Sunday, April 10, 2022

A brief sermonette on the Palm Sunday Passion Reading from Luke 23 Year C

 

Palm Sunday 2022

Luke (Year C)

Dramatized Passion Reading: Luke 23:1-49

 

Introduction

 

There’s so much we could say about the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ passion, which are at the very heart of our faith.

But as we’re going to have a long reading, we’ll have quite a short sermon.

Just before we have this dramatized reading, I’m going to suggest a couple of themes to look out for, though of course there are many others too, and it might be something else that particularly strikes you today.

 

One thing to think about is kingship.

Who is the true king here?

What’s he like?

What’s his kingdom like?

In this account, we hear about Pilate, the representative of Cesar, the ruler of one of the greatest empires there’s ever been.

And we meet King Herod, who becomes friends with Pilate.

And of course we’re shown King Jesus and we hear something about his Kingdom.

 

And then I’d suggest you also look out for a second theme of justice and righteousness.

Who does the right thing here?

Who deserves what?

Who’s guilty and who’s innocent?

 

After we’ve had our reading, I’m going to say something briefly about Jesus’ conversation with the dying thief, the details of which are given only in Luke’s Gospel, which we’re reading from this year.  

 

* * *

 

Sermon

 

Jesus is crucified, in part, because he claims to be the Christ, or the Messiah, the anointed one of God, God’s chosen king.

He’s falsely accused of opposing the payment of taxes to Caesar.

The Jewish leaders want Pilate to agree that King Jesus is a threat to King Caesar.  

Pilate cross examines Jesus about whether or not he is “the king of the Jews.”

The soldiers ridicule him by dressing him in an elegant robe, like a parody of kingly splendour.

The bystanders mock him:

They want to see him save himself if he is the Christ of God.

The written notice of the charge against Jesus, hung above the cross says, “This is the king of the Jews.”

 

So Jesus is dying as the king.

A king rejected and scorned, but a king nevertheless.

Of course, we know Jesus is the true and rightful King, the Messiah.

 

And the dying thief, amazingly, can see it.

Jesus is utterly defeated and broken.

He’s dying the most terrible death the Roman Empire could devise.

And yet the thief can see past the squalor and the pain.

He says to Jesus, “remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

The thief knows that Jesus is the king.

And amazingly he also seems to know that death won’t be the end for Jesus.

Jesus is obviously dying – but by dying he is coming in to his kingdom.

Jesus is clearly a very different sort of king with a unique kingdom.

 

Jesus is the king who dies because he will not save himself.

He dies to save others.

And he has the power to bring them into his kingdom.

 

And then to our second theme of justice and righteousness, guilt and innocence.

Pilate can find no basis for a charge against Jesus.

Neither can Herod.

It’s obvious to everyone that Jesus has done nothing deserving death.

“What crime has the committed?”, Pilate asks again in desperation.

We’re repeatedly told that there are no grounds for the death penalty.

The Jewish leaders and the crowd have lost the argument for Jesus’ guilt and they’re just reduced to shouting louder.

We could paraphrase it: “We don’t care if there’s no evidence and you’ve found him not guilty: Crucify Him Anyway!”

The Centurion in charge of the crucifixion says about Jesus: “Surely this was a righteous man”.

 

So Jesus is a king coming into his kingdom by his death.

He’s also innocent and righteous.

He is suffering unjustly.

He does not deserve death.  

 

The dying thief sees all this.

And he’s willing to admit his own guilt.

He says to the other criminal: “We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”

 

Jesus is the innocent one dying the death of guilty.

 

This incident with Barabbas, the insurrectionist and murderer, serves to illustrate the point.

We might say it's like a mini-parable made history. 

It’s a little drama which shows what the cross achieves.  

The innocent Jesus takes the place of the guilty Barabbas.

Here’s the gospel acted out:

The guilty Barabbas deserves punishment.

But the innocent Jesus dies, and Barabbas goes free.

There’s a reversal, a swap: the innocent for the guilty.  

There’s the Christian doctrine of the cross in this apparently incidental accident of history.

 

God has surely arranged it to show us that Jesus is dying in the place of all those guilty sinners who deserve punishment, who will put their trust in him.

Jesus is dying for us, in our place, instead of us:

The innocent one, bearing our guilt and punishment, that we might go free.

He dies, that we might live.

Did Barabbas ever realise any of that, I wonder?

 

The dying thief certainly had some idea what he ought to do.

He has the insight and courage to ask for the mercy of king Jesus.

He can make no pleas in mitigation.

He can offer no good works:

He can’t promise to turn over a new leaf and live from now on as a reformed character.

But he simply prays: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”.

 

And that brief prayer for mercy is enough.

The thief somehow perceives that all that is necessary is that King Jesus should remember him with kindness.

Jesus promises him: “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

 

And for any of us, whatever we’ve done, the assurance of heaven is only ever a prayer away.

That prayer of faith, looking to Jesus in simple trust, asking for the mercy of the king, is one which Jesus will always answer:

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

“I tell you the truth, you will be with me in paradise.”

 

Jesus the righteous king died to save guilty sinners like me and you.

As we marvel again at the crucified king this Easter, may God give us the insight and faith of the dying thief, that we too might throw ourselves on the mercy of Jesus. Amen.  

No comments: