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Sermon at St Stephen’s Stanley, Passion Sunday, 21st March 2010
This morning I want you to come with me on a journey. It’s a journey in time. We’re going back nearly 2000 years. And we’re going to the city of Jerusalem.
We’re joining a cheerful, excited crowd, approaching the holy city, singing psalms. Our Master, our teacher, is leading the procession, riding on a donkey. We’ve been with him in Galilee, heard his teaching and his stories, seen the amazing power he has to heal and revive and turn people’s lives around for the better. We have caught glimpses of the kingdom of heaven. Now here we are, entering the gates of the city.
‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!’
What will happen? How will our Master be received here? What will he do? What kind of impression will he make? Will the city turn to him like the countryside did? Some gloomy people are suggesting that the city people are too wrapped up in their own concerns, too tied to their own way of doing things. They may mock him and assault him, tie him up, beat him down.
But Jesus is on the way to the Temple. The Temple! What an enormous building, far bigger that anything we’ve ever seen in Galilee! Bigger even than the hated Roman temples. And so beautiful! This surely is a place fit for God. But what’s Jesus doing? He’s shouting at the stall-holders and money-changers. He’s so angry he’s taken a table and thrown it over. There’s money in all directions, and the money changer’s furious! Jesus has always been angry about people who cheat the poor, but this could get nasty. Nobody’s going to like this. It’s not the way to win people over, is it? Especially the priests. They won’t want a trouble-maker around.
*
It’s four days later. Jesus has been staying with friends in the village of Bethany, a couple of miles from the city. Each day he’s gone into the city. No more scenes like that one in the Temple, thank goodness. Tomorrow is the Passover Festival, when we all celebrate our escape from slavery in Egypt. Is that the day Jesus is waiting for? Is he going to do something amazing that will win the city over?
But tonight we’ll celebrate the Passover supper. The meal is ready. Jesus is in a quieter mood. He takes the bread, gives thanks, and breaks it. He gives us each a piece, saying ‘This is my body, given for you.’ What does he mean? He takes a cup of wine, and gives it for us to drink from. He says ‘This is my blood, shed for you. This is a sign of the New Covenant between God and Man. Do this to remember me.’ We wonder what this is about. A new covenant? Is Jesus replacing the covenant God made with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, our ancestors? That sounds – exciting – uncertain – a leap in the dark. Will there be bloodshed? His blood?
But already Jesus has left the table. He goes over to the corner, and picks up the footwashing bowl, a towel, and a jug of water. He starts going from one of us to the next, washing our feet. What’s this about? Jesus explains. ‘You call me Master and Teacher. OK, if I’m your teacher, you should learn from me. I’m washing your feet, you should go and wash other people’s feet. You will be the servants of all.’
‘Now come. We’ll go down the hill to the garden there. It’s a quiet place, among the olive trees. I want to be close to my Father.’
*
It’s morning. It’s supposed to be the festival of joy! But everything has gone disastrously wrong. Last night – the peaceful garden – Jesus at his prayers – suddenly shouting and torches and armed police. We all turned and ran. Why didn’t Jesus run? They knew who they were after. We would have given our lives to save him, but he just gave up without a fight. Let them tie his hands and take him away.
Some of us came back and followed, keeping in the shadows. They took him to the high priest’s house, Caiaphas. He wasn’t likely to receive any mercy there. He’s a marked man. Peter took a huge risk. Tried to get in and find out what was happening, see if we could do anything to save him. But Peter was recognized and almost arrested himself. All we could tell was that there was arguing and shouting going on inside. It went on all night. They finished just before dawn, and dragged him out to take him to the Roman governor’s palace. You could see he’d been beaten up.
News spread, and we weren’t the only ones outside the governor’s palace. By morning there was quite a crowd. After a while the governor came out. Said there were two prisoners inside, and one of them could go free. We started calling out ‘Jesus!’, but there were only a few of us. Everyone was staring at us. Other people started shouting ‘Barabbas’. Jesus had done nothing to make himself popular in the city. And now he was paying the price. We tried to keep shouting for Jesus. Tears were running down my face. We knew what would happen if we lost. But there were more and more calling for Barabbas, and there weren’t enough of us. The governor had had enough. He suddenly turned and went back inside. And we knew it was all over.
*
Back in Hong Kong, 2010, we know that it wasn’t all over. The story goes on. It goes on with you and me. And today it goes on with Hannah Price too. As long as we keep telling the story, and passing it on, the story will never end.
The world needs this story. It needs good news of forgiveness and justice, and healing, and rising from darkness and death to new life. Without this story the world is cold and heartless, unforgiving and unjust. Wrongs are not put right. Wounds are left to fester, not healed. And life is nothing but a burden to be endured. ‘A brief candle that lights fools the way to dusty death.’
But with this story, life can become shot through with gold! The ordinary becomes extraordinary. Water is turned into wine, the hungry are fed, the sick are healed, and captives are released. All that is dirty or ugly or disfigured is redeemed by love. And the kingdom of God is near.
This is our story.