Good Friday Sermon: the com-passion of the christ (Heb 4:14-5:9)

The category is: Famous Lines
I say, “A Few Good Men.”
You say, “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth?”
I say, “Romeo and Juliet.”
You say, “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”
I say, “Good Friday.”
You say, “My God. My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?”

Every great drama has a keynote line. A line that is burned into our memories. A line that is pivotal in the unfolding of the story. From the heights of his pain on the cross, the tattered Christ quotes the psalmist. In his moment of greatest suffering, our broken Christ cries out to the Father. It is a question we often ask in our moment of greatest suffering. But today, Good Friday, above all other days is not a day about our suffering. It is about the suffering, or the Passion, of Christ. And while Christ may probe the depths of his abandonment, on this day we probe the depths of Good Friday mystery. Christ cried out, “My God. My God. Why have you forsaken me?” We cry out, “Our God. Our God. Why have you come so close to us?”

Today’s Epistle lesson is from the Letter to the Hebrews 4:14-5:10. Hear the Word of the Lord.

The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews gives us a helpful hint in embracing the mystery of Good Friday. To guide our thinking about the suffering of Christ, Christ is shown to be our great high-priest. He is a priest who is called by God. He is one who is set apart for his priestly work. He is one who works patiently and gently with us who have gone astray and who have become wayward. He is one who offers up prayers on our behalf. He is a priest who offers sacrifices, and is in fact sacrificed on our behalf. But he is not one who goes about his work as an outsider, or a foreigner. No he goes about his work as one who is able, because of his suffering, to be sympathetic.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…” Sympathy become a central concept in this high-priestly identity of Jesus. It must be a central concept in our Good Friday celebration. We are keenly aware of Christ’s suffering. We are keenly aware of his passion. But the author of Hebrews challenges us to move beyond just the passion of Christ, and to embrace the com-passion of Christ. Sympathy – compassion – to suffer with. Our God. Our God. Why have you come so close to us?

I really had no idea about sympathy, or compassion, or suffering with – no idea of what this really meant until I spent a long evening with my uncle. He is now deceased, but before he died, I got to spend an evening with him that was really more like a punch in the gut.

It was Thanksgiving. The whole family had been together at my aunt’s (my mom’s sister) house. David (my mom’s brother) had ridden with us. He did so out of necessity. After a life of abusing alcohol, it had began abusing him. His wife left him. She got the house and my cousins. She sold the house and moved with the boys to Missouri. David had been living alone in a trailer, but being alone was the last thing he needed. He began drinking more. He was on the verge of loosing his job too. They suspended him and sent him to residential rehab. For a month he was in rehab, but the night he got out he went back to the bars. On his way home, a child ran out in front of his truck. He wasn’t sited as it was “an accident.” But that wasn’t the last accident he had. He got two DUI’s before finally totaling his truck. He moved in with my mom. Alcohol had taken his wife, his kids, his house, and his truck. He was left with nothing.

When we got back home after Thanksgiving, he decided he needed a smoke. He didn’t have any so he was going to walk to the store. I offered to drive him, suspecting it wasn’t really cigarettes he was going after. After he had not returned home in a reasonable amount of time, I went looking for him. Sure enough, he was sitting at a bar. I sat down beside him, and he began telling me stories. His pain was so deep, and yet he seemed so numb. We had just been together as a family, and yet he felt so alone. I had no idea how bad he must have hurt, but just being with him, entering his pain, began to make my heart break. Sympathy – Compassion – To suffer with.

In his obedience to the Father, Christ took up his Cross. It is a cross of suffering and a cross of suffering with. It is a cross of passion and a cross of compassion. Our high-priest is not one who is above the fray of the mess of humanity. Our high-priest is not one who is immune from the pains of this world. Our high-priest is not one who is unaffected by the consequences of sin in a fallen and broken world. Our’s is a high-priest who in every respect has been tested as we are…who in every respect has suffered as we suffer…who in every respect entered into the fallen world and lives of mortals. For Christ it was a cross of utter abandonment. For us it is a cross of perfect presence.

As we gaze on the cross, we are reminded of the suffering of our Lord. Yet the essence of Good Friday is not mere suffering, but is presence, is solidarity. In his suffering Christ was most fully with us. Christ was most fully one of us. In his suffering he was most perfectly present with us in our broken existence. We are still left, however, with the question: Our God. Our God. Why have you come so close to us?

Why do we celebrate the suffering of our Lord? The author our text gives us a few hints about the importance of Good Friday. Why has God drawn so close to us? So that we can hold fast to the confession of our faith. We confess not some idea, or some ideal, or some philosophy. We confess a person. We confess one who is fully God and fully human. We confess one who was God, yet did not count his equality with God as something to be held onto, but rather he emptied himself and took the form of a slave. He was born as a human being. He humbled himself even to the point of death on a cross. Because we confess Christ, who sympathizes with us, who is compassionate toward us, who on the cross bore our suffering and suffered with us, we can confidently hold on to the faith, the God, that we confess.

Why has God drawn so close to us? So that we can approach the throne of grace with boldness and find mercy and grace in time of need. We need not be intimidated by God. We need not fear going before God. We need not worry about crying out to God for mercy. The Christ we confess understands the need for mercy and grace. In the garden of Gethsemane he prayed so fervently for the cup of suffering to be taken from him that he sweated drops of blood. On the cross he cried out in utter despair and abandonment. We do not confess a Christ who is immune from our suffering, but one who is present with us in our suffering and identifies with our cries for mercy and grace.

Why has our God drawn so near to us? So that we can draw near to him. May this Good Friday, be for you all a time of reflection on the Holy Cross of Christ: His passion and his com-passion. And may your reflection lead you to draw nearer to the God who would rather suffer and die than to live without you. To the Glory of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

What is ordination?

I suppose I owe it to you all to answer my own question. “What is ordination?” This is especially poignant in light of recent events by which I will be ordained on May 31. For those of you who follow the church-year, that is a significant date. It is the Feast of the Visitation. It is on that day that the church celebrates Mary’s visit to her cousin Elizabeth. Elizabeth sees the importance of Mary’s report. At the sound of Mary’s voice, Elizabeth felt a fetal John, who would baptize with water in preparation for the coming of the Lord yet was still himself immersed in the waters of the womb, leap for joy! She proclaimed to Mary, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb…blessed [are you] who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken [to you] by the Lord.” Mary and Elizabeth both stand as supreme examples of faith, and what the Lord can do in and through those who believe God’s Word. But I digress.

I asked a couple of weeks ago what you all thought ordination was, so I would like to respond to my own inquiry. It is a long and somewhat murky answer, so I will try to be as brief and transparent as possible. It must begin with a note about sacraments. It is often said that a sacrament is “an outward sign of an inward grace.” That is true, and the one who proposed this definition concluded it with, “and a means by which we receive the same.” Therefore, a sacrament is a sign of the work God has done in us, but it is also the vehicle by which God does said work in us.

There are other qualifications as well. For one (and all are in agreement here), it must be a physical or material sign. That is, it must be tangible. One cannot claim to partake of Holy Communion without bread and wine. One cannot claim to have been baptized without water. So now we have an outward (and physically tangible) sign of an inward grace and a means by which we receive the same.

It is at this last point that we begin to be bogged down. A sacrament must be instituted. It must be commanded. For most of history, there have been seven sacraments, but since the Reformation, there have been only two (in the Reformation churches). This issue of institution is where the conflict arises. The Protestant churches say a sacrament must have dominical institution, or must be instituted (commanded) by Christ explicitly in the Gospels. That leaves two: Baptism and Eucharist. The Catholic/Orthodox churches say Christ can institute the sacraments through His church. They include seven.

Ordination is one of those five that are counted as a sacrament by the historic churches, but not by the Reformation churches. Also included in that five are marriage, anointing, reconciliation (accountability) and confirmation. All of these are usually still highly respected in most churches, regardless of heritage, if not as sacraments, then at least as sacramental (like a sacrament, or having the essential character as a sacrament).

In order to understand ordination, we must understand its sacramental character. This is not just an administrative task – it is not just graduating from trade school – it is an outward sign of an inward grace and a means by which (those who receive it) receive the same.

To understand that grace we must look at those outward and physically tangible signs that accompany it. Many churches have three orders of ordination: the deacon, the elder (or presbyter, or priest – all the same basic New Testament concept) and the bishop. The sign for the deacon is a dalmatic and a Bible. The dalmatic is a garment worn with very wide sleeves symbolizing the towel Christ used to wash his disciples’ feet.



The sign for an elder is a stole, and a chalice and paten. The stole is a long strip of cloth worn around the neck and hanging down in front. It symbolizes the yoke of Christ and being yoked to Christ and to His church. The chalice and paten are the service wear for the Eucharist – a plate for bread and a cup for wine.



The sign for the Bishop is a ring and a crozier (staff). The ring symbolizes the marriage between Christ and the church, His bride (whom the bishop represents). The staff is that of a shepherd. As such, he is one responsible for shepherding the flock.



That summarized, we have only two orders: the deacon and the elder. The deacon symbolism remains the same as the deacon listed above: one who is a servant in the church, following faithfully the witness of Christ in the Gospels. The deacon is not a pastor and does not preach or officiate the sacraments. Understanding the deacon is thus fairly straightforward.

The elder is a little tougher. One cannot be an elder without being a deacon. Though we do not practice it as such, the theology remains the same. Thus, when we ordain an elder, that person is also ordained (at least sacramentally) as a deacon. And since we do not have bishops (we do have District Superintendents, but that is an office within the order of elders), the elder also assumes the duties and symbols of the bishop’s ministry as well. Thus to be ordained an elder is to be a servant, a faithful witness to the Gospel of Christ, forever yoked to Christ and His church, to be a faithful administrator of the sacraments, to stand as the church maintaining the church’s faithfulness to her groom, and to be a shepherd, tenderly loving and caring for the flock.

Perhaps I will reflect more in the days to come about the orders I am to receive, but for now I hope that this has been helpful in understanding the sacramental act of ordination.

Holy Week Blessings,
Eric
Home Office
Maundy Thursday, 2007