brings to a conclusion the discussion of Christ's sacrifice (chapters 7 through 10). In our reading, the author summarizes where Christ is now stationed, what he does, and how it influences our lives. Continuing the theme of verses 1-15, the next two verses describe the value of Christ's sacrifice. The second part of the reading (vv. 19-25) is the first half of the author's explication of the implications of that sacrifice for our lives.
Jeremiah's "new covenant" passage (31:31-34) is an appropriate way to epitomize the impact of Christ's work on our behalf, and the author cites it again in verse 17 (see also 8:12). Through Christ God has established a new bond of love with us. (See our discussion of the first reading for the fifth Sunday of Lent.) If Christ's offer of forgiveness is for all people for all time, the days of sacrifice are ended. There need no longer be an effort to demonstrate to God our sincere desire for divine forgiveness. Christ has now made that forgiveness present.
"Therefore," in verse 19 is the pivot of the reading. Verses 16-18 draw together all that God has done for us, and now the author points us toward what all this means for our daily lives. The sentence offers two conditions that are now real. They are each introduced with the English word, "since" (added to Greek to help make the long sentence clearer). The first is the fact that, because of Christ's life and death, we have access to God. We do not have to depend on some mediator between us and our Creator. The high priest went through the "curtain" into the Holy of Holies in the temple in order to intercede for the people. That "curtain" is here represented as Christ's "flesh" -- his human life. (Does it refer in some way to the tearing of the curtain at the time of Christ's death, as in Mark 15:38?) The second condition that now exists is that we have a friend up there. Christ is our high priest and the only one we need. If all of this is true, then we can approach God without any hesitation.
That approach, however, is made easier in several ways. We have "the full assurance of faith," clean hearts and a pure conscience, and "bodies washed with pure water." Each is a different metaphor for the benefits of Christ's death. There need be no timidity nor overwhelming feeling that we are too evil to evoke God's presence. Timidity and unworthiness are washed away (probably a reference to baptism).
The fact that Christ has made access to God available to us, leads to two admonitions: "hold fast" and "consider." If Christ has done this for us, and because God is faithful to a promise, we can embrace the hope Christ gives us. A natural consequence of this is that we ponder how we can encourage one another in love and good deeds in our assembly. The verb translated, "provoke," means to draw forth, to stir up, or elicit. The Christian life requires that we work within communities where such encouragement from others comes. We wonder what lead the author to refer to Christian congregations that neglect meeting together. Such assemblies are essential. The eschatological dimension of our lives is introduced only briefly to say that Christ's parousia gives us all the more reason for such living.
All of this -- the new covenant, our access to God, our hope, and our Christian lives -- are a result of what Christ did in the cross ("the blood of Christ," v. 19). By lowering himself to suffer rejection and crucifixion, Christ not only was exalted to the station of high priest but lifted us up with him. We leave behind our hopelessness and alienation from God. The way up for us is by way of Christ's going down into the pits of death. If such a strange inversion brings us our relationship with God, then surely that same inversion is the nature of our own Christian lives of love and good deeds. The way up is down for Christ and for us.
John 18:1--19:42
The Johannine story of Christ's passion is unique in lots of ways. Surely one of the most important features of this story is the fact that the Johannine Jesus speaks of it as his glorification, exaltation, and his inauguration to royalty. Immediately after Jesus has prayed that his "hour has come, glorify your Son" (17:1), he is betrayed and arrested, and this launches the passion story. John presents that story not so much as Jesus' humiliation as his enthronement as king. True, many of the same events are told much like we find them in the Synoptic Gospels. However, in John Jesus proceeds through the whole ordeal with a dignity and composure that befits a king. In the climatic scene, we are told even that Jesus "handed over his spirit" (19:30). John tells this story in such a way as to imply throughout that the way up for Jesus is down.
Jesus' kingly posture shows itself from the very beginning of the passion story. The guards approach Jesus to arrest him. He asks who they're looking for, and they tell him, "Jesus of Nazareth." He responds with the enigmatic "I am." (For proper English, the translations add "he.") And the guards are floored on their backs. The sacred name of God appears on the lips of Jesus on several occasions (e.g., 8:24). In a nearly comical way, this scene pictures the power of that expression. In his sovereignty, Jesus allows the religious establishment to have their way with him.
In the religious trial, Jesus is not a passive and silent victim. He defends himself (see, for instance, 18:20-23). The author skillfully interweaves Jesus' bravery before the religious leaders with Peter's cowardice when he is confronted by others in the courtyard (18:15-18 and 25-27). Before Pilate, it soon becomes uncertain just who is trying whom. Ironically, Pilate inquires if he is the king of the Jews, and of course he is. The contrast between Jesus' kingly composure and Pilate's gutless unwillingness to free Jesus eventually stares us in the face. Pilate caves in to the desires of the crowd, while Jesus quietly suggests that he has resources at his disposal in his kingdom to wipe out Pilate and his guards (18:36 and 19:11). An ambiguity in the Greek hints that Jesus himself sits on the "judge's bench" while Pilate and the crowds are pretending to be judging him.
This kingly demeanor continues through the crucifixion scene, which merits careful attention. Consistent with his sovereignty, Jesus carries his own cross (19:17), as opposed to being so weak that another must carry it for him (for example, Mark 15:21). In John the inscription, "King of the Jews," is written in three languages to suggest Christ's universal rule (19:20). The reference to the fulfillment of Scripture (for example, 19:24) shows that Jesus' crucifixion is in no sense a defeat but a triumphant victory over the forces of injustice and evil. Even though he hangs on the cross and is slowly dying, Jesus expresses concern for his mother and perhaps even establishes the basis of the church (19:25-27). He entrusts his mother to the beloved disciple so that she would not be without a means of support. However, by doing so, he creates a new family of God (even as 1:12 claims that those who receive Jesus become "children of God").
With royal dignity, he asks for a drink, takes it, and then declares, "It is finished" (19:30). As opposed to Mark's account of Jesus' final death cry (Mark 15:37), the Johannine Jesus announces that his mission is complete; he has glorified God, and God has glorified him. So, he can now hand his life over to God. When the guards approach to break his legs and ensure his death, they instead thrust a spear into his side (19:31-34). The meaning of the blood and water that poured out of his side is frequently debated. It could mean, of course, only that Jesus is indeed dead. However, some suggest that those fluids represent Jesus' true humanity. They may suggest the relationship of his death (blood) and the living water that is the life Jesus gives as a result of his death (see 7:37-39). Jesus is then buried, wrapped in a hundred pounds of spices and laid in a new tomb (19:38-40). Both of these features suggest a burial befitting royalty. The "new tomb" is one in which no one else has been buried. The custom was to bury body upon body and to fill a tomb again once the other bodies had decomposed. Jesus' tomb was suitable for a king.
This is Jesus' glorification (12:23), his being lifted up (3:14 and 12:32), and his departure (14:1-3 and 18). What an inauguration to kingly office this is! Suffering, beatings, crucifixion, and burial. More than the first three, the fourth evangelist paints the passion story in royal purple, so that Jesus' exaltation is clear in his passion. This evangelist wants to be sure that we see in this story that the way down for this king was really the way up.
This radical inversion of all of our standards and social customs surprises us, for it suggests God values something very different from human values. We can only trust that in the way down, Christ draws us to himself, and we too are lifted up (12:32). To trust this promise is to live our lives on the premise that the upward path goes downhill.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Isaiah 52:13--53:12
Following the age-old tradition of lectionary readings, the same three texts for Good Friday are specified here in Cycle B as have been designated also in Cycles C and A. The preacher may consult those cycles for our previous expositions of the Old Testament text.
We might call this reading from Second Isaiah "The Great Reversal," because that is what it is about -- God's reversal of seemingly unchangeable circumstances. The passage makes up the fourth of the Servant Songs in Second Isaiah's prophecy, delivered to the exiles in Babylonia sometime between 550 and 538 B.C. This is the fourth of the Songs, the best known and most frequently quoted of the four, and it is called the Song of the Suffering Servant.
The singular figure of the Servant, as in the other Servant Songs, is intended originally as the people Israel. They are exiles in Babylonia, as good as dead (v. 9; cf. Ezekiel 37:1-11). In the eyes of the rest of the world, they have been cursed and rejected by their God and so also by other peoples (v. 3), and they therefore have suffered under the oppression and affliction visited upon captive and homeless, helpless people (v. 8). To all intents and purposes, the people of Israel can just be ignored and forgotten in the history of humankind. They have no national life, no status, no rights, no future.
But a surprise is in for the nations of the world. This unimportant exiled people will, in God's future, be exalted in the purpose of God (v. 52:13) and be used to bring God's forgiveness and justification to all the families of humankind (53:11-12). Through the suffering, the affliction, the scorn, the death borne by the Suffering Servant, the Lord God will prosper and further his will for the salvation of all peoples (v. 10).
In other words, it was the will of the Lord that the Servant suffer and die (v. 10). The Servant's suffering was not just a secular defeat and exile at the hand of the armies of the Babylonian Empire. It was first of all, as all the prophets acknowledge, God's punishment for Israel's unfaithfulness toward him and his covenant. But God used even that punishment for a greater purpose. Israel received from the Lord's hand "double for all her sins" (Isaiah 40:2). And that "double," that seemingly senseless suffering was for the sake of others. The Servant "was wounded for our transgressions," the nations confess. "He was bruised for our iniquities; and upon him was the chastisement that made us whole" (v. 5). God sacrificed his beloved people Israel for the sake of all peoples whom he loves, in order that all peoples would come to confess that the Lord is their God also. Israel didn't deserve that extra punishment. It was for the sake of others.
That's very much like what the Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Romans when he says that God rejected Israel for a little while in order to give all us Gentiles time to come in (Romans 11:25). Israel suffered for our sake, for all of us who were without God in the world, in order that we too might know God and his saving forgiveness of us.
That is the ideal to which Second Isaiah called his exiled compatriots in the sixth century B.C. The prophet wanted them to view their captivity, not simply as punishment for their sin, but also as their sacrifice for the sake of the world. In the very beginning of Israel's history, God had that sacrifice in mind. He called Abraham centuries before to leave all behind, because God loved all people and wanted to bring his blessing on all. So now, in Second Isaiah's time, Israel is still asked by the prophet to be the instrument of that blessing. The figure of the Suffering Servant here in our text is intended as a picture of Israel as God wanted her to be, Israel as the instrument for the future salvation of the world. And like all figures of speech, we should not try to push the imagery too far. But if Israel would fulfill that role, God promised, she would in the end, "be exalted and lifted up" and "very high" (52:13).
We know only one historical figure who fulfills all that imagery, however -- our Lord Jesus Christ. And it is no accident that this text for the morning is applied throughout the New Testament to the figure of Jesus (Romans 4:25; 15:21; John 12:38; Matthew 8:17; Hebrews 9:28; 1 Corinthians 15:3; 1 Peter 2:24-25; Matthew 26:63; 27:14; Mark 14:61, et al. -- see the many center-column cross references in your Bible). Indeed, throughout the New Testament, our Lord takes over the role of Israel and becomes what Israel was supposed to be in the purpose of God. Israel was the adopted son of God, according to the prophets. Christ is the only begotten Son of God. Israel was the disobedient son in the garden and in the desert; Jesus is the obedient one, resisting all temptations and praying, "Not my will but thine be done." Israel's King David was a murderer and an adulterer; Jesus was the wholly righteous davidic heir. Israel's priests corrupted their office; our high priest was without sin. God took all that Israel was supposed to be and concentrated it in the one figure of his incarnate Son. And so too, he showed us in the flesh the true Suffering Servant.
To be sure, Jesus did not suffer partly for his own sin as did Israel in exile. He was "in every respect ... tempted as we are, yet without sinning" (Hebrews 4:15). Instead, he took upon himself our sin and the sin of the world and suffered the cross for them. But he was despised and rejected on that cross, scorned and unesteemed. Before his crucifixion, he was afflicted with stripes and abused, but he said no word in his own defense. His grave was borrowed from a rich man and he died without any offspring -- all those things that had been said of Second Isaiah's Suffering Servant.
But our Lord Christ was also lifted very high, as the prophet had foretold. How do you want to interpret that? As a reference to the crucifixion, with Christ lifted up on the cross. The Fourth Gospel considers Christ's elevation on the cross to be his glorification and exaltation -- that which draws all people to him (John 12:27-32). But contrarily, we can also consider it a reference to the resurrection, when our Lord is raised and exalted to the right hand of the Father. Surely it is finally the resurrection of our Lord which has convinced us that Christ's work was all the will of the Father to forgive us and to cause us to be counted righteous in the eyes of our God. With his stripes we were healed.
In whatever manner we view the fulfillment of our text in Jesus Christ, God has worked his great reversal, hasn't he? He has taken his Suffering Servant, despised and rejected, and raised him up as the Lord of the world. It has all been in the purpose of God who loves us and wants to save us. Over the centuries, through the words of an ancient prophet and their fulfillment in his Son, God has unceasingly worked in his love for you and for me and for all people. That very first black Friday has become Good Friday, good Christians. We have only to receive in faith its incredible good news.
