March 6, 2016

Susan Adams

Lent 4     Carter Heyward "Saving Jesus from those who are right" p.190     Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

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We approach the Good Friday solemn assemblies remembering the events surrounding the crucifixion of Jesus (although we might have scarcely noticed it this year with all the goings on here at St Matthews). Then move on to Easter Day and the rekindling of life and hope.

I want to consider briefly some of the early reflections on the Good Friday events, embedded within the traditions of the Christian faith, and pointing toward the aftermath flowing through centuries of church debates and councils, and gathering accretions of meaning and significance beyond the initial execution of the poor itinerant peasant called Jesus that began it all. Jesus was best known in his own day, it would seem, as a wisdom-prophet, who challenged both Roman and Jewish priorities. It was likely that he was remembered by the earliest communities as a martyr, one who died at the hands of the powerful for the cause of righteousness.

We have Paul to thank for the church tradition we are most familiar with: Jesus dying for our sins. Interestingly we note Paul was not an eye witness, and his earliest work was written more than 20 years after the crucifixion and 15 years before the earliest of the Gospels.

For those of you able to stay after church this morning we are going to be talk a lot more about all of this. What I have to say now is the backdrop! I want to talk a little about some of the established views of the event and its meaning, as a lead in to the discussion. Some of these views, or theories, you will recognise and feel ok about and some you might feel alienated by.

These views of the cross are usually referred to as 'theories of the atonement'. There is a number of images that get used in relation to the theories. The term 'atonement' comes from the Jewish festival Yom Kippur: the Day of Atonement. On this occasion a lamb was sacrificed and its blood spread over the altar symbolising the covering over of the people's sins. Many aspects of Christian atonement use images from this festival especially the 'blood of the lamb'.

It seems to me that most of the key theories we are familiar with are gathered together in the popular hymn 'There is a Green Hill Far Away'. We have all sung it many times – let's sing a couple of verses now and you will see what I mean.

There is a green hill far away

Without the city walls

Where our dear Lord was crucified

Who died to save us all. (v1)

He died that we might be forgiven

He died to make us good

That we might go at last to heaven

Saved by his precious blood. (v3)

This hymn is a mix of First Testament Jewish sacrifice images including the ritual loading of the 'scapegoat' with the sins of the people and then driving it outside the city walls; the sacrificial death of a spotless lamb, and the use of the blood to 'cover over' the sins of the people. It also mixes in Paul's transposition of these images onto the person of Jesus as the only one good enough to be the sacrifice for the sins of the people. And, in another verse there is the more legalistic 'ransom' notion introduced by Paul: that only Jesus could pay God the 'price' of our sin (or the Devil depending on your view) thus setting us free from them. Remember, Paul is addressing his own context amongst the gentiles with their experience of slavery and how slaves could obtain freedom.

All of this activity is directed at God who is outside our sphere. It concerns what we can do for God in the hope that God might fix things in us, and in our world, so we might be good enough to go to heaven when we die.

But what about if we turn that on its head?

• What if we notice what God is doing already – freely giving us gifts of life and love.

• And what about if we notice that while we might not be perfect, we are good enough! – that we have the capacity for love, for compassion, and we have the capacity to see and know what we can do with what we have to make this wonderful world a better place.

• And what about if we notice God, already at work within and amongst us, present in our world.

If we take this upside down view then it is us and not God who need to do things to sort out what is wrong. What it is that any of us needs to be doing will depend on our location within the structures of our society, our social location, it is not the same for each of us. Think for a minute about the parable of the son we heard this morning: the young man termed a 'wastrel' who returned home after years away. The main characters in the story: that younger son, his father and his elder brother, are each given the opportunity to address aspects of their own behaviour in 'real time', as it were, not for some virtual time to come. The prodigal came home, not because he 'saw' the need for repentance – he just wanted a good feed – the father was able to welcome him, unconditionally, with open arms and a celebratory feast; and the elder brother was invited to set aside jealousy, fear and resentment and be reconciled with him. And there are the party goers!

Our different lives will present us with different choices and opportunities: those with power need to be doing different things from those without power; those with wealth different things from those without wealth; men different things from women, black different things from white... None of the things we need to be doing are for the afterlife, none of them are about earning a place in heaven, rather they are about what we can do for each other now with the gifts we already have to make life kinder, more generous, and healthier. Nowhere in the gospels is all this effort to achieve 'salvation' (for that is what all this focus on 'fixing things' is all about), directed to sorting out the afterlife, securing the place we will inhabit after we die. Rather it is all directed toward our neighbours and friends, making this world a healthier kinder place now.

I once wrote a master's thesis in which I (as a woman) suggested that in a climate of violence such as in the world today presented to us daily, through our various media, we cannot afford to have as our central motif a violent image: we cannot afford the cross, symbol of torture and power. We cannot afford such an image, nor such a death as it points toward: we cannot afford an atoning death as necessary for freedom and fullness of life.

It distresses me, still, that the cross, and all it represents in its marvellous simplicity and clarity, is the paradigmatic image of the Christian community that proclaims peace, love, freedom and hope for those who are vulnerable or mistreated in our world: it is the conundrum I live with while sharing in the Body of Christ.

I hold on to the excitement of the father in the parable. That ever hopeful Dad not prepared to stand on his patriarchal dignity! Rather behaving more like a mother with his anxious watching and waiting, his embracing and kissing, his dressing and adorning, his feeding. And of course the invitation to his children to be reconciled. It is with the experience of such a welcome 'home' that we can find freedom and health and courage to share the work of salvation.

This sermon is influenced by Delwin Brown, What Does a Progressive Christian Believe?

David Galston, Embracing the Human Jesus.

Carter Heyward, Saving Jesus from those who are right.