Speaker 1: Today marks the darkest point in our Christian year. Point where all of our fears are made manifest, where violence wins and hatred reigns, where grace and peace are left tattered on the floor. Of course, we know where the story ends. We wouldn't hold on to trust if we didn't, but for today, in order to believe, we first have to lose our faith. And this is one of the deep and lasting paradoxes in the Christian story.
That once a year, we let go of hope. And we embrace our doubt essential to our faith. We allow ourselves to sink into the darkness so that we can face fully what it means to be hopeless. Now, Sunday is coming and we cannot pretend we don't know, but today we are all atheists. Because our Lord has died and we struggle to see what joy could possibly be ahead.
As Jude verse 22 says, be merciful to those who doubt. Because today is all about our doubt. You see on Sunday, we rehearsed together Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. The symbolism and the poetry, the pageantry, and the politics of that moment as Jesus contrasts himself with Caesar. It is Caesar's representative Pilate who enters the city from the West.
Escorted by armed guards, riding a war horse, chanting slogans of imperial power, reminding the people not to test the patience of Rome. And then there is Jesus on the Mount Of Olives entering the city from the East that day. And in that same moment, surrounded by the poor and the forgotten, unarmed and riding on a donkey toward his counterpart. And later, these two kings will of course meet with each other. And Pilate will make the decision to crucify this man he knows as innocent.
And he will go against his own conscience in order to protect the power he has come to wield. Power seems to have this strange ability to undermine us in order to protect itself. John records for us this pivotal conversation between these two would be kings. Are you the king of the Jews? Asked Pilate.
Is that your own question or have others talked to you about me? Jesus answered. Look, am I a Jew? Pilate replied. It's your own people and chief priests who handed you over to me.
What is it you've done to them? But Jesus said, my kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my friends would have fought to prevent my arrest. No, my kingdom is from another place. So then you are a king, asked Pilate.
But again, Jesus answered him, you say that I'm a king. The reason I am here is to testify to truth, and everyone on the side of truth hears my voice. What is truth? Spat back Pilate. And with that, he went out to the crowd gathered and said, I find no basis for a charge against him, but the custom is for me to release one prisoner at the time of the Passover.
Do you want me to release this king of the Jews to you? And, they shouted back, no, not him. And, it's a pretty remarkable moment really. As Jesus has contrasted himself with Caesar, but now he puts that to the test. Now, one of my personal traditions is that every year during Holy Week, I reread a chapter from Mikhail Bulgakov's work, The Master and Margarita.
And be forewarned if you are looking for some light reading. This is a strange book that sits somewhere between fantasy and farce, and it jumps around quite a bit from modern Russia to ancient Palestine. But one of the chapters revolves around this particular conversation between Jesus and Pilate. And in Bulgakov's telling, Pilate is fascinated by this wandering philosopher slash preacher. And this man who appears to have very little interest in power or politics and he wonders how he has ended up here on trial before a Roman prefect.
So he interrogates him. Why are you here? Are you a king? Are you a threat to Rome? Or do you see yourself as opposed to us?
And at one point, Pilate turns to Jesus who Bulgakov refers to by his Jewish name, Yeshua, and asks, do you know a certain man named Judas? And if so, have you ever spoken to him about Caesar? The prisoner affirmed readily, yes. And is he a good man? Asked Pilate, a diabolical glitter in his eye.
A very good man and eager to learn, affirmed Yeshua. He asked me for my views of the government and the questions seemed to interest him very much. And what did you say? Asked Pilate. Or are you going to reply that you've already forgotten?
Already a note of hopelessness in Pilate's voice. I said, continued the prisoner, that all power exercised over people is a form of violence. And that the time will come when there will be no rule by Caesar nor by any other man. For humankind will pass into the kingdom of God where no sort of violence will be needed again. And this kingdom of God, will it come?
Asked Pilate. It will replied Yeshua with conviction. It will never come, Pilate suddenly shouted in a voice so terrible that Yeshua staggered back. See, many years ago in the Valley Of The Virgins, Pilate had shouted in that same voice to his horsemen, cut them down, cut them down. And now again, he raised his parade ground voice barking out the words so that they could be heard in the garden below, criminal.
Do you imagine, you miserable creature, that a Roman pure curator could release a man who has said what you have just said to me? I do not believe in your ideas. Then lowering his voice, he asked, do you believe in any gods? God is one answered Yeshua, I believe. And pray.
Pray hard. However, and at this, Pilate's voice fell again. It will do you no good. And see what Bulgakov's fictional accounting of this pivotal moment does for me is drive me headlong into the conflict that separates Jesus from those who play at king in the world. Because Jesus and his friends really are no threat to the armies of Rome.
Especially, since they refused to defend themselves anyway. But his ideas, his way, his path in the world if actually followed would threaten to destabilize even the empires that surround us. Miroslav Volf once wrote, that pilot deserves our sympathies, not because he was a good, though tragically mistaken man. No, he deserves our sympathies because we are not much better. We may believe in Jesus, but we do not believe in his ideas.
At least not his ideas about violence and truth and justice and power. And why would we? I mean, after all, as soon as this conversation is over, Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again saying, all hail king of the Jews.
They slapped him in the face. And Pilate said to him, don't you realize I have the power to either free you or crucify you? But Jesus answered, you have no power over me. And so, Pilate handed him over to be crucified. And here we are in holy week where Jesus has taught us that donkeys are better than war horses.
And peace comes through grace not war. And embrace Trump's exclusion. And yet, is Jesus beaten purple and bruised beyond recognition. Mocked and taunted and tortured and about to be executed. I mean, in this moment, what is there left to believe in?
It was a nice try, but it didn't work. And so Jesus is hung on a cross and as he is about to expire, even his faith seems to falter. Jesus cries out in a loud voice, Eloi, Eloi, Lema Sabaqtani, which means, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why have you forgotten me? Abandoned me, ignored me, and left me alone in this moment where I have put everything on the line for you.
And if even the divine son of God wonders if God is real, then maybe there is reason for us to doubt after all. Now, there are a lot of different ways that we have tried to make sense of this moment. And Jesus' words here are actually a quote from the Hebrew scriptures. Psalm 22 which begins, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the cries of my anguish?
My God, I cry out to you by day, but you do not answer. Psalm that continues, all who see me mock me. They hurl insults at me shaking their heads. He trusts in the Lord they say, let the Lord rescue him. A poem that ends, and yet God has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted.
He has not hidden his face. He has listened to the cries for help. And the poor will eat and be satisfied. And those who seek the Lord will praise him for all the earth will remember and turn to the Lord. They will proclaim God's righteousness declaring to a people yet born that God has done it.
And so perhaps the reason that Jesus quotes this Psalm is because he wants to believe. And when he struggles to trust, he reminds himself about God's faithfulness. And perhaps, here in this moment, he even recites the whole poem, but Matthew records for us the first line as a shorthand reminder for us to go and read the Psalm for ourselves. And maybe this weekend on Holy Saturday, while you experience the emptiness of doubt, you might read Psalm 22. From beginning to ending and trust that God is present even in your middle.
Where the world seems hard and full of Roman power. And yet, maybe there is more as well. You see, the theologian, Jurgen Moltmann, says that this moment here on the cross, this cry of dereliction is the very center of Christian theology. It's the moment where Christianity transcends everything that has come before and makes its unique mark on history. Because here, the transcending God becomes the imminent divine.
And God, who is holy other, experiences something new. You see, God has always existed from before time as perfect unity. This divine dance of trinity that we spoke of during lent. But now, in an attempt to be near to us, and to love us, and to show us a new way forward, to save us, God too experiences the despair of separation. And perhaps, Jesus knows somewhere deep in his soul that in the end, the power of the spirit will somehow bring him back to God.
And son will be reunited with father, But in this moment, God is about to be alone for the very first time. And God hurts. And God is scared. And God wonders if it was all worth it. And if it's strange for you to imagine God in that language, then imagine this moment for God who has never known anything but perfect union.
About to put God's convictions to the test. To see if love really can overcome the violence of the world. And to see if grace really is bigger than all of our sin. You see at Christmas, God becomes human. But at Easter, the human experience becomes part of God.
And our pain becomes holy. And our doubts become sacred. Because here, your struggle, whatever it is, is welcomed with open arms into the divine dance. And so if you have encountered the way of Jesus, but struggle to believe that peace can really overcome the world. Or if you've come to love Jesus, but you struggle to see how grace can honestly redeem and transform every moment of your story.
Then know that this holy weekend, as we await resurrection together, you are supposed to doubt the truth of this moment. And you are supposed to struggle with the darkness of this story. You are supposed to flirt with the idea of abandoning God the way that God sometimes seems to have abandoned you. Because it is only once we have become the cynic that we can truly experience the beauty of being brought back from the brink. So on Good Friday, Jesus dies and descends into the hell of being disconnected from God.
Trusting that the spirit will do what the spirit does bringing life and breath back to what once was dead. Because love wins, but only because love is willing to give everything away. And the faith that has never lost itself to doubt will always be one crisis away from giving up. But the supple faith that knows the depth and the doubt of Good Friday will always be more resilient than all the certainty in the world. So may you doubt well this Good Friday.
And may you hurt this Holy Saturday. Also that you might experience the joy of the spirit as it renews breath and life in you this resurrection Sunday. And Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his breath. And as evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea. A man named Joseph who had himself become a disciple of Jesus.
Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus' body and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. So, Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and then placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out from the rock. And, he rolled a stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and he went away to grieve, but Mary Magdalene and the other married stayed there seated opposite the tomb into the evening. And so, invite you to stay with me and Mary and Mary opposite the tomb for a moment. To reflect on the injustice that we face down.
To perhaps doubt your faith for a while. To find the trust that the spirit will bring you back from the brink. Let's pause for a moment of silence. And then I'll close in prayer before we go. Allow me to read three short prayers as we close.
Crucified savior, naked God, you hang disgraced and powerless. Grieving, we dare to hope. As we wait at the cross with your mother and your friend, Amen. Crucified savior, naked God, you hang disgraced and powerless. As we wait at the foot of your cross, help us to see the cost of our forgiveness so that we may be made new through your grace.
Amen. God of all the world, whose only son was offered up for us, have mercy on those who know you not. And upon us who know you, but often deny the faith of Christ crucified. Fetch home to your fold all who have gone astray. So that we may all become once more, one flock under one shepherd, Christ Jesus our Lord.
Amen. May you go in your doubt today, trusting that God will bring you back this resurrection Sunday. Amen.