GOOD FRIDAY 2013

Text:  Luke 23:1-56

Theme:  "The Rap Sheet"

GOOD FRIDAY

March 29, 2013

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

What we have come to do, as one scholar, the Rev. Dr. Norman Nagel, put so succinctly, is to "watch three of us die."    It's not exactly what we're accustomed to during the lunch hour.  But as we witness the execution, they -- these three -- are part and parcel with us simply because they are human.

All three were condemned as criminals.  Two of them had pretty nasty rap sheets.  One of them basically said so.  He told the other man that was dying, "We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve."  But then, looking at the man crucified in the middle, he said, "But this man has done nothing wrong."

"How did he know that?" asks Dr. Nagel.  He must have known an innocent man when he saw one.  The verdict of the ages is that this criminal was right.  Jesus was an innocent man, and that would make Good Friday a travesty of justice.  So why do they call it "good"?  That's the "crux" of the matter.  And no amount of brightly colored eggs and milk chocolate bunnies can cover that up. 

Christians know far more about the man crucified in the middle than the other two.  With the Scriptures as our guide, we have followed Him in the church year from His birth at Christmas, to His baptism in the Jordan at roughly thirty years of age, on through to His public service, His ministry.  Luke 9:51 tells of the time when He resolutely set His face to go to Jerusalem.  And what we observe today, the death of three of us, is the reason why.  Jesus didn't avoid His death; He resolutely set forth to meet it.

Jesus was one of us in every way.  The only difference is that He did not sin, or, as we politically-correct and modern sophisticates say, He didn't "behave inappropriately".  So why did it come to this?  What was the "rap sheet" attached to Jesus?  Sometimes law enforcement people say of criminals they're trying to catch, "He/she has a 'rap sheet' a mile long."

Let's look at the rap sheet on Jesus.  The first set of charges are leveled by the religious community of all things.  They play the role of prosecutor.  There are three charges, to be exact.  First, they said that Jesus was subverting their nation.  We can't have dangerous subversives running around our lovely countryside.  Second, in an obvious appeal to the Roman government, they said that Jesus opposed the paying of taxes.  (Note:  if you read the gospels, you discover that this is an absolute lie, but if you make the lie big enough people tend to believe it.)  The third charge was that He, Jesus, one of us, claimed to be Messiah, a King. There you have it:  the rap sheet on Jesus. 

Now the judge, sitting on the bench that day, was Pilate.  He was the Roman procurator.  His job was to keep the peace in his little corner of the Roman empire.  If he didn't do his job, enforcing the pax Romana, he might get recalled to Rome.  But he does have some sense of justice.  After the indictment was rendered and rap sheet read, Pilate picks up on the third charge and asks Jesus:  "Are you the king of the Jews?"   Jesus replies:  "You have said so."  That was enough for Pilate.   Jesus was probably nothing more than a poor, deluded old soul.  Whatever he did or didn't do, it wasn't worth the death penalty.  "I find no basis for a charge against this man."

But the prosecution was having none of it; they were just getting started. Wait just a minute, Governor!  This man has stirred up people all through Galilee.  "Oh," Pilate must have  thought; "he's a Galilean, so I'll send him to Herod.  Being Galilean, he's in Herod's jurisdiction." 

So off Jesus goes for another day in court.  Herod had heard something of the miracles, and he wanted a command performance.  Not getting one, he had Jesus roughed up; they ridiculed and mocked him, we are told. Still, there was not enough there for capital punishment. 

Back to Pilate Jesus goes.  Acquitted of the charges  in two separate tribunals, Pilate has had enough.  He gathers the prosecution together to render his verdict and set Jesus free.  This is when the shouting started, and it wasn't "Hosanna to the Son of David" as it was on Palm Sunday.  Instead, it was "Crucify him!  Crucify him!"  And the cries grew louder and longer.

Pilate kept trying, but the shouting just increased.  Luke tells us that their shouting "prevailed."  Finally, Pilate changed his mind.  The pressure was too much.  The squeaky wheel gets the grease.  Pilate "surrendered" Jesus to "their will," we are told.

"The will of the people."  On the surface, that's what -- historically -- killed Jesus.  The government, head in this case by Pilate, simply bowed to the will of the people.

But, dear friends, I must say that we have to look deeper at this.  It was not the will of the people that killed Jesus.  It was not the government that killed Jesus.  Listen to Jesus Himself:  "I lay down my life...No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of myself.  I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to take it again.   Death did not cut him down -- either by democracy vote or governmental fiat.  It was the fulfillment of His mission.

 

The rap sheet, if we must speak of one, was not the one proffered by the religious community and caved in to by Pilate.  The rap sheet was ours -- a rap sheet a million miles long.  He put Himself on that cross for all the times when we -- by thought, word, and deed -- fell short of the glory of God. 

By willingly taking on our rap sheet, Jesus, by choice, became the biggest, worst sinner that ever lived -- and He paid for it, willingly, with His life.

As a result, we leave this place today and go into this weekend knowing that our sins have been paid for.  And that is, beyond a reasonable doubt, why Good Friday is good.

There's no rap sheet anymore.  It has been taken care of. 

Amen.