The Power Of Jesus' Death
Sermon
Sermons on the Gospel Readings
Series II, Cycle B
There is an old saying that nothing is inevitable except death and taxes. Our current presidential administration seems to be trying to amend the second part of this axiom, accepting the unavoidable fact of death, but trying to make certain that taxes can be avoided, especially if we are rich. This is one of the shameful things about our nation. Our public needs are starved for tax support, but the tax code is drawn in favor of the rich. Prophetic faith ought to be crying loud and long about this injustice.
But this sermon is about death, especially the death of Jesus, and ours. One of the basic truths of life is that we are all heading toward death. Young children understand this even if death is not immediate to them. Usually, they don't have to deal with death in the same way as do older people. Yes, sometimes death comes crashing into the lives of teenagers. But death is primarily an adult issue, and the text forces us to deal with this subject today.
Death As A Cause Of Futility
Death can create a strong sense of futility. One of the writings in the Hebrew Bible is the book of Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes has pessimism that is unknown in any of the other biblical writings. Coming after the exile and after all the nationalistic dreams of the Hebrew people, Ecclesiastes becomes overwhelmed by a sense of the meaninglessness of life. He dwells on the somber truth that all of us go down to the grave together -- high and low alike. Hear again some of his darker words:
Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
All things are wearisome; more that one can express ...
What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.
The people of long ago are not remembered, nor will there by any remembrance of people yet to come by those who come after them.
-- Ecclesiastes 1:2, 8a, 9, 11
Do we wonder that the book of Ecclesiastes had a difficult time making it into the Hebrew Bible? The rabbis nearly voted it unacceptable as scripture, for in Ecclesiastes all the significance and joy of life is muted, and often suppressed.
Yet in today's world, Ecclesiastes seems to speak for many. The threat of death lies so close to all of us, despite all our scientific and technological advances. Earthquakes and other natural disasters, cancer and AIDs, historical slaughters in many places, all intrude painfully into our lives. In light of this we can understand the spirit of cynicism and futility about death.
The Goodness Of Death
However, a twentieth-century philosopher, Martin Heidegger, said that facing and accepting our mortality is the way to a meaningful life. He reminds us of another take on death. All around we can notice death driving us to more significant ways of living. This occurs in people young or old. While younger people more easily cover up their mortality, they still can allow the horizon of their inescapable death provoking rich meaning and purpose for their days.
For instance, a student decides for a low-paying job in public education, rather than making a lot of money by going for an MBA or heading for law school. The limited time to pursue a career, defined by death, pushes some to decide for children instead of wealth. Others, having professional degrees and several successful years of experience in their professions, think they really want to be stay-at-home moms or dads. They opt for chauffeuring their children in the beat-up old station wagon, doing loads of laundry, and serving up tons of tasty meals. They wish not to waste their lives on something that does not have significant value. They are driven by the inescapable fact of death.
As we grow older and we are forced to consider that we must die, we often do things and make choices out of this reality. Grandparents make financial and property arrangements for their children and grandchildren. Older people go down to the local funeral home and arrange for their funeral services, releasing their family and survivors from trying to know their wishes at the time of their death. Wealthy seniors often make a gift to some cause, promoting the good work of their particular cause. Seniors, when their health undermines their ability to manage their lives, often consent to go to a nursing home or retirement community, saving their children and family the time and energy of caring for them. These senior-copings with death, like those of younger people, bring much good. Death, then, in this sense is a rich source of human goodness.
All of us have experienced the transforming power of the death of another. It may be a family member, perhaps a parent, or tragically a child. A mother lost her only son, a young teenager from carbon monoxide poisoning. The cause was a faulty furnace in their home. It did not seem that she spent much time grieving or ranting about the unfairness of the universe. Nor did she heap loads of guilt upon herself for not paying enough attention to the furnace. Instead, she found a sponsor who provided a number of home carbon monoxide alarms. Driven by the sad death of her son she went door to door offering these free alarms to those who had none. Even our terrible, sorrowful experiences can be transforming. They can push us out to minister to the large and small needs of others.
The Death Of Jesus
The death of Jesus is another form of death noted in our lection this morning. This is a death that is freely chosen. The text comes from chapter 15 of the Gospel of John where John is depicting those last hours of Jesus with the disciples in the upper room. In an almost throwaway line, John's Jesus says, "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."
We're not certain why Jesus went up to Jerusalem that last Passover. The reasons given in the gospels are shaped by later Christian beliefs and are not tight history. All we really know is that Jesus did go up to Jerusalem. A guess might be that he had no detailed plan about his death. Perhaps he thought nothing would happen to him in the city, and he would return to Galilee after Passover. Certainly he knew the saying that no prophet would die outside of Jerusalem. But this would provide no specific plan. Maybe all that Jesus really believed was that he was in the loving, caring hands of God whatever happened. He certainly believed God would work something good out of his death. So Jesus went to his death, chosen without an overall plan, but still chosen. He laid down his life for his friends.
What we do know is that the death of Jesus had a powerfully transforming affect on his followers, and those who join his cause, then and now. At one level, the violent, tragic death of Jesus revealed meanings in him that were not recognized in him, even by his closest friends. This is not strange; for this often happens at the death of loved ones and friends. Their death clarifies their meaning and worth, and we see things that escaped us until their death revealed them to us: "Uncle Charlie was so good at caring for Aunt Elizabeth," we say; or we venture, "Dad never really took anything for himself. He always put all the rest of us first." This may have been noticed before Dad's death, but his death made it an indelible understanding of Dad. Likewise, the death of Jesus falls into a common human experience of death, making clear something we didn't know the full extent of in the dying person. Death can reveal understandings and appreciations we have missed altogether in life.
Another transforming effect of Jesus' death is how it changes those of us who give ourselves away to him. There have been several ways in which the death of Jesus transforms us, none of them fully adequate to the experience. One of them emphasizes the victory of God over death, and how we may trust in this for ourselves. The biblical writers expressed this in stating that in Jesus' death he triumphed over the powers of evil -- especially death. We hardly need to be told how this transformed our lives. A second explanation of how Jesus' death wonderfully impacts our lives says that Jesus' death enabled the mercy and forgiveness to flow to all humanity. Here Jesus is depicted as the sacrifice that appeases God's wrath. This explanation has great problems, for it implies that Jesus' death was necessary before God could forgive and show mercy. But moderns can be transformed by this explanation if we understand it as suggesting the universal and everlasting mercy and forgiveness of God.
A third explanation of how the death of Jesus transforms us is probably most congenial to many Christians. This focus on the death of Jesus makes us feel so indebted to the love of God, despite our constant sins and failings, that we surrender to such love in joyful response. Such godly love expressed in the death of Jesus makes us into persons that extend this love to the whole world. Such is the power of Jesus' death. While this understanding of the death of Jesus is not found directly in the New Testament, it does have biblical resonances. Jesus is a powerful inspiration to live our lives before God and neighbor in a loving fashion as seen in him. In these and other ways, the death of Jesus continues to have a serious influence upon us.
But this sermon is about death, especially the death of Jesus, and ours. One of the basic truths of life is that we are all heading toward death. Young children understand this even if death is not immediate to them. Usually, they don't have to deal with death in the same way as do older people. Yes, sometimes death comes crashing into the lives of teenagers. But death is primarily an adult issue, and the text forces us to deal with this subject today.
Death As A Cause Of Futility
Death can create a strong sense of futility. One of the writings in the Hebrew Bible is the book of Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes has pessimism that is unknown in any of the other biblical writings. Coming after the exile and after all the nationalistic dreams of the Hebrew people, Ecclesiastes becomes overwhelmed by a sense of the meaninglessness of life. He dwells on the somber truth that all of us go down to the grave together -- high and low alike. Hear again some of his darker words:
Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
All things are wearisome; more that one can express ...
What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.
The people of long ago are not remembered, nor will there by any remembrance of people yet to come by those who come after them.
-- Ecclesiastes 1:2, 8a, 9, 11
Do we wonder that the book of Ecclesiastes had a difficult time making it into the Hebrew Bible? The rabbis nearly voted it unacceptable as scripture, for in Ecclesiastes all the significance and joy of life is muted, and often suppressed.
Yet in today's world, Ecclesiastes seems to speak for many. The threat of death lies so close to all of us, despite all our scientific and technological advances. Earthquakes and other natural disasters, cancer and AIDs, historical slaughters in many places, all intrude painfully into our lives. In light of this we can understand the spirit of cynicism and futility about death.
The Goodness Of Death
However, a twentieth-century philosopher, Martin Heidegger, said that facing and accepting our mortality is the way to a meaningful life. He reminds us of another take on death. All around we can notice death driving us to more significant ways of living. This occurs in people young or old. While younger people more easily cover up their mortality, they still can allow the horizon of their inescapable death provoking rich meaning and purpose for their days.
For instance, a student decides for a low-paying job in public education, rather than making a lot of money by going for an MBA or heading for law school. The limited time to pursue a career, defined by death, pushes some to decide for children instead of wealth. Others, having professional degrees and several successful years of experience in their professions, think they really want to be stay-at-home moms or dads. They opt for chauffeuring their children in the beat-up old station wagon, doing loads of laundry, and serving up tons of tasty meals. They wish not to waste their lives on something that does not have significant value. They are driven by the inescapable fact of death.
As we grow older and we are forced to consider that we must die, we often do things and make choices out of this reality. Grandparents make financial and property arrangements for their children and grandchildren. Older people go down to the local funeral home and arrange for their funeral services, releasing their family and survivors from trying to know their wishes at the time of their death. Wealthy seniors often make a gift to some cause, promoting the good work of their particular cause. Seniors, when their health undermines their ability to manage their lives, often consent to go to a nursing home or retirement community, saving their children and family the time and energy of caring for them. These senior-copings with death, like those of younger people, bring much good. Death, then, in this sense is a rich source of human goodness.
All of us have experienced the transforming power of the death of another. It may be a family member, perhaps a parent, or tragically a child. A mother lost her only son, a young teenager from carbon monoxide poisoning. The cause was a faulty furnace in their home. It did not seem that she spent much time grieving or ranting about the unfairness of the universe. Nor did she heap loads of guilt upon herself for not paying enough attention to the furnace. Instead, she found a sponsor who provided a number of home carbon monoxide alarms. Driven by the sad death of her son she went door to door offering these free alarms to those who had none. Even our terrible, sorrowful experiences can be transforming. They can push us out to minister to the large and small needs of others.
The Death Of Jesus
The death of Jesus is another form of death noted in our lection this morning. This is a death that is freely chosen. The text comes from chapter 15 of the Gospel of John where John is depicting those last hours of Jesus with the disciples in the upper room. In an almost throwaway line, John's Jesus says, "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."
We're not certain why Jesus went up to Jerusalem that last Passover. The reasons given in the gospels are shaped by later Christian beliefs and are not tight history. All we really know is that Jesus did go up to Jerusalem. A guess might be that he had no detailed plan about his death. Perhaps he thought nothing would happen to him in the city, and he would return to Galilee after Passover. Certainly he knew the saying that no prophet would die outside of Jerusalem. But this would provide no specific plan. Maybe all that Jesus really believed was that he was in the loving, caring hands of God whatever happened. He certainly believed God would work something good out of his death. So Jesus went to his death, chosen without an overall plan, but still chosen. He laid down his life for his friends.
What we do know is that the death of Jesus had a powerfully transforming affect on his followers, and those who join his cause, then and now. At one level, the violent, tragic death of Jesus revealed meanings in him that were not recognized in him, even by his closest friends. This is not strange; for this often happens at the death of loved ones and friends. Their death clarifies their meaning and worth, and we see things that escaped us until their death revealed them to us: "Uncle Charlie was so good at caring for Aunt Elizabeth," we say; or we venture, "Dad never really took anything for himself. He always put all the rest of us first." This may have been noticed before Dad's death, but his death made it an indelible understanding of Dad. Likewise, the death of Jesus falls into a common human experience of death, making clear something we didn't know the full extent of in the dying person. Death can reveal understandings and appreciations we have missed altogether in life.
Another transforming effect of Jesus' death is how it changes those of us who give ourselves away to him. There have been several ways in which the death of Jesus transforms us, none of them fully adequate to the experience. One of them emphasizes the victory of God over death, and how we may trust in this for ourselves. The biblical writers expressed this in stating that in Jesus' death he triumphed over the powers of evil -- especially death. We hardly need to be told how this transformed our lives. A second explanation of how Jesus' death wonderfully impacts our lives says that Jesus' death enabled the mercy and forgiveness to flow to all humanity. Here Jesus is depicted as the sacrifice that appeases God's wrath. This explanation has great problems, for it implies that Jesus' death was necessary before God could forgive and show mercy. But moderns can be transformed by this explanation if we understand it as suggesting the universal and everlasting mercy and forgiveness of God.
A third explanation of how the death of Jesus transforms us is probably most congenial to many Christians. This focus on the death of Jesus makes us feel so indebted to the love of God, despite our constant sins and failings, that we surrender to such love in joyful response. Such godly love expressed in the death of Jesus makes us into persons that extend this love to the whole world. Such is the power of Jesus' death. While this understanding of the death of Jesus is not found directly in the New Testament, it does have biblical resonances. Jesus is a powerful inspiration to live our lives before God and neighbor in a loving fashion as seen in him. In these and other ways, the death of Jesus continues to have a serious influence upon us.
