In her book Dead Man Walking, Sister Helen Prejean talks about counseling men about to be
executed by the state of Louisiana. In one case, a man talks to her about what his last words will be. He is
full of rage and bitterness and plans to spew vitriol and hatred with his final words. Sister Helen helps him
to understand that with his final words he has the power to claim dignity for himself and to begin to offer healing
even to those clamoring for him to die. In the end, the man asks for forgiveness and expresses his remorse for
the crimes he has committed.
It has been said that you can tell a lot about a person by their final words. What is emphasized when time is
precious and fleeting is sometimes a good indication of what lives have been about, or perhaps what lives could
have been about had circumstances been different. Today, we look together at what the Scriptures recall as the
words that Jesus spoke in his final hours before his death. These words, spoken from the cross, are words of honesty
and passion, and they give us a glimpse of what mattered most to him in his ministry.
According to Luke's Gospel, the first word is a word of forgiveness. Imagine the drama that was unfolding. Jesus
has gone through trial, has carried his cross along the rocky road to the mountain called The Skull. The soldiers
nailed his wrists and feet to the cross. They raised the cross and dropped the bottom end into a hole in the ground
so that it stood firmly upright. Almost immediately, it became difficult for him to breathe as he was forced to
lift the weight of his entire body as he drew each breath. The words spoken from the cross were not loud, bold
pronouncements. Instead, they were gasped out as he lowered his body with each exhale. Each breath, each word
spoken, caused agony. In such a circumstance, one would no doubt choose one's words carefully, not wasting the
precious energy on words without meaning. Looking around at those surrounding the cross, he saw the soldiers who
had just driven the nails who were already about to gamble for his clothes. He saw other soldiers, keeping the
crowds who had come to witness this macabre event under control. He saw the few disciples who had remained faithful
huddling in fear. With them were the women who always were steadfast when other followers faltered. He saw the
mob that had called out for his execution and had chosen the life of a murderer over his. He saw the criminals
on either side of him with whom he was to die. Looking at all of these people around him, he raised his body to
draw breath, and as he gasped he cried out, "Father, forgive them."
Forgive them. Jesus does not speak words of malice and anger. He speaks what instead is a prayer, crying to
God to show mercy to those who are taking part in this event. For those who oppose God's peace, Jesus cries for
forgiveness. To those who are too shortsighted to understand the plans of God, Jesus cries for forgiveness. To
those who know only violence as a solution to life's problems, Jesus cries for forgiveness. To those who seek
to thwart the unfolding of God's purposes among humanity, Jesus cries for forgiveness. Jesus' cry for forgiveness
is more than his pardoning these individuals for their individual acts. It is instead an assurance that God's
desire that human beings live in peaceful fellowship with one another and with God cannot be defeated. God is
the one who makes a way out of no way, and even in the midst of this violent and unjust act, God will be victorious
for in granting forgiveness. And for God, forgiveness is always about more than pardon. Forgiveness is restoration
to wholeness, repair of broken relationships, reconciliation between sinners and their God. In crying for forgiveness,
Jesus turns this act of violence into a vehicle for peace and reconciliation.
Do we dare to dream that Jesus utters the same prayer for us today? The headlines are filled with just as much
violence, hatred, shortsightedness and bigotry as was shown on that dark Friday afternoon so long ago. Just listen
to some of the headlines that have been in the Asbury Park Press in the last three days:
"25 Palestinians Injured in Israeli Rocket Attack"
"Man Killed After Stabbing Four People"
"Ex-Girlfriend Tells of Abuse"
"Victims Families to See Bomber Executed on TV"
"Gunmen Fire at U.S. peacekeepers"
"Racism Rife in State Police Ranks"
"Millions in Africa Face Food Shortage"
"Sharon Threatens to Send Troops Into Palestine Territory"
"Man Admits Killing His Children"
"Standoff Hurts U.S.-China Relations"
The forces that seek to thwart God's purposes for humanity are certainly not dead. Violence, injustice, inequality,
and oppression are still daily realities for most of the world's people. And yet, the message of Jesus' words
of forgiveness from the cross continue to ring across the centuries-God's purposes cannot be defeated. God will
continue to offer reconciliation and peace. God will continue to grant forgiveness and new beginnings. God will
continue to promise the emergence of the kingdom.
Perhaps the headline that should have topped the list of these is one that didn't appear in any newspaper as far
as I can tell. That headline, had it ever shown up, would have read something like this: "Christ's Church
Largely Ignores Needs of Poor, Oppressed, and Disenfranchised." Had that article been written, it would have
talked about how persons who follow Christ and claim to believe God's promises do not take seriously the promise
that God has the power to redeem all of our brokenness. In spite of the fact that in the midst of the agony and
violence of the crucifixion Jesus manages to gasp out words of peace and reconciliation, we act as though we can
do nothing about the agony and violence of our own worlds. In spite of the fact that Jesus assures us that God's
purpose for justice and wholeness is unstoppable, we wring our hands in despair as if there is no solution to these
problems. In spite of the fact that we live on this side of Easter and know that through the resurrection God
changed everything, we live like people who have no hope that anything can ever change.
To give into despair and hopelessness, though, is to accept what our world calls reality rather than the reality
that is shown to us through Christ. We live as though the forces of evil all around us have the final say, as
though the darkness cannot be penetrated. Jesus, by speaking words of forgiveness on the cross, by praying for
restoration even for those who sought to kill him, shows us that God's will always is triumphant, that, to quote
John's Gospel, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."
It would be so much easier for us to accept this, though, if everything we see around us didn't indicate that the
darkness had, in fact overcome the light. The fact is that situations do seem hopeless; despair does seem to claim
victory. The Irish rock band U2 has two songs that bookend their CD War. These songs capture the essence of the
struggle we face. The first song on the album, "Sunday, Bloody Sunday," refers to the centuries of violence
surrounding the British-Irish conflict. After four verses painting pictures of the stark realities of war, the
song ends with this couplet: "The real battle just begun/To claim the victory Jesus won." In spite
of the realities of what they see all around them, they still live with the hope that God's promises will prevail.
The final song on the album, "40," is based on the fortieth psalm. The lyrics are almost lifted straight
out of Scripture:
I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay
The song goes on to affirm, "I will sing, sing a new song" but then asks, "How long to sing this
song?" This tension is the tension that all of us live in as we live out our faith. We know that we are
called to sing a new song based on what God has done for us and what God has promised, yet we are stuck, languishing
in a world that glorifies songs of violence and hatred. How long, we ask, until we can sing God's new songs?
The answer is that we don't wait. We sing songs of God's redemption in this world, trusting that songs of God's
peace will ultimately drown out all the other songs.
The question for us today is very simple. Will we be lights shining in the darkness, or will we give up and assume
that the darkness cannot vanquished. Jesus on the cross shone light into the darkness of Good Friday. Every time
someone in his name claims the promise of restoration and wholeness for themselves and for the brokenness of our
world, they shine light into the darkness of all of those forces that seek to destroy God's plan for our world.
Ours is the challenge to continue to speak the good news of forgiveness in all of our world's Good Fridays. Forgiveness
that does not let people get away with what they're doing, but that provides the opportunity for them to be transformed
into people who are restored and made whole by God. In our Holy Week observance, violence and death do not have
the final word. In God's Kingdom, they never do. Which side will we choose to be on? Amen.
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