25 May 2017

Sermon, Good Friday, Year A, The Passion According to John, 14 April 2017



The Passion Gospel of John is a love story. The crucifixion is a reminder for us that love never ends. That at the beginning of time God created us out of love, and God redeems us with love now and at the end of time.
In tonight’s gospel reading the evangelist, or writer of the Gospel, leaves off most of the “theologizing” and explaining of events he does in the rest of his gospel. Instead, we’re given a story that is almost painful in its simplicity. Yet this simple story becomes more than the “greatest story ever told;” it is the greatest love story ever told.
The love story we heard tonight is full of betrayal and despair and death. Yet over and over within this story there exists a kind of love that happens nowhere else: a love that never ends.
Jesus allows himself to be arrested because of the love he had for his disciples and the love he has for us. “Greater love has no one than to give up his life for his friends.” And, as he is arrested, Jesus protects his friends by identifying himself so clearly that no one can be mistaken for him. “Whom are you looking for?” he says as he steps forward. When he is told “Jesus of Nazareth,” he answers, “I am he.” And in order to be sure of his followers’ safety, Jesus adds, “I told you that I am he. So if you are looking for me, let these men go.” This is a love story moment: take me, not my friends.
Yet another love story moment is contained in Jesus’ words from the cross to his beloved disciple and his mother.
“When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.”

These stories within a story remind us, once again, of why this day, of all days, is called Good rather than Bad Friday. Despite the absence of love at the end of the gospel reading, despite the lack of Eucharist, despite the blackness and bleakness of the tomb, there is love. At the end of Jesus’ life, hope is there in these stories of love demonstrated even in extremis from the cross. And at our own death, at the death of our friends, our spouses, our lovers, our children, there is love.
In the midst of abandonment, there is love. In the midst of darkness so complete we see no glimmer of light, our stories, their stories and the gospel stories tells us the darkness will not last forever. Light and love will return.
In the midst of the story there are moments of love. Those moments give us a sense that God has not finished this story where it ends today.
I said this at noon today, and I will say this again tonight: the burial liturgy of the church, at the moment the body or the ashes of the departed are commended to God, we proclaim,
You only are immortal, the creator and maker of mankind; and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and to earth we return. For so you did ordain when you created me, saying, “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” All of us go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song, “Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.”
So this noon and this evening we have entered the story with all its blackness and bleakness and hopelessness. We enter it knowing God is not finished. There is more to our story. There is more to this story. Even when Jesus says, “It is finished,” God has more to tell. Even at the grave of Jesus there is more to tell. It is the story of love begotten, love given, and love resurrected. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2017

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