Sermon for Friends Congregational Church
“Your Creation is Good, Father, for They Know Not What They Do”
Delivered by Reverend Dan De Leon
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Colossians ; Luke 23:33-43
I hope you all had a good Thanksgiving. And if you didn’t celebrate or relax in some way on Thursday, I hope you will take advantage of an opportunity to be thankful in the very near future. Seize your Thanksgiving as if it’s that day of Sabbath you want to keep holy.
I enjoyed a good Thanksgiving at my folks’ house in Austin with Stacy, Mac, Mom, Dad and my brother’s family. Things are changing in my family, though, and my youngest brother, Mikey, wasn’t with us this year. He has a girlfriend now who is wonderful, and he spent this Thanksgiving with her family in Louisiana. And Mac adjusted to no longer being the only grandchild with my brother’s wife having their little baby girl last month. Things will surely continue to change around the holidays for the next several years for our family.
But one thing doesn’t ever change. Every Thanksgiving night at Mom and Dad’s, Dad makes his famous hash with the leftovers from Thanksgiving lunch. That’s a tradition that doesn’t change. But on Thursday night I walked into the kitchen to find Dad buttering a roll to have for a light snack, not turning his unmistakable Thanksgiving hash.
Dad said, “I’m too full from lunch to eat that hash.” So I said, “Well, then let me make it. Teach me how to make it. Thanksgiving isn’t Thanksgiving without hash for dinner!” So Dad said, “OK,” and he walked me through it. I put some butter in a skillet and let it simmer, and then I put some stuffing in there and waited for it to get hot. And Dad said, “Now what you want to do is crack an egg over the stuffing, and then pour some gravy over the whole thing.” I did that, but then Dad picked up the spatula before I could retrieve it and started turning the ingredients in the skillet.
He kept telling me the instructions, but he was no longer letting me follow the instructions. And as he kept telling me what to do, and he kept turning the hash, and my hands rested helplessly at my side, Mom chimed in and said to Dad, “Hector, you’d better hand that spatula back over to your son, or you’re going to end up in one of his sermons again.” Check.
Dad was too worried about the traditional hash being out of his hands. And God forbid that it not turn out perfectly. He was so worried that he couldn’t let go.
Something else you can always count on at my parents’ house is that the newspaper is always neatly spread out on the kitchen countertop ready for anyone to come by and read, kind of like those newspaper clippings that hang on the bulletin board walls at Freebirds. Well, I read the sports section cover to cover on Thanksgiving morning; so, of course, I read about college football.
What was really interesting to me was the feature stories they did on Texas quarterback Colt McCoy and Texas A&M quarterback Stephen McGee. They’re both very devoted to their team. They’re loyal to the athletes that they take the field with every week, and they have some things to say that I think are worthy to mention in this morning’s context.
Now, after Texas lost its second straight football game of the season back in early October, Colt McCoy saw that his teammates were exhausted physically and emotionally. The wind was taken out of their sails. The fight had been sucked out of them. And in that moment, McCoy gave a passionate speech to his teammates to fire them up for the rest of the season. He just said, “Guys, we’ve got to let go. We’ve got to forget the things behind us and press on to the mark ahead.”
College football might not speak to all of us, but it bears a symbolism that we can all relate to. Basically, when things get rough, we’ve got to let go. When things look dismal in our lives, when it looks like there is no clear path to redemption, to resurgence, to new life, we’ve got to just let go. We have to trust God, put our faith in God and just let go. Sounds a little naïve, I know, but let’s put it in context…
When Jesus is in his final, dismal hour, hanging on a cross at that place called the Skull, he does not focus on the tragedy of the crucifixion. The Son of Man is being executed as a criminal among criminals, but Jesus takes this opportunity to turn his head to the criminal next to him, and he says to this man, “Don’t worry. Don’t worry about where you’ve been, the bad choices you’ve made, the tragic end that you and I now face together, because when the darkness fades, and the sun rises, you will be with me in Paradise.”
And as Jesus hangs there as a symbolic warning of what would happen to others if they dare defy the authoritative mixture of the Roman government and the religious powers of the land, he hears taunts. People mock him and make sport of him, but does he gnash his teeth? Does he join the ranks of his oppressors by spitting back at them? Does he give up? No, he prays for them: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Those taunts at the foot of the cross, “If you are the Messiah, come down from there,” and that mocking from the other man next to Jesus, “If you are the Messiah, save us from this mess we’re in;” they come from lives filled with worry and fear. The mocking and the taunts hurled at Jesus come from human beings who could not have faith in anything but the letter of the law, and that’s no faith at all. They aren’t insulting Jesus because they think their way of life is better; they’re insulting Jesus because their lives are just as incomplete as yours and mine can be, and they think that Jesus is just another car salesman peddling something that can’t fill that spiritual void.
The taunts and mocking came from people who could never trust Jesus, who could never have faith in his good news about God’s provisions to the righteous who take their lives out of their own hands and place their lives in God’s hands. They hurled those insidious taunts at a suffering Jesus because they could not have faith in what he was all about, and they couldn’t have faith because they weren’t humble enough, they weren’t strong enough to just let go. And are we any different than the soldiers and the chief priests and the criminal who taunted Jesus at that place called the Skull?
Listen to the taunts being thrown from one person to the next in our present day…
Supporters of the war say, “We hate you peace lovers’ inability to hang tough in the name of freedom.”
Peace-and-justice lovers say, “We hate you war-makers’ blind inability to see that war is not the answer.”
Israel says, “Six million of us were gassed, but now God gives us this homeland.”
Palestine says, “You took our homes; God will help us wipe you off the map.”
World leaders say, “You want us to disarm and engage in peaceful dialogue, yet you continue to arm yourself with no end in sight. We hate your hypocrisy.”
Democrats say to Republicans and Republicans say to Democrats, “Whatever you believe is wrong; I’m right. You will destroy this country. I hate how you run my land”
And all of us seem to be gripped by the same fears, the same worries that we cannot ever let go of from where we comfortably stand, so we join in that chorus of taunts. We hate when the world so needs wisdom instead. We hate when we should just let go and trust Jesus and have faith in our God.
This is what Paul is getting at in his letter to the Colossians. All that Paul is saying is that what’s done is done, and we should trust that. God has destroyed the temporal powers of darkness and death in this world through the ultimate, uncompromising victory of Christ’s love for all human beings. And now that Jesus Christ rules at the right hand of our God who craves only justice, who offers only mercy, and who loves even the ones who taunt and mock Jesus.
It’s a simple message really. Don’t lose hope in God’s goodness, and maintain your faith by always trusting in the victory of Jesus over the insignificant powers of this world. And we hear that this morning and think, “Yeah, that’s easy. I wouldn’t ever want to sling mud and Jesus.” Well, good.
We wish that it had been us out there at that place called the Skull. If it had been us out there instead of all those antagonists, then Jesus wouldn’t have died. On our watch Jesus wouldn’t have even been brought to trial, because he didn’t do anything wrong, and we know that. He would’ve lived to be as old as Abraham and Sarah, and we’d have more than the pages of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John to learn about his rich and fruitful life.
Hindsight is a proud thing. But the voices that taunt our Jesus resonate just as loudly now as they did then. For every day that goes by without resources, aide and prayer given to the millions affected by the cyclone that tore through Bangladesh, Jesus is mocked. For year that goes by with New Orleans remaining a substandard, subhuman third world country in the eyes of our country and our culture, Jesus is taunted. For every child that goes without an education in this country, Jesus is mocked. For every human being that is denied healthcare because they are told they don’t have enough money to pay for their lives to be saved, Jesus is taunted. For every hour that falls flat in these times of war, Jesus is mocked. For every young man that dies at the inexcusable hands of gang violence and genocide in this country, Jesus is taunted.
Is it our fault? Not entirely. Is it our responsibility? Yes.
The message this morning is really just a what if message: What if we refused to let the powers of this world inform our fears and worries, and what if we refused to let our fears and worries control us? What if we let go of all that stuff so that all of our time, energy, and strength could be spent on trusting God and having faith in God’s assurance that it’s going to be OK? What if we refused to let these changing times change our lives, and we instead took hope in one another, took courage in our Christ and took faith in our God?
Texas A&M quarterback Stephen McGee, who suffered undue criticism all season long this year, says this: “I’ve always felt that the ultimate measure of a man isn’t where you stand at a time of comfort and convenience, but more so where you are at those times of controversy and challenge in your life. I hope I can grow at those times and ultimately reveal a strong and good character.”
What if we never gave in to fear and worry at those times of controversy and challenge in our lives?
God is a like a bold trapeze artist who stands at one end of a tightrope that hangs over a frightening abyss. And that trapeze artist calls out to our timid crowd, “I’m going to walk this wheel barrow across this tightrope and over to the other platform over there. Do you believe it?” And the crowd says nothing.
The trapeze artist then waltzes the wheelbarrow from one end of the tightrope to the other, and the crowd is astonished. Then he holds up a puppy and he says to our crowd, “I’m going to put this puppy in the wheelbarrow and walk us back over to the other side of the tightrope. Do you believe it?” And the crowd says nothing.
The trapeze artist then waltzes the wheelbarrow and the puppy back across the tightrope to the other side, and the crowd is amazed. Then he says, “Now I need a volunteer from the audience.” And the crowd says nothing. But a little girl finally speaks up and says, “Pick me! Pick me!” So the trapeze artist comes down from the platform, carries the little girl up to the tightrope, places her in the wheelbarrow with the puppy and says, “I’m going to walk us all over to the other side now.” And he did. And the crowd believed it.
The powers of this world can scare us into standing perfectly still and doing absolutely nothing for the rest of our lives. And the longer we wait for someone else in the crowd to speak up and challenge the powerlessness of war and greed and ignorance and intolerance, the more Jesus will pray, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”
Our challenge is to change Jesus’ pray from, “Forgive them father, for they know not what they do,” to, “Your Creation really is good, Father, for they know not what they do.”
Sisters and brothers, do not let this world change you, but you change the world. For the sakes of God’s justice and mercy, and for the evidence of Christ’s victory over death, change this world.
It might still sound naïve to you. But think of it like this: When you give a homeless person food, clothing or money; when you donate coats to children who can’t afford them during these cold days; when you reach out to a stranger and offer friendship; when you listen to someone you disagree with so that you can truly hear yourself; when you refuse to let images on TV or rants on the radio inform how you view your neighbors in other countries; when you look at your life as God’s last hope for this world, you might not ever see the fruits of your good deeds. So, by being faithful, you might not know what you are doing. But God witnesses this undeterred faith, and calls it good. God sees the world change for the better because of your selfless faith, and calls it good. And the living Christ prays over all of us in these changing times filled with fear and worry, “Your Creation really is good, Father, for they know not what they do.” Amen.