From the pulpit
Maundy Thursday
April 13, 2006
“Preaching the Cross”
(I Cor 1:18)
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Tonight our worship is structured around Luke’s take on the passion. Professor Craddock in his book, Cherry Log Sermons cites these essentials: --Jesus died on a cross at a place called Golgotha, --between 2 thieves, --with a sign above his head that read “King of the Jews.” --The charge was treason against the empire. --The method of execution was Roman. --They divided his clothes. --He was offered sour wine which he refused. –-He died at sundown on the day before the Sabbath. Those are the bare-bones of the gospel story. I don’t pretend to understand it. Still its Holy Week and I have to preach it.

I can’t fathom how something I did today was already accounted for by somebody 2000 years ago. Because it appears to me that Jesus’ suffering was not so much the will of God, as it was the will of those who assaulted him -- whose patriotism he offended; and whose theology he amplified. It was all so ordinary. Ordinary business, ordinary politics, ordinary religion, ordinary crowds, and ordinary us ... who prefer dead messiahs to living ones. Because living ones are so much harder to tame.

It seems plausible to me that it was God’s will for Jesus, like any of us, to live a long and fruitful life, brimming with the justice and love he was born to embody. When the religious opposed that justice, and reviled that love, Jesus kept on being Jesus. And he shouldn’t’ve done that...because the cross is the unavoidable consequences of being who he was. It was God’s will for Jesus to keep on being Jesus, even if the fullness of his life shortened the length of it.

But its Holy Week and its my calling is to preach it. Like the Apostle, who said: “I resolve to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” Paul called it a “Foolish mystery! And paid a high price for preaching it. They belittled him in Corinth. Stoned him in Jerusalem. Laughed at him in Athens. “What will this vain babbler say?” Paul said, “I have to preach the cross,” even though it sounds like nonsense.

Jesus paid a price for being who he was. Paul paid one for telling about it. Everyday was Passion-day for Paul. “I have to preach the cross.” Why? I don’t know because I prefer to preach the Church Year. That way you get to tell the whole story: birth, life, death, ashes, resurrection, ascension, Pentecost. Not just the crucifixion fixation. Besides, if all Jesus had to do was die, why didn’t God just let Herod kill him with all the other boy-babies-2 and-under in Bethlehem? Then Jesus would’ve died his death and that’d been it! But apparently Jesus’ mission involved far more than just death. His Passion must have meaning. Precisely what that is, I’m not sure. But Maundy Thursday’s as good a day as any to tell you what I think.

First, it reminds us how the world is. We still think wviolence and war is the way to settle disputes. But mostly involving people in 3^rd world countries, with pre-emptive strikes that don’t matter why. You know its so! Paul preached the cross, lest we forget this is how the world works. And its also how the Christian life is. To be a Christian is to get involved sharing God’s love in the world and other people’s lives; sometimes at risk to your good name, your mental and physical health. Your pocketbook. You get involved lifting people up because that’s what Jesus did. That’s the church’s main business. Put a rabbit in front of a Beagle and you find out what a Beagle is. Put a person in need in front of a Christian, and you find out what a Christian is.

Two of the churches I served had soup kitchens. That meant street people were always hanging around after worship asking for a handout on Sundays. They thought the Christians would be vulnerable, after they’ve had a good dose of the guilties tossed at ‘em in worship! Of course we knew better than to give out any cash for any reason.

But from time to time part of my calling is to listen to some fantastic stories. And every-now-and-then one comes along that strikes me as credible. I know I get taken. And the money goes for booze. But if I’m gonna err, at least let it be on the side of “compassionate liberalism,” right?

I’ll never forget one gentleman who stood around waiting for me to “shake ‘em out the door.” Out of the corner of my eye I could see him poised to make his move. I’ve seen it hundreds of times before. We had a funeral in half an hour so I didn’t have long to listen to his tale.

He had a typical emergency story, he needed “$30 to get to Seattle.” Remembering I stopped by the teller earlier on the way to church, I knew reaching into my pocket was a precarious risk. So he’s talking and I’m fingering ... these several bills ... hoping to pull out a one. “Please God, Don’t let it be a ten!” Finally I grabbed one and pulled it out. And (whew) it wasn’t a ten. It was a TWENTY!” His eyes got real big, ’cause he knew he hit the jackpot that time!

So I thought God might be telling me something. Get involved. One or ten or twenty, you get involved where you can do some good. We try to make a difference in somebody’s life because that’s the way the Christian life is. We preach that.

And this. We preach the cross because that’s the way God is. When we suffer, God suffers. No other religion has that kind of God. Only Christianity. I’m not saying that makes ours better. Just unique. It makes sense to have power, so you won’t have to suffer.

Jesus had the power to still storms on the Galilee!  But he used that power to love. Some folks would call that a wuss! But that’s the way God is. And if God wasn’t like that, we couldn’t sing “What a Friend we have in Jesus?” If God wasn’t like Jesus, there’d be no church. No forgiveness. No 2^nd chances. But Holy Week is our annual reminder that God is that kind of God. And Paul had to preach it.

What is this cross to which we’re headed? The heart of God, exposed.  Paul said, “I have to preach that.” So do I.