Henrietta United
Rev. David Inglis Mark
First
Sunday of Lent
“Sacrifice”
Scripture:
15Then
they came to
‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all
the nations’?
But you have made it a den of robbers.”
18And
when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to
kill him; for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound
by his teaching.
Sermon:
The
Bible is a treasure trove of stories about human beings like us struggling to
understand God and be in a healing, redeeming relationship with God, and about
God working in human lives and human history to help humans do that. Some of the stories go back thousands of
years, to times and places where human civilization and human consciousness
were in their early stages.
Let’s
try to imagine what it must have been like to live thousands of years ago. What would it have been like to have been
pregnant or for your wife to be pregnant?
Would you be painting the nursery and buying a crib and car seat and
looking at all the cute baby clothes? Or would you be living in anxiety that you
or your wife would die an agonizing death if there were any complications? ...or that the child would die in infancy? ...or that there wouldn’t be enough food to feed a growing child if
both survived?
You
could wake up any morning and find your life threatened by disease, injury,
flood, famine, earthquake, war, rape, or enslavement.
How
would you see God when you felt fearful and powerless so much of the time? You’d probably look to God as your protector
from danger and harm. And yet you would
also see God as sometimes unpredictable, vengeful, judgmental, and quick to
anger. How else would you explain all
the bad things that happen to people?
You’d be scared to death of doing anything to offend God, and would do
whatever the priests said you had to do to appease Him.
One
thing that the priests said to do, in early Judaism and in many different
religions, was to sacrifice something to God.
What kind of sacrifice would be good enough? In many primitive religions, sacrificing your
eldest son or virgin daughter was required to prove your sincerity to God.
We
see the ancient memory of human sacrifice in the book of Genesis, where Abraham
heard God tell him to sacrifice his own beloved son Isaac. Abraham and Isaac are obedient, and Abraham
is ready to plunge the knife into Isaac, who is lying on the altar, when
Abraham sees a ram whose horns are caught in the thicket. God has provided an animal to sacrifice in
place of his son, because Abraham held nothing back from God.
The
Jewish people interpreted this story to mean that God wanted animal sacrifices
to demonstrate their devotion to God. An elaborate system of religious laws was
developed that specified animal, bird and grain sacrifices for almost every
special occasion and every infraction of the law.
Now
let’s fast forward to Jesus’ time. Fear
and powerless were at a high level for the Jews 2000 years ago. They were an occupied people whose simmering
resentment of being oppressed by a pagan ruler (who called himself a god)
constantly kept
The
temple leaders, priests and money changers made out quite well from this
system. In fact, religious writer
Richard Rohr says,
By the time of Jesus, 90 percent of the economy of
the city of
This
may sound kind of strange to us. But
aren’t you familiar with this human impulse to make a sacrifice of some kind to
appease God or gain God’s favor? Many of
us were brought up with the tradition of sacrificing sweets for Lent. Or what if you’re late for a job interview
and can’t find a parking space? Have you
ever prayed, “God, if you give me a parking space and help me get this job, I
promise I’ll go to church every week and keep up my pledge....Oh, never mind, I
just found a place to park.” That’s
slightly tongue in cheek. But if your
child or grandchild was diagnosed with cancer, what sacrifice might you offer
to try to bargain with God? You might
even say, “Please God, take me instead this precious child.” We know something about this basic human
compulsion to sacrifice to a rather frightening all-powerful God when we’re
feeling powerless and afraid.
Well,
when Jesus came into
This
wasn’t just a condemnation of the economic exploitation going on, though that
was certainly part of it. Jesus’
cleansing of the temple was a deliberate public exposure of the spiritual
bankruptcy of the whole sacrificial system that is based on the belief that God
is a dangerous, capricious, vengeful deity who is likely to punish us or make
our life miserable unless we go through certain religious rituals and
sacrifices to appease Him. Only by eliminating that whole misguided system of
trying to appease a dangerous vengeful God, could the temple truly become a
house of prayer, where people would come in trust of their heavenly
Father/Mother without the need for intermediaries.
The
religious leaders recognized Jesus as a real threat to their power, influence
and wealth. From that point on they sought a way to kill him. And so by the end
of that same week, Jesus showed us in an extraordinary personal way an insight
into the heart of God. That Friday,
Jesus offered up his life for us on the cross, crying out words of forgiveness
as his hands and feet were nailed onto it.
It was the ultimate sacrifice.
So
how do we understand what this sacrifice means for us? If you look at the crucifixion through the
belief in a judging, vengeful God who needs to be appeased, then you see Jesus’
death on the cross as most of Christianity has seen it and still sees it. According to this interpretation, we humans
have sinned and deeply offended God’s righteousness. Justice requires divine punishment. Our sin
is so grievous and we have fallen so far short of
God’s righteous that the only just punishment is death and condemnation to the
eternal fires of hell. In order to
satisfy this justice, Jesus, who was without sin, took our sins upon himself and took our place on the cross, where we
rightfully belong. And God accepted this
blood sacrifice of a perfect man as a substitute for the punishment of our
sins. If we believe that Jesus did this
for us and we penitently accept this gift, we are forgiven and saved from
eternal punishment.
Because
we all know we have sinned, and because we fear death and fear God’s
punishment, this explanation of Jesus’ sacrifice has a compelling power. And many people have been brought into a
grateful, healing, saving relationship with God through this belief. I will not argue with anyone for whom it
holds power and meaning.
But
I personally do not believe that this judging, vengeful God who demands blood
is payment for sin, is the God that Jesus reveals to us. As Jesus is hanging on the cross, I don’t see
him showing us how we sinful humans have to sacrifice in order to get to God. I
see him showing us that God is willing to sacrifice in order to get to us. When
I dare to look at this humiliated, suffering, innocent man willingly dying on
the cross, I don’t see a man trying to appease an angry God. I see a man who is willing to do everything
and give everything to awaken the hearts and souls of us humans. We humans get so caught up in our stories of
fear and vengeance, power and greed, violence and death, that we lose touch
with the truth of who God is–the eternal force of life, hope, creativity, truth
and love–and who we are–eternal spirits created to discover this divine energy
and bring it into the world.
Jesus
died for us, who were lost in sin.
Yes. And Jesus’ death can open
the gates of heaven and heaven on earth to us.
Yes. But I see Jesus dying, not
to make God love us after all, but to show us how much God loves us in spite of
it all.
If
we gaze at the cross and let Jesus’ sacrifice enter our souls, we will see the
“man of sorrows” suffering because of the same kinds of fears and jealousies
that we carry, the same urges to dominate and control that we impose on each
other, the same judgements and calls for revenge that we inflict on others. If Jesus’ agonizing death is what it takes
for us to see where our fears and self-centeredness lead, Jesus is willing to
pay the price. He doesn’t condemn us for
it. He forgives us, because we know not
what we do. But he calls us to awaken to it, and to awaken to the merciful love
that he embodies as he suffers because of our sins.
But
here’s the hardest part, and perhaps the most important part. Not only does Jesus want us to believe in him
and receive the gift of this redeeming love.
He calls us to “take up our cross and follow him” in offering
this redeeming love to the world.
Now
before you all run for the door, let me say that in today’s world, Jesus seldom
calls us to sacrifice our life--and certainly not on a Roman cross. In fact,
Jesus told his followers, “I came that you might have life, and have it
abundantly.” But in order to have life
in all its abundance and fullness and eternalness, we do have to sacrifice
something. That something is our human
ego--that part of us that gets so caught up in our own fears, selfishness,
separation, pride, shame, and hostility that our spirit gets choked off. We have to take that small ego-bound self to
the cross, so we can be reborn into our bigger self.
I
suspect you know for yourself what happens when you let go of a fear and open
into trust. Or when you get released
from shame and open to acceptance of who you are. Or when you finally let go of resentment and
can breathe the fresh air of forgiveness.
Or when you realize that your life isn’t really about you, and you offer
your gifts to the world. Your spirit is
freer, fuller, lighter, more open, and more connected to God, to others, and to
the mysterious dance of life. Once you
have taken your ego to the cross, it doesn’t feel like sacrifice at
all. It feels like letting go of
something heavy, so you can receive the gift of abundant life that dances with
eternity.
So
as we begin this Lenten season, I invite you to think of something in you that
is holding you back, holding you down, holding you to your smaller self, and
that needs to go the cross for forgiveness, healing, or release. Jesus is there waiting for you with
outstretched arms.
And
as we journey through this Lenten season, I challenge you to take on a
discipline or practice that helps you embody the love of Christ more fully and
bring it into the world. Maybe it’s
being more present to the people in your life.
Maybe it’s approaching your work with your eyes open to opportunities
for ministry. Maybe it’s visiting or
calling or sending cards to people who need to know they’re not forgotten. You might forego desserts and give the money
to the food cupboard or to another worthy project. You might go on the Lenten Retreat and
increase your appreciation for God’s creation and take on new ways to care for
it. These are all ways of partaking in
the creative power of life and love of God that Jesus lived and died to help us
receive and give.
If
we do this, we will live out the mystery of communion with God and with each
other that poet Richard Wehrman put into words:
We are the cup
that holds
the wine;
we are the wine
within the cup.
We are cup and wine
for each other;
You are the cup
and wine
for us.
We lift,
we drink.
We are raised,
we are consumed.What spreads now—
this warmth,
this Aliveness—
we do not need
to speak of it.
Each
already knows
Its name.
1. Richard Rohr, Things Hidden:
Scripture as Spirituality,