April 18, 2014 (Good Friday) – John 18:1-19:42
John 18:1-19:42
Centre Stage
Good Friday – April 18, 2014
First Lutheran Church – Winnipeg, MB
It’s always the part with Peter that seems to get you on Good Friday.
Peter’s strenuous denial.
Peter’s turning his back on Jesus when Jesus needs him most.
Peter is so disappointing here.
But Peter makes you think, right?
Makes you think of all the times you have denied Jesus –
in the things you have done, and the things you have left undone.
In the ways you have refused to follow Jesus in his way.
In the ways you have refused God’s call to minister to the poor, the sick, the imprisoned,
the vulnerable, the sinful, and the hungry.
In the ways you have turned your back on Jesus – when Jesus needs you most.
It’s always the part with Peter that gets you on Good Friday.
It would be mistake, though, to let Peter have the last word on Good Friday.
If it were just about Peter and his disappointment,
this would indeed be better called Bad Friday, rather than Good Friday.
But on Good Friday, we always read from John’s account of Jesus’ suffering.
And in John’s account it couldn’t be clearer that human fickleness and
human disappointment do not get to take centre stage:
in John’s account Jesus clearly does.
In John’s account, Jesus could not be more in charge.
From beginning to end, Jesus is majesterially in control.
He responds to questions by questioning in turn.
He does not ask God to take away the cup before him,
but instead here determines to drink the cup that the Father has given him.
And when the soldiers come to arrest him in the Garden,
he identifies himself to them by declaring “I am,”
a shortened version of the name of God, “I am who I am” (Exodus 4:14),
and so the soldiers fall to the ground in a gesture of awe before the divine.
And even from the cross, it’s Jesus who continues to direct events by
creating community even in the face of suffering by creating a new family from
a mother who is now bereft and a disciple who has no other family.
“Woman, here is your son,” says Jesus, “Son: here is your mother.”
It would be a mistake to make this day about Peter’s failures – and focus on them.
It would be a mistake to make this about our failures – and wallow in them.
We can acknowledge Peter’s weakness and we can acknowledge our failures and
the many ways we disappointment Jesus every single day.
But it would be a mistake to let them take centre stage when
the starring role for this day has already been taken.
It is Jesus who is willing to die for love for the likes of Peter and for the likes of you and me –
it’s Jesus who fulfills all things on this day.
It’s Jesus who reveals a perfect perfect love this day by loving us to the utmost by
being willing to die for the likes of us – and reveal the lengths God is willing to go to
show us.
It’s Jesus and his love for a very imperfect world that overcomes its imperfection on this day.
It’s Jesus who by loving the unlovely makes it lovely on this day.
And by that love makes the bad good – on this Good Friday.
The story ends, though, not with Jesus,
but with two characters who often play second fiddle to Peter.
If Peter often seems to get top billing in this story, it is the secondary characters here who
perhaps best reveal God’s intentions.
It is these characters on whom John wishes to shine the spotlight.
John ends his story on this day not with Peter but with Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus.
Neither, we know, is perfect.
Joseph is named a secret disciple of Jesus.
A wealthy man, presumably he is scared of losing his position, his status,
maybe even his wealth if it were known he were a disciple of Jesus.
And yet, on Good Friday Joseph outs himself as a disciple of Jesus with a brave public act:
he provides a respectful worthy resting place for the body of Jesus in death.
Even in death you see the power of the resurrection life at work in Joseph’s bravery and
in his willingness to honour Jesus: it’s a public declaration of his allegiance.
it’s a public act of love.
Nicodemus too, a man of position and honour who first came to Jesus furtively and
secretly at night so no one would see him –
Nicodemus now comes in the full light of day and he, too, outs himself as
a follower of Jesus.
In a beautiful tender act of love Nicodemus brings a hundred of pounds of myrhh and aloes
with which to anoint and honour Jesus’ body.
It’s an amount fit for a king.
It’s a public declaration of his allegiance.
It’s a public act of love.
Even in death you see the power of the resurrection life at work in Nicodemus’s
tender act of love in honouring the body of Jesus.
Yes: it’s Peter you maybe first think about on Good Friday.
But, finally, this day does not belong to him, or to us in our failures.
This day finally belongs to Jesus, who remains in charge of all things.
This day finally belongs to Joseph and Nicodemus in their devoted gestures.
Yes: we see ourselves in Peter and his betrayal.
But John is inviting us on this good day to see ourselves, too, in Joseph and Nicodemus.
For we too, like them, are capable of acts of bravery, and kindness.
We too are capable of public acts of love that declare our allegiance to Jesus,
public acts of love that honour his ministry of healing and feeding and forgiving.
For on this day it’s Jesus and his love that take centre stage,
a love that makes the bad good, a love that makes the unlovely loving,
on this Good Friday.
So together let us say, “Amen.”
Pastor Michael Kurtz
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