Three Men on their Crosses: A Palm Sunday Meditation on Luke 23

And one of the malefactors which

were hanged railed on him, saying,

If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.

But the other answering rebuked him, saying,

Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?

And we indeed justly;  for we receive the due reward of our deeds:

but this man hath done nothing amiss.

And he said unto Jesus,

Lord, remember me when thou

 comest into thy kingdom.

And Jesus said unto him,

Verily I say unto thee,

Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.

In the Gospel reading for this Palm Sunday, the appointed lesson comes from Luke chapters 22 and 23.  Perhaps it is a sign of the softness of our age, that our liturgical text no longer corresponds to the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem (hence the palms strewn upon the road, giving the day its namesake,) but rather attempts to encapsulate all of Holy Week into the morning’s reading.  I once asked an older pastor what the logic of this could possibly be, and he responded that perhaps too few people were showing up for Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services, so they wanted to get them into the people’s hearing somehow.  Thus our Gospel lesson includes the institution of the Lord’s Supper, the passionate prayer of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter’s betrayal, Jesus’ mock trial, His crucifixion, and numerous other details far too numerous to adequately meditate upon in one sitting.  Even so, I hope I can be forgiven if the focus of my thoughts upon this Palm Sunday, turns to the conversation between three men dying on the same hill, and how illustrative they are to our common human condition.

Upon the hill of Calvary were crucified that day two thieves, and one Messiah.  Both thieves were there as the just sentence of their crimes, though the Scriptures do not share with us either their names nor the details of what they had done.  We might speculate on what kind of theft could justly bear the sentence of crucifixion, since this form of capital punishment was usually reserved for the most serious of malefactors—those who were involved in rebellion or treason, and whom the Roman Empire wanted to make examples of to the people at large through tortuous and public death.  Crucifixion was as much a spectacle for ensuring the people knew the gravity of certain crimes (thus incentivizing them to avoid it themselves) as it was a particularly horrible act of vengeance poured out by the authorities upon the transgressor.  Our western sensibilities have difficulty envisioning such an approach to crime, punishment, and public warning, though we see glimpses of this methodology in the evening news reports coming from brutal regimes around the world.  The Islamic State, when they behead or crucify or rape or torture or burn people alive, hearken back to methods and political theories very similar to those of pagan antiquity.  But regardless of how we might speculate upon the details of why the thieves were there next to Jesus, the Scriptures point out to us the most important detail:  they were there because they deserved to be.

Jesus, on the other hand, very much did not deserve to be there.  He was snatched by a murderous, treacherous, and illegal mob while praying at night in a garden; railroaded in a mock trial by His own countrymen intending only to convict Him; handed over to the territorial governor of an occupational power, who after beating him bloody couldn’t find anything wrong in Him; the chief priests threatened to mob the Roman outpost if Pilate refused to release the murderer Barabas and crucify Jesus; and finally the wonder-working, sinless prophet of Galilee was nailed to a cross to die publicly in the most gruesome, heinous, tortuous, and humiliating way they could think of.  His disciples and followers fled, save a few of the women and St. John, who looked on from a distance.  His chief disciple denied ever knowing Him.  His betraying disciple hanged himself in despair.  With the cruel ridicule of his betrayers and executioners ringing in His ears, the eternally begotten Son of God hung dying on a Palestinian hill, with justly condemned thieves on either side.

What the people could not see until their eyes were opened after the Easter Resurrection, was that this scene was and remains iconic of the entire human race. All mankind stands rightly condemned under the justice of Almighty God, awaiting their well earned sentence in hell; all mankind suffers through their own crucifixion of a life inexorably heading toward death; all mankind is justly dying temporally, condemned for eternity for their evil, wickedness, and pride, with our adversary the devil rolling in lurid satisfaction over our humiliating and tortuous demise.  And yet, into our death and suffering comes God Himself, to take on our flesh, and offer Himself a sacrifice for us all.  Our just sentence He took freely upon Himself, so that in His suffering and death, our sentence would be paid.

Like the two thieves who hung beside Jesus, every one of us can respond to Him and His sacrifice in one of two ways.  We could use our dying and suffering breath to heap scorn upon Him, to malign and dishonor Him, and with the short-sighted insanity of the railing thief insult the Son of God who enters into our suffering to save us.  Or, we could see and hear the Word of God made flesh, by His Holy Spirit working through His Word confess in faith that we are indeed sinners worthy of our death, pray for mercy, and beg Him to remember us when He comes into His Kingdom.  While for those who spurn the salvation of Jesus the Gospel may recede from their dying sight, the eyes of the penitent faithful open to eternal visions of beauty and salvation as they hear their Savior turn to them and say, “Verily I say to you, today you shall be with Me in paradise.”

What is true of these three men on their crosses, is also true of us.  None of them came down from their crucifixion except by death, and none of us will, either.  One by His death conquered sin, death, hell, and the power of the devil, opening the Kingdom of God to all who will repent and believe His Gospel.  One despised the Savior and His salvation, and passed by death into eternal perdition.  One by faith in Jesus passed from death to eternal life.

And there you hang upon the lonely hill of your own life’s crucifix, justly awaiting the day of your own death—but you do not hang there alone.  Beside you is the One who has entered your suffering with you, so that He might lead you from death to life.  Open your eyes to the wonders of the salvation He offers to you there, even in the midst of your suffering—of eternal life forever secured, of evil forever defeated, and your fellowship with your Creator and His people forever restored.  Hear Him, beloved—believe and live.  Amen.

The Duty of Stewards: A Lenten Meditation on Luke 20

Then said the lord of the vineyard, What shall I do?

I will send my beloved son: it may be they will

reverence him when they see him.

But when the husbandmen saw him,

they reasoned among themselves, saying,

This is the heir: come, let us kill him,

that the inheritance may be ours.

So they cast him out of the vineyard, and killed him.

 What therefore shall the lord of the vineyard do unto them?

He shall come and destroy these husbandmen,

and shall give the vineyard to others.

For those with a soft and squishy view of Jesus, this week’s Gospel reading can seem severe.  What is recounted in Luke 20 continues an increasingly accusatory series of teachings which Jesus levels at the religious leaders of His day, and which the Church in every age ought listen to carefully.  What emerges in this particular parable are the duties and consequences of stewardship.

Stewardship in this passage (not to be confused with the sophomoric euphemism that’s been used to shake down congregations in recent decades for ever greater financial donations to nebulous or nefarious church budget goals) has to do with several key elements.  First, there’s a distinction between the actual owner of the vineyard, and the steward who tends it.  While the steward works in the vineyard, he does not own it any more than the person who takes your money at the cash register in your local pub necessarily owns the pub.  Secondly, the steward serves in the vineyard under the terms established by the owner, and not vice versa.  To invert this relationship would be as ridiculous as inverting the responsibilities and accountability of your local pub owner and his hired kitchen staff.  Lastly, there are consequences which will be exacted upon the stewards by the owner, relative to the faithful execution of their duties.  That same pub owner will reward his kitchen staff according the terms of their employment if they do well, but will fire them if they start giving the clientele food poisoning by being unsanitary.  (For the record, I love a good pub… not that anyone might be able to tell.  Remember to support them for their great brews and food, and the excellent atmosphere they provide for deep theological dialogue.)

While we all may be aware of tensions between workers and their bosses, Jesus’ parable amps things up a bit.  Imagine that the owner of your local pub owns many establishments in many different places, and he expects to see his revenue coming back to him from each.  Imagine also that one of those pubs decided to withhold their revenue from the owner and use it on themselves.  How long do you think it would take the owner to show up with a court order and the police, fire those unfaithful stewards, prosecute them for their theft, and hire new workers for his pub that would faithfully execute their duties?  In Jesus’ story, however, the owner is much more longsuffering about his vineyard and his tenants.  He sends representatives several times to receive what is rightfully his, and repeatedly the stewards abuse his representatives and deny him.  Lastly, the owner sends his only son—the heir of all the owner’s wealth and prosperity—to receive what was his father’s due.  In an unbelievable act of evil, the stewards decide to murder the son of the owner, hoping that the father will die childless, and the vineyard will be theirs forever.  It is a level of insanity, hubris, and wickedness that far surpasses that of a cashier who pockets a few extra bucks from the till, and it brings from the owner a totality of wrath that destroys these unfaithful stewards, giving their duties to others.

While in practical terms the parable sounds ghastly, whether using the business model of 1^st century Israel or 21^st century Portland, this story ultimately isn’t about business owners and workers.  It’s about Jesus.  Who planted the vineyard of the world and the whole cosmos, and set mankind into its primordial garden to tend and care for it?  Who made the promise to save His people after their fateful fall into sin and death?  Who gave the concrete knowledge of good and evil, by speaking His Word of Law upon Mount Sinai?  Who gave the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation to His people by grace through faith in His Word of Gospel fulfilled on Mount Calvary?  Who calls and gathers His people together in every age and place through His Word and Sacraments, promising eternal life to all who will repent and believe in Him?  Jesus.

Of course, who is it that mankind rejected in the Garden?  Who did they reject before they were washed away in the great deluge of Noah’s age, or when they murdered the prophets in Elijah’s age, or when they murdered the Messiah who was Himself God Incarnate?  Who do they reject still, when they substitute their own words, their own traditions, their own pride, their own power, their own prestige, for the Eternal Word of God?  Jesus.

And what is the consequence of either rejecting or receiving Jesus?  The alternatives could not be more drastically different.  For those who receive Him by grace through faith, hearing, abiding, and believing in His Word, they are blessed to serve in His Kingdom forever.  They have the forgiveness of their sins, eternal life, and salvation from the powers of death and hell.  They have the dignity of noble work, and rest in their Savior.  They have peace with God their Creator, and with their neighbors.  Their friends are the saints and angels in this world and the next, a vibrant and joyous throng that sings forever of the wondrous love, mercy, and salvation of their God.  Theirs is the fellowship of Almighty God, in a perfected union which reflects the eternal and perfect unity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, One God now and forever.

But for those who reject Jesus, who deny His Law and His Gospel, turning His grace and mercy and love into wickedness, selfishness, abuse, and evil; those who seize the reigns of power for their own benefit, either in the secular halls of civil government or the sacred corridors of the Church trod by the hallowed martyrs; those who take the world for their own unbridled gratification, shamelessly appeasing the god of their lusts and the appetites of their bellies; those who persecute the Word of God and its bearers, showing their scorn of God by their mistreatment of His people; those who dream that the world belongs to them with all of its produce, denying the God of all creation by withholding their prosperity from their neighbors in need; those who think they can wipe out or marginalize the Son of God and thereby seize the Father’s Kingdom for themselves:  for them, there is nothing but darkness, pain, and suffering forever.  They have what little they had been given in this world ripped from their cold, dead hands, as their day of reckoning arrives.  They have the terror of meeting God as their enemy, with no power of their own to escape Him.  They have the justice of the Law delivered to them in full measure, as the grace of the Gospel they repudiated disappears from their sight.  They have the flames which burn and yet never consume, as the passions and lusts which they once worshipped now become their eternal tormentors.  They have the terrible darkness of hell, having cast away the beautiful light of heaven.  They have the screams of their own lonely despair ringing in their ears, cacophonously merged with the screaming hosts of the hopelessly lost.  Theirs is the solitary containment of evil, forever put beyond the ability to harm or abuse the children of light.

And for you, dear child, which will you choose?  There is no sideline, no middle ground.  There is only God and His stewards to whom He has given His Word and His multitudinous gifts.  For us, there is only either faith or unbelief—to love and trust our Savior resting in His grace, or to hate and reject Him.  The time approaches for the judgment of all, and for all people it is as inescapable as death itself.  Jesus comes to rescue you from the dark fate which looms before you, and comes ever nearer with each passing day.  Hear Him—believe Him—trust Him—and live.

Amen.

Coming Home: A Lenten Meditation on Luke 15

And when he came to himself, he said,

How many hired servants of my father’s have bread

enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!

 I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him,

Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee,

And am no more worthy to be called thy son:

Make me as one of thy hired servants.

And he arose, and came to his father.

But when he was yet a great way off,

His father saw him, and had compassion, and ran,

and fell on his neck, and kissed him. 

And the son said unto him,

Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight,

And am no more worthy to be called thy son.

But the father said to his servants,

Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand,

 and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it;

and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead,

and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.

Throughout the many twists and turns of a person’s life, it is not uncommon that people do things which make it hard for them to go back the way they came.  Whether it’s in childhood, or adolescence, younger or older adult years, people have a tendency of hurting each other in ways that make reunion very difficult.  That girlfriend you treated poorly in middle school, or that boyfriend you abused in high school, or that roommate you took advantage of in college, all can make the idea of heading back for school reunions ponderous.  Perhaps you were the kid who did the abusing, or the one who was abused; perhaps you were the one who vandalized property, or had your things vandalized; perhaps you did things you’re not proud of, and you have no interest in reliving those indiscretions with your contemporaneous witnesses.

For all the things that people do which make going back difficult, there may be nothing more painful than events which tear the fabric of families.  Those closest of relationships between husband and wife, parents and children and siblings, were never intended to be trampled upon and abused the way many of us have done.  Husbands and wives were created to treat each other with love reflected from God, and raise their children awash in the same; children were brought forth to return that reflected divine love back to each other and to their parents, growing in wisdom and virtue.  Families were created from the beginning to be unbreakable units of community, with bonds of love and affection that would transcend generations.  So it is that when this most intimate and fundamental community is broken—the community through which we were all brought into the world, and the community that will likely one day lay us in the ground—the pain, shame, and remorse of those rifts often make people feel that it is impossible or unbearable to come home.

But for all the shortcomings, failures, and abuse we so often inflict upon each other, especially within the boundaries of our own families, and the just perceptions of guilt, humiliation, vengeance, or injustice we may feel toward each other, Christ has something to teach us about the way He sees His family.  From His perspective, every single person in every far flung corner of the globe, across all time and distance, is a beloved creation.  Every single one of us, created by Him to be in eternal, unbreakable, and intimate familial communion with Him, has done much to tear that fabric of fellowship.  By our own wicked impulses we have committed every sin imaginable against Him, eventually slamming the door behind us as we ran away from Him.  And at some point in our lives, sooner or later, we will all be sitting in the filth and destitution of our own evil, with the realization that we have fouled everything up.  There in the darkness, hungry and abandoned, throbbing in pain and sobbing in despair, we will come to know that it isn’t God who abandoned us or broke our fellowship, but we who have despised and abandoned Him.  Coming to our senses upon the great precipice of eternal oblivion we have rightly earned, our eyes cast backward toward the distant light of our divine home and wonder if we can ever come home again.

Christ’s answer to you is now, and has always been a resounding, “YES!”  He who brought you into existence to share the wonders of His fellowship, has also descended into your darkness to pull you from that hellish oblivion which yawns before you.  Taking your offenses and your shame and your guilt to the lonely hill of Calvary, He has nailed your condemnation to His Cross, and forever freed you from its stain.  It is He who has washed your scarlet sins as white as new fallen snow, and He who has pursued you with His all consuming love.  His Word has pierced your malaise, slowed your wonton pace into perdition, and called you back home to Him.

What shall you find upon your return?  Perhaps you fear that your sins and shame shall be hung before you, and that you shall stand before the saints and angels to be ridiculed and scorned.  No, dear Christian—for Christ has already been hung upon the tree, bearing all the sins and shame and ridicule and scorn of all the world... including every other sinner-saint who has been called home and saved alone by His grace.  Your Savior has already done all to redeem you, and paid your price in full.  For you, as for every other child of God who once was lost but now is found, was dead and yet now lives, there is nothing but rejoicing, merriment, and tears of great joy upon your return, for this is the very reason He came to rescue you.  Far from condemnation, He races out to meet you, to embrace you, to put His own robe and ring upon you, and usher you once again into His feast which never ends.

Hear Him as He calls to you.  Turn from the dark and lonely paths of death.  Trust His blessed and eternal Gospel of salvation, which lights your path back to His loving embrace. Come home, dear child—come home. 

Amen.