I really wish I could show it to you in video format to give you the full visual effect.  So I’ll have to ruin the “surprise” and tell you what happens visually at the end.  I had a sheet hung on a pole that represented the veil of the temple.  And when we talk about how the ripping of the veil represents God’s ripping the barrier between himself and us, I ripped the sheet from top to bottom and stepped through it.

Hope your Holy Week and Easter have been meaningful.  Christ is Risen – He is Risen Indeed!

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“Do You Understand What I Have Done For You?”

Sermon for Easter Sunday (year A)

March 23, 2008

Matthew 28:1-10, Ephesians 2:13-20

Introduction – the question

As I listened to the accounts of Holy Week in the Gospels this past week, I practiced “spiritual listening” – that is, I prayed that God would open my ears to hear something, and then I would listen for something to attract my attention.  When I do that, God never fails to catch my attention, and this time was no different.  I first heard this question last Sunday night as we worshipped at the Community Palm Sunday service.

It’s a simple question.  It comes in John’s account of that Thursday evening before the crucifixion (13:1-17).  Jesus is talking about what it means to be “great,” and he decides to give them an example of what “greatness” really is.  He goes among them, and one-by-one, he performs one of the most menial tasks  a person could perform in the ancient near east.  Countering their resistance, quietly going about his work while they watched in stunned silence, Jesus washes his disciples’ feet.  Then he turns to them and asks, “Do you understand what I have done for you?” (13:12)

“Do you understand what I have done for you?”

It sounds so simple, but like nearly all of Jesus’ questions, it has two layers.  In that shocking moment, it would have been dead wrong if one of the disciples had piped up and said, “Sure, Jesus, I know what you just did – you washed our feet” (sounds like something I might have said if I was there).  That disciple would have missed the point.

In essence, Jesus is saying, “I have just done something very important, and I don’t want you to miss it.  Don’t let the shock of the moment overcome your senses so that you miss the real meaning of this event.  If the Christ, through whom all things were made, who will sit in power at the right hand of God – if this person is not too high to perform a low task, then neither should you be.”

It’s a powerful lesson in servanthood.  And it’s also a powerful image of what Jesus HAS done for us – gave up all his powers of divinity, and stooped down to muddle among mortals for a time.  But if you focus on the towel, on the meaning of feet and dirt, if you focus on the worthiness of the people whose feet are being washed – then you’re missing the point.  Don’t miss the point, Jesus says.  ”Do you understand what I have done for you?”

It was a question asked in a particular place and at a particular time, but I think for our purposes we can translate it this morning.  Do we understand what Jesus has done for us?

The events we’ve remembered this week are shocking, moving us to rage and tears to see what happens to Jesus.  He’s mistreated, given a mock trial, beaten, shamed, whipped within an inch of his life, then nailed to a stake in the ground and hung to die in front of God and everyone.  Yes, the events are moving.

And the resurrection is thrilling.  Earthquakes, angels, bright flashes of light.  The evildoers faint in terror, and Jesus walks out of the tomb.  It’s sensational, even newsworthy!

But in the shock and the thrill, do we understand what God is doing for us?

God shows us.  In the midst of all the goings on in that final week and on Easter Sunday, God shows us exactly what he’s doing for us.  But in order to see it – in order to see past the spectacular events of that Good Friday and Easter Sunday – we have to understand what we NEEDED to have done for us.  And to do that, we have to go back in the story a bit.

Our Great Enemies (Genesis chs. 2-3)

We’ve had two enemies since the first few days of creation.  When God first created us, we were perfect and without blame.  The first man and the first woman lived together in harmony with each other, in harmony with God’s creation, and in harmony with God himself.  Only one warning was given – “do not eat of this tree, or you will surely die” (Gen. 2:17).

We can get into all kinds of semantics surrounding the story.  We can talk about the fruit, and what it would actually do if Adam and Eve ingested it.  We can talk about what Satan meant when he said, “You will be like God himself.”  We can assign meaning to the name of the tree: “the knowledge of good and evil.”  We can analyze the way the command was worded, or whether Adam and Eve were capable of keeping it.

But if we do that, we’re distracted – we’re missing the point.  Beyond the fruit and what it did, there was a simple fact:  God made one command, and ONLY one command, that he asked the two humans to obey.  If only WE had only one rule to follow – life would be simple!  But what they did proved what is in our human nature – even with ONE rule to obey, they couldn’t do it.  Breaking that simple rule was a sign of the first enemy that had already entered the world: SIN.

And when they ate that fruit, Adam and Eve found out the terrible consequences of sin.  We can talk about how they hid themselves, how they felt naked and needed clothes.  We can talk about the curse of work and childbirth, about the significance of the angel standing at the entrance of the Garden of Eden and blocking the way back in.

But if we focus on these things – guess what? – we’re missing the point.  The point is that SIN had come into the world.  Where there had been nothing between humans and God – they could see God face to face – suddenly now there was a separation, a veil.  Humans chose to sin, but God chose to put up the wall of separation, because we see later what will happen if a sinful human being comes into the presence of a holy God – no one can survive.  That separation was for our own sake, not for our punishment.

Sin separated us from God, and because of our sin, the second great enemy was introduced into the world.  When God placed Adam and Eve in the Garden, as far as we know today, they were meant to enjoy an eternity of intimate, face-to-face friendship with God.  But once they sinned, DEATH came into the world.  Now the man and the woman would no longer live forever.

Once again, we could talk about the meaning of death – was it a punishment, or merely a side-effect of their separation from the eternal God?  Was it just a physical death God was talking about?  But if we do this we’re… missing the point.

The point is, Sin had kept us from BEING with God, and now Death had kept us from STAYING with God.  Where before there had been no barrier, no separation in time or spirit – now there was a separation between God and his creatures.  They could no longer enjoy face-to-face friendship with God – SIN had ensured they’d have to settle with a distant acquaintance.  And even if they could see God face-to-face, death ensured that that encounter with God would last only a millisecond – certainly not for eternity.

So our great enemies, sin and death, worked hand-in-hand.  Sin demanded some kind of justification – some kind of balance.  You can call it payment, if you will.  All of us have a balance due.  And none of us can pay it, so our only choice is to pay with our very lives.

It’s easy for us to miss the point, especially those of us who have grown up in the church and have always been taught that we don’t have to be afraid of sin or death.  They are powerful enemies!  And we have to understand what they do to us in order to truly understand what Jesus did.

“Do you understand what I have done for you?”  Do we?

The Signs of Good Friday and Easter

God shows us, if we look closely.  God shows us, in those events of that week leading up to Easter, exactly what he’s about to do for us.  But if we get caught up in the events and the details themselves, we can miss the point.

We see it in three signs.  I want to prepare you for what I’m about to say because it’s probably going to be surprising.  It might even sound blasphemous, but I think Jesus’ question forces us to think about it.  The events surrounding the cross and the events of Easter Sunday morning are NOT the main things going on.  They make for a GREAT story, to be sure!  But they’re really nothing compared to the spiritual reality that has come about.  They’re only signs for us human beings who can’t see the real action taking place.

Think about it: Did God REALLY have to go through the spectacle of the cross in order to forgive sins?  I imagine there might have been another way.  But it doesn’t matter.  Whatever way he chose to do it is not important.  Beyond a man hanging on a tree, something else is happening.  As Jesus hangs there on the cross, in some unknown, miraculous, and unseen way, the sins of every living human being are being wiped out.  Sin is being handed his wages and sent home.  That’s a cosmic event, much grander in scale and much more vital than the simple act of one man dying, on a tiny speck of dirt in the middle of a vast universe.

The cross is only a symbol – a POWERFUL symbol, but only a symbol.  In very real terms, we see a mysterious reality that we can’t fathom – God himself comes down and allows himself to be crucified, in order that we might not have to suffer that separation from God.  It’s incomprehensible.  It’s moving beyond words.  But it’s only a reflection of the spiritual reality taking place.

So on the cross, we see that one enemy has been taken care of.  Now, through the sacrifice that Jesus has made, we can BE with God.  So why the resurrection?  Couldn’t the cross just be the end of the matter?

No, because there’s one enemy left to take care of.

Think about it: Did God REALLY have to go through the spectacle at the tomb in order to defeat death?  I’m sure it was spectacular to see the angel sitting on the stone, to see the bright flash of light and hear the earth shake as the tomb was opened.  But God didn’t HAVE to do it that way.  Jesus proves later that he’s able to materialize at will, so he could simply have chosen to reappear outside the tomb.  But beyond these sensational events, another reality is taking place: Jesus is the firstborn among all those whom God will raise.  Death used to be an enemy, a barrier, an undefeatable foe.  Now death has lost its sting, it’s been defeated, and it’s only a hiccup in eternity.  That’s a cosmic event, much grander in scale and much more vital than a flash of light and a rock rolling out of the way.

And yet, so much is wrapped up in that symbol.  We see in very real terms what God has done for us – we see the tomb – once the sealed and final resting place – now sitting wide open.  Turns out it had only been a hotel room for a two-night stay!  And this is what God has done for us.  He’s turned death into something we no longer have to be afraid of – death is no longer our greatest enemy!

The Veil Is Torn

Do we really understand what God has done for us?  Do we really understand what Jesus did?

I said there were three signs, didn’t I?  The other sign is one we miss so easily in the telling of the passion story.  It’s a sign that is given only one sentence of mention in three of the Gospels, and John doesn’t even mention it.  But to me, at least, it is the most powerful symbol of what God has done for us on the cross and the empty tomb.

The Temple in Jerusalem was a beautiful structure, one of the most beautiful of its day.  Herod had reconstructed it after the original had been torn down, and in his typical style, Herod did it bigger and better than any other.

The very architecture of the temple shows us the division between God and man.  There are successive layers – concentric circles – and as you move closer and closer to the center, the restrictions get tighter and tighter.  There’s an outer court, that’s for everyone.  But as you come through one wall, only Jews are allowed.  Then as you come through another wall, only Jewish men are allowed.  Then you come into the Holy place, where only the priests are allowed.

And finally, in the center of it all, is the Holy of Holiest.  This is the place they believed God’s presence dwelt.  Inside this small area was the ark of the covenant and several other very holy items from Israel’s past.  It was separated from the rest of the temple by an enormous curtain made of one piece of woven linen – 33 feet wide by 33 feet high.  It was thickly woven of beautiful, rich materials and gold might have been woven into it.  It may have been up to an inch thick.

So holy was this place, and so full of the presence of the Holy God, that the Jews believed if anyone entered that place they would die immediately.  Only one man was allowed to go into the Most Holy place – the High Priest that year – and only on one day of the year – Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.  And that High Priest had to prepare for weeks to be ready for that day, and could commit no sin or defile himself in any way.  And even then, legend tells us that the other priests tied a rope to his ankle, and put bells around the hem of his garment so that the other priests could hear him inside through the thick curtain.  If the bells stopped, they would pull on the rope to check and see if the high priest had been struck dead for some reason.

The idea was plain to see.  In very visible terms, the people could see the separation of God from his people.  God was too holy, and humans too sinful, for them to come in contact.  Mankind’s sinfulness and his mortality could not cross into the holiest place.

So the thick curtain in the temple separated God and human beings forever.  And the people knew about this curtain, even though few of them had ever seen it – because only priests could enter the actual building of the temple.  But it was there, a silent testimony of the protective barrier that God had placed between himself and his people.

But at the moment Jesus died, we see a curious thing take place.  When Jesus dies, three of the Gospel writers simply mention in passing that “the veil in the temple was split from top to bottom” (Mat. 27:51, Mark 15:38, Luke 23:45).  No mention of the reaction of the priests, no details of how it happened.  But that thick curtain, which no human hands could tear – was ripped in two from its top, 30 feet in the air, to the bottom.

“Do you understand what I have done for you?”  If you want to see a perfect picture, look no further.  Because when the temple veil was torn in two, the barrier that separated God and human beings was torn in two as well.  And suddenly, we can have access to the almighty God.

• Once, we had to count on a priest to act on our behalf – now we can act on our OWN behalf.
• Once, only one man could come into the presence of the holy God.  Now, because Jesus took care of our sins, ALL of us can come into the presence of the Holy God.
• Once, going through that curtain meant certain death.  Now, going through that curtain means eternal life.

Do You Understand What You Have to Do?

God has removed the barrier, torn it in two – and now the way stands open.  And here Jesus asks again, “Do you understand what I have done for you?”  Jesus has opened the way.  The signs of Good Friday and Easter show us that now we can come to God unhindered, with no fear.  Not only can we BE with God, but we can STAY with God.

But that’s not quite the end of the story.  You see, we could get caught up in the signs.  We could be moved by the crucifixion, excited by the resurrection.  We can know the story of those events backwards and forwards.  We can understand the theology of the cross, the theology of the empty tomb.  We can come to church every Sunday to worship the risen Christ.

But if we focus on these things, we miss the point.  We miss the greater spiritual reality of what Jesus did for us… and what WE must do.

Because we still have to step through that curtain.  God has made the initiative, has broken down all barriers.  All we have to do is come to him.  That’s all he asks.  But it’s so easy to get sidetracked!  So easy to be afraid of what we’ll be asked to do.  But the simple reality is – God has torn the veil in two.  Will we walk through?

“Do you understand what I have done for you?”  Do you understand what you must do – and have you done it?

Christ is Risen… He is Risen Indeed!

©2010 Notes From Jon. All Rights Reserved.

What I can post is my draft from the sermon last Sunday. The text – predictably enough – is the Triumphal Entry. Specifically, I looked at Mark’s version (Mark 11:1-11), but you really have to read all three to get the whole story. All kinds of cute names came to mind, but all of them involved using a word I’m not allowed to use, so I’ll let you fill in the blanks when you get to the end.

Remember that this is a preaching draft – I’ve tried to edit it quickly, but there are likely a few spots where I placed a note to myself that probably makes no sense to you. But I think you can get the main ideas.

Hopefully, after this weekend I’ll be able to finish some of my posts. But until then, I’ve got services to plan!

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One of the ways I look at a passage with an eye towards writing a sermon, is to look at the story through the eyes of some of the characters. It’s a helpful way to read a novel or story, as well – and even though the Bible is a retelling of actual events, it’s still placed in the form of storytelling. When you look through the eyes of the people in the story, even though you can’t fully get inside their head, you’re really able to get inside the story and begin to see what’s going on.

It’s like the movie Vantage Point, which I’m interested to see because of the premise – the President has been shot, and the only way to get to the bottom of the story is to put together the information of various witnesses from the crowd. [Note: I've actually seen the movie now, and while it doesn't really make my point like I thought it did, it's still a pretty good movie!]

Inevitably, you begin to like a certain character, or to envy their position in the events as they’re unfolding. You also gain empathy for others in the story, or find some whose shoes you’d rather not be in.

As I looked at the story this week – the story of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem – I decided to look at the story through the eyes and ears of the various people we encounter. In particular, I found someone I’d most want to be in the story, and someone I’d most NOT want to be. But while I was looking around, I found myself and… well, we’ll save that part for later.

Expectations of a Messiah

At some points in the story of scripture, it’s easy to miss the significance of the things that are happening. I don’t think this is one of those points. You just can’t miss the significance and importance of this event. There are energy and excitement – and a lot of irony. The energy and excitement come from almost everyone around, waving palms and shouting and celebrating. The irony comes from the main character himself.

It’s a climactic moment, the pinnacle of Jesus’ earthly ministry. If he were a politician, a traveling evangelist, a normal public figure, this would be the pinnacle of his career – the tables are finally starting to turn in his direction. All his miracles, all his preaching, all his days of healing and casting out demons, all these three long years have finally “paid off.” The people are finally beginning to recognize Jesus as Messiah.

But Jesus knows what the Messiah REALLY is, and he knows that certain expectations came along with that title.

We see these kinds of expectations all the time in public office. For example, Rudy Giuliani was rightly hailed as hero for the way he handled 9/11. But when those same expectations for handling crisis were placed upon Michael Brown of FEMA in the face of Katrina, he didn’t live up to the challenge. I’m not saying anything at all about the way Brown did or didn’t do his job; but look at the expectations that the public placed on him. And since there were no terrorists to blame for the cause of a hurricane, Brown took a lot of the heat himself.

To be hailed as “Messiah” was to be handed a whole closet of big shoes to fill. The Messiah was supposed to be like Moses reborn – a natural, fiery leader who knows God face to face. The Messiah was supposed to be like David reborn – a sensitive, godly leader whose military skills are unmatched. The Messiah was supposed to be Melchezidek reborn – the great priest whose insightful spiritual leadership introduced Abraham to God. The Messiah was expected to be Prophet, Priest, and King.

The Messiah job even comes with an unwritten job description:

• Cast off all oppressors,
• restore Israel to its rightful ownership of the land,
• bring all Israel back to God, and then lead the whole world to worship the one true God.
• And other duties as deemed necessary by the people – including healings, feedings, miracles, good speeches and the like.

Imagine if you believed that someone was prophesied to do those kinds of things today, and you realized that he had finally arrived. They believed that when the Messiah arrived, the world was about to change. Everything would be different at last!

Imagine if someone told you that YOU were the Messiah today and you had that job description, to restore peace to the Middle East. What kind of expectations would you feel on your back all the time?

Talk about “no pressure.” This is what Jesus faced that day as he rode into Jerusalem. Sure, the people were cheering and waving palm branches. But he knew that the expectations of the whole Jewish people were on his shoulders that day.

The irony is, Jesus IS coming to be all those things the Messiah is supposed to be – he’s a prophet in the truest sense of the word. He’s a priest if ever there was one – he stands between the people and God, and introduces us directly TO God (remember the veil in the temple). He’s a king, who will one day return to claim his throne.

But Jesus also knows what it will take to accomplish those things – he’s told his disciples half a dozen times already, in some form. He knows what awaits him in Jerusalem. And he knows that he MUST do it.

Let’s Have a Parade…

So Jesus asks his disciples to find a young donkey, tied up in a certain place and a certain way. The disciples are to tell the owners that “the Lord needs it,” basically impressing or commandeering the “vehicle” for official use. They place their cloaks on the donkey to make a kind of impromptu saddle, and Jesus gets up and rides on it. And as Jesus and his followers come through the villages outside Jerusalem, word spreads quickly: “Jesus of Nazareth is coming to Jerusalem! At last the Messiah is here to set us free!”

A crowd forms, following behind – waiting for something exciting to happen, for the fighting to start. Maybe he’s going to confront Pontius Pilate and the Romans right now? Maybe he’s got an army hiding on the Mount of Olives! In the meantime, word races ahead of them, and people come out of their houses along the road to watch as Jesus comes by. The excitement is building so rapidly that people begin to clap, and then to cheer… and finally, the little procession becomes a parade.

“Hosanna!” the people yell, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” It’s a Psalm they’re quoting – one about God coming in might to rescue his people, with signs and wonders and defeating many armies. They send the children off to cut down palm branches, and they wave them and throw them on the ground in front of Jesus as he rides through – things they would do for a mighty king or general returning from battle. Some even show the ultimate respect, taking off their cloaks and putting them on the ground for Jesus to ride on – the kind of thing you did for someone you thought was divine, as if the ground were not worthy of being walked on by them.

Through Different Eyes

It would have been an exciting scene for almost anyone present. But from Jesus’ point of view, things must have looked very different. I’m convinced Jesus knew what was happening around him, knew the hearts of those present. Jesus knew what was ahead and who would play a part. And I imagine he couldn’t help but think about that as he looked at the people around him.

There, walking beside the donkey, laughing and cheering along until he’s horse from yelling. Jesus knows this man – it’s Judas Iscariot, the moneykeeper… who already knows what he’s planning to do, and is just looking for the right time to do it.

Here on this side is a man who looks nervously around, watching the crowd for any hint of resistance. Finally after several minutes, he begins to get into the spirit of the moment. He reaches over and puts his hand on the donkey, looks up at Jesus with a wink, then lets out a huge bellow as he recognizes a friend – and suddenly he’s lost in the crowd. It’s Peter, Jesus’ close friend… who will deny him and run away in less than a week, won’t even come to be at Jesus’ side as he dies.

There in the crowd, that tall fellow with the beard, he’s taking off his cloak and bowing down as Jesus rides past. When his cloak is off, you can see the glint of metal in the sunlight – a shortsword is hanging from his belt. This man is one of the Zealots, a Jewish soldier itching to start an insurrection at any moment, always ready for battle. He sees at last in Jesus a man who has the charisma and leadership to start a war with the Romans. But as time goes by, he realizes this is not at all who Jesus came to be. And as the man cheers, Jesus recognizes his voice – in a few days, in the silence after Pilate asks, “what would you have me do with this man?” this man’s will be the first voice raised to cry, “crucify him!”

Over there, standing in the door to her store, is a woman who is waving and cheering along with the crowd. She’s tired of the hypocrisy of the religious leaders, and she’s been waiting for someone who will come in and make things right in the temple again. She sees at last in Jesus a High Priest who will restore order and honor to the Temple and the priesthood. Tomorrow her heart will beat in excitement as she hears the story of how Jesus came into the temple with a whip, turning over the tables of the moneychangers. But as the week goes by, she realizes Jesus is not going to be that kind of priest at all. Why, he even said he’d tear down the Temple! She’s the one who comes to his cross on Friday and spits at his feet and says, “You said you could tear down the temple and rebuild it in three days! Let’s see you come down from the cross and save yourself!”

There, next to the synagogue in the little village closest to Jerusalem, is a clump of men easily identified by their robes – they are Pharisees, and very powerful men who sit on the ruling council. They heard about the hubbub, and came down from the Temple to see what is going on. Jesus looks into their eyes and knows their hearts. While everyone else is cheering, they frown and glare at Jesus as he passes, their stares burning into him as they whisper quietly to each other. They understand crowd dynamics, and they know Jesus has no army waiting outside town. They’ll bide their time, waiting for the time when public opinion has swung the other direction.

So this simple scene, that probably lasts no more than a few minutes, is actually a very complex scene. In a way, it’s a climax of the story so far – Jesus is finally being hailed as King and Messiah! But it’s a bittersweet moment, because only Jesus realizes just what it means to be the Messiah, and he can already see his future murderers standing along the roadside as he marches into a trap.

The Characters

So whose eyes were you looking through as you listened to the story? Who would you WANT to be?

The more I read into the story, I’m not sure I want to be ANY of the people there that day. Jesus was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. The disciples are in for a heartbreak in a few days. The Pharisees already have murder on their minds. The crowd is only counting on expectations that no one could meet. No, I don’t think I would want to be any of these…

I’ll tell you who I want to be: the donkey.

• The donkey didn’t have an agenda. All he had to do was walk, and let people pet him and love him. He got to walk on a soft carpet of palm branches and clothes.

• The donkey didn’t have an emotional investment in the situation at hand. He wasn’t going to be upset in a few days when he hears what happens to Jesus. He’s really only like a taxi driver.

• The donkey didn’t have any expectations to be upset. He didn’t expect something of Jesus that Jesus would not do.

• The donkey didn’t have any expectations placed on him. No one was expecting him to be the savior of the world!

There are very few times I would want to be a donkey, but this is one of them! As far as this parade goes, the donkey has got it made! He can take Jesus into town, head back to his pad, grab some hay, and lay down to get a good night’s sleep. No controversial sermons, no plotting and conniving for him.

But to be the donkey would suppose that I don’t have an agenda. To be the donkey would suppose that I don’t have any emotional investment in what’s going on. To be the donkey would suppose that I don’t have any expectations of Jesus. To be the donkey would suppose that there are no expectations placed on ME.

But none of this is true. I’ve found myself in the story, alright. I’m in all of those places I didn’t want to be. Question is, where do I go from here?

©2010 Notes From Jon. All Rights Reserved.