Listening to the passion story reminds me once again that one of the hardest things for the 21st
Century mind to grasp about the Cross is why this was necessary to remove the stain of sin and give
us a new start. Couldn’t God simply have waved his hand and declared everything square instead?
After all, he’s supposed to be all-powerful and can do whatever he wants, right?
Some of us saw the artistic motion picture rendering of the Crucifixion this afternoon as we watched
The Passion of the Christ. What we witnessed was a relentless story of savagery that staggers the
mind. When we see things like this, our minds and hearts become so saturated with
uncomprehending horror and grief that the only outlet for them is tears. Was all this really
necessary? Indeed there are people even in the church who think it’s high time to do away with this
whole sacrifice thing because it smacks bluntly of a more primitive time that no longer applies to us.
In response, I want first to assure you that by now I know better than to claim to know the mind of
God. It’s quite possible that, this side of heaven, we simply won’t be able to fully understand the
Cross. But there are some ideas I think that can move us a little closer to understanding.
The first is confronting one or two of our assumptions as 21st Century Westerners. Like the notion
that, by virtue of our amazing technological and scientific prowess, we’re pretty generally superior to
those who went long before us. C. S. Lewis called this idea “chronological snobbery.” That used to
be my default setting, I’m sure along with many here this evening who’ve had a Western education.
But when I read some classical Greek philosophy and the works of the early church fathers in
seminary, my perspective changed more than a little.
And I think if we’re even going to begin to have even an inkling of understanding about the Cross
there’s something we need to challenge. And that’s the idea that the Crucifixion was simply the
continuation of some outdated, Old Testament era sacrifice tradition. The writer of the Letter to the
Hebrews hit on this theme a lot. He wrote of the earlier priesthoods as a foreshadowing of the
priesthood of Jesus. And he wrote of the earlier sacrifices as a foreshadowing of the one perfect
sacrifice that removes sins once for all—the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross. That’s the first
point. The earlier, more primitive-sounding temple sacrifices were mainly pointers toward the one
sacrifice that really counts on behalf of humanity.
The second thing I think we need to challenge is our own projections onto God. We hear words like
“wrath,” and a domino effect of conclusions are drawn in our brains. Probably the main conclusion
is that primitive people were simply projecting onto God their own images of a despotic king, lord or
father. So God becomes this blazing-eyed, half-rational tyrant siccing his dogs on our mistakes so
he can bend us to his will. We don’t fully see that words themselves only approximate the thing they
represent.
So the challenge is for us to hit the ‘eject’ button on our own primitive ideas, and try to see the whole
picture of who God is. That’s where some of the words in the scriptures can actually help us.
Think of the word “sin.” There are a lot of nuances to this word that we’re likely to miss. It’s
meaning ranges from simply “missing the mark”, like an arrow that doesn’t find its target, all the way
to a destructive evil power. But the bottom line regarding sin is that, when God brought human
beings into existence, he intended us to live within the range of what he calls “righteousness”, or
more simply, “goodness.” But we very often miss the mark.
The effect of missing this mark over and over again, or for that matter, intentionally doing things that
we know are harmful to ourselves or others, is captured by another couple of words from the Bible.
Like the word “debt.” When we repeatedly sin, our spiritual debt increases. This may not
immediately make a lot of sense to our minds, but may make more sense to our hearts. I mean think
about it: We know we do wrong things, do we not? We know that we hurt other people in our anger.
We know that we let others down when we put ourselves first. And especially, if you look at what
God’s Word says about living a pure life, we know we fail at it, often miserably.
When someone cuts me off on Paseo del Norte and I lay on my horn, I may have a moment or two of
satisfaction. I may justify my actions because of the other person’s stupid behavior. But you know
what? A couple minutes later I realize that I certainly didn’t add any harmony to the world by honking
at the guy. In fact he’s probably even more defensive and aggressive now because I challenged
him by honking my horn. Do you see what I mean? We know we do unhelpful, bad, hurtful stuff,
and afterwards we don’t feel especially good about ourselves. When I do things like this I feel like I
owe something. I’ve pushed things farther out of balance. I want things to be good and at peace
again.
This is where another word comes in regarding sin. That word is “burden.” In fact the most recent
issue of Christianity Today has an article talking about how, in the Old Testament, sin was often
seen as a burden. There was an annual practice among the Jews that involved the high priest
laying his hands on the head of an animal to convey to it the collective sins of the Jews, and then
send it far away into the wilderness to remove the burden from the people. We know in our hearts
that sin is not good. It throws things out of balance and weighs us down.
It seems that God created us in such a way that we’re wired to feel unsettled when we have a
growing accounts payable column because of our sin (that is, unless we’ve so scorched our
conscience that we no longer even care). We’re uncomfortable with the burden this debt creates
within us, eventually to the point of despair. And if there’s one thing we’ve found from experience, it’
s that if sin is a debt, it’s a debt that’s not payable by any mere human being. And if it’s a burden, it’
s one that can’t be borne by any mere human being. We need help. We have a dilemma, and it’s a
dilemma that God sees clearly.
So what’s a loving God to do? Well, this is where we get to the Cross. If indeed God made the
universe and humankind in such a way that sin brings about ruinous results, that to us his pure and
holy light is dimmed by our self-made air pollution of sin, and if that pollution is indeed so toxic to us
that, as the scriptures clearly and consistently say, they’ll bring us down to spiritual death, we need
help. And the only one who could help is one who is a human, living in our skin, being tempted and
yet without sin, showing us the way to live; and One who is God himself, able to carry on his
shoulders the sin, pollution, and death of the sins of billions of people throughout history to deposit
them permanently in the grave. The way God made the universe, the balancing of the scales of
justice can’t be done without a price. And the price was the sacrifice of the Messiah, the Son of
God, who went willingly to the Cross on our behalf like a lamb to the slaughter, as the prophet Isaiah
foretold.
Today Christ our Passover lamb is sacrificed for us. And the “benefits procured unto us” by this (to
use the Rite One Prayer Book language) are beyond numbering. We are now breathing clean air.
St. Paul tells us that we’re set free from the law of sin and death, and says, “It is for freedom that
Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened once again by a
yoke of slavery.”
And we just heard in the Letter to the Hebrews these words: “The Holy Spirit testifies, saying, ‘This is
the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord: I will put my laws in their
hearts, and I will write them on their minds. I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no
more.’ Where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin. Therefore, my
friends, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary—the holy presence of God himself—by the
blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through
his flesh), and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us approach with a true heart
in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies
washed with pure water.”
The work of the Cross is done. Now all we need to do is access, to receive, the power of the Cross.
You know, sometimes it’s hard for us to really live into the new life. We allow ourselves sometimes to
submit ourselves to the yoke of slavery. We allow ourselves the sinful luxury of unforgiveness.
From time to time we’re reluctant to admit our own wrongdoing, and we hold onto our sins. We
forget that we’ve been set free, and cling to burdens that no longer rightly belong to us.
But this evening let’s remember and appreciate the power of the Cross. I’d like to invite any and all
of us who this evening feel like we may be clinging to a sin, or to unforgiveness, or to some other
burden, to do something about it here and now. What I’d like to do is allow us all about two or three
minutes of silence during which to reflect on any such burdens we may be carrying. Then at the end
of that time we’re going to distribute black-colored post-it paper—the black is for confidentiality,
black so others can’t see the writing on it—and ask you write very briefly the burden or burdens you’
re carrying, right on that post-it.
Then if you’ve decided you want to let go of that burden and leave it at the Cross, we’ll invite you to
come forward and stick it right on the Cross that Nate Bannister will be holding for you. As we
process forward with the burdens our worship team is going to lead us in singing the Taize hymn
“We Adore You Lord Jesus Christ.” And after this evening’s service Deacon Jane and I will bring the
burdens out into the courtyard to be burned. If you like, you’re invited to join us outside for that. So
now we begin a brief time of silence to consider and write down our burdens.

Unburdening at the Cross
Good Friday, 2010
April 2, 2010
The Rev. Dan Tuton