Foundry UMC DC: Sunday Sermons

Seven Last Words of Jesus

Rev. Dean Snyder

The early church spent centuries trying to figure out who Jesus was.

There were those who said Jesus was the perfect person, the ideal human being. Jesus was the person that God intended us to be when God created humanity. He was the new Adam.

Others said Jesus was God who had taken on flesh and lived among us ... the word become flesh, God in the form of a servant. God appearing in a human shape.

The church debated this with various theories and arguments for 400 years.

Then an ecumenical council of Christian leaders that met for 26 days, Oct. 8 to Nov. 1, in the year 451 in the city of Chalcedon, a city today known as Istanbul, resolved the question.

After many debates and subcommittee meetings and accusations of heresy and on floor demonstrations, the Council of Chalcedon finally voted 357 to 13 that the being of Christ was of two natures, one human and one divine. They voted that Christ was of two natures, one human, one divine; "united with neither confusion nor division." Jesus was truly human and truly divine. Fully human and fully God.

And so Christianity has said ever since. Jesus: fully human and fully divine with neither confusion nor division.

Christianity has consistently taught that we see this most vividly on the cross. We see Jesus Christ’s humanity and divinity most starkly on the cross.

The four gospels tell the story of Jesus’ crucifixion each one somewhat differently. Three of the four gospels report statements that Jesus made from the cross. We call them the seven last words. Traditionally they have been used as a shorthand summary of Jesus’ experience on the cross.

The seven last words of Jesus—

From the Gospel of Luke: Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.

Again from Luke: Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.

From the Gospel of John: Woman, behold your son. Behold your mother.

From the Gospel of Matthew: My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

From John: I am thirsty.

From John: It is... finished.

From Luke: Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

Sometimes they have been summarized as Forgiveness, Salvation, Relationship, Abandonment, Distress, Reunion and Triumph.

In these seven words from the cross we see Jesus as truly and fully human, truly and fully God.

When you listen to the words, it is sometimes tempting to think of some words as representing Jesus’ humanity and other words as representing his divinity.

Like, say, he is being human when he says, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He is being human when he says, “I thirst.” He is being human when he turns to his mother and his disciple John and says: “Woman, behold your son. Behold your mother.” He is being human when he says: “It is finished.”

On the other hand he is being divine when he says ‘Forgive them for they know not what they do.” When he says: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” When he says: “Father into your hands I commit my spirit.”

Some of what Jesus says from the cross seems so human, other things seem divine.

But no, the Council of Chalcedon says, Jesus is not sometimes human and other times divine.

No. Jesus is fully and truly human and fully and truly God with neither confusion nor division. Each of the words from the cross show us both fulfilled humanity and the heart of God.

Let me tell you what I make of Chalcedon.

Jesus was fully human like you and me. He experienced the same emotions that we experience. He thought with the same kind of mind that we think with. He felt the same kind of pain we feel. He knew the same kind of joy that we experience. He loved life the way we love life. He thought about death the same way we tend to think of it with a queasy feeling in our stomachs. Jesus was fully human.

But in Jesus’ humanity God became fully transparent … God’s heart, God’s intentions, God’s longings, God’s attitude toward us, God’s passions …. God’s secret identity became fully transparent in Jesus so that when we look at Jesus we can see into the heart of God.

Fully human. Fully divine.

So when we look at the seven last words we see not some words that represent Jesus’ humanity and some words that represent Jesus’ divinity. In each and every word we see both Jesus’ humanity and the heart of God.

It is not just Jesus the human being who experiences abandonment on the cross, it is God who experiences abandonment when we crucify, dehumanize, oppress, humiliate, torture, and execute another. It is not just Jesus the human being who experiences hopelessness and despair as a result of us letting people starve to death, die homeless in the streets, die strapped in an electric chair, die from the bullets of assault weapons we refuse to regulate. God’s heart also experiences abandonment and despair.

It is not just the human Jesus who thirsts. The heart of God thirsts for justice and inclusion. It is not just Jesus the human being who cares about Mother Mary. God cares about mothers whose children have died too young. It is not just Jesus who says it is finished. It is done. God proclaims a promised victory as well.

And it is not just God who forgives. When we are fully human like Jesus we will forgive too.

It is not just God who saves. When we are fully human like Jesus we will save one another too.

It is not just God who trusts. When we are fully human we trust too.

These seven words from the cross show us what it means to be fully human. They also show us the heart of God.

Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.

Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.

Woman, behold your son. Behold your mother.

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

I am thirsty.

It is... finished.

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

In Jesus on the cross we see humanity as we might be. We see the heart of God as it is. With neither confusion nor division.

Finding Jesus in a Hopeless Place

Rev. Theresa S. Thames John 13:1-5

Finding strength in a hopeless place of powerlessness

Rev. Dean Snyder Matthew 21:1-11

Gordon Cosby died this past Wednesday morning. Gordon and his wife Mary founded the Church of the Saviour in Adams Morgan. Gordon very much influenced us here at Foundry. I’ve written a reflection on his life for the Washington Post which you can find online or you can get a copy in our office.

Gordon’s memorial service will be here at Foundry Saturday April 6 at 10:30 a.m. Even if you did not know Gordon, we invite you to the service to hear about him and his ministry.

On your behalf I sent a letter this week to Green Street United Methodist church in Winston-Salem, NC, which you can find online or at our office. I encourage you to do the same.

We are going to have a time of prayer for the Supreme Court this morning so I want to get right into the words I have to share this morning.

The Sunday before the Friday he was to die in the most humiliating and shameful and helpless way that a person could die, Jesus proclaimed himself a king.

All this Lent we have been talking about hopeless places in our lives … experiences that can make us feel hopeless and we have affirmed the possibility of finding God in hopeless places.

Jesus, in the final days of his life, was in as hopeless a place as any of us could imagine, targeted for execution and death … living under a death sentence. And Jesus’ response was to declare himself a king.

All of us have had some experience of powerlessness and helplessness. Maybe we got a diagnosis. Maybe we have a loved one we cannot help. Maybe we have family members who do not accept us and we cannot change their minds. Maybe we cannot find employment. Maybe we cannot find someone to love us. Maybe we are helpless to control an addiction.

Jesus, in a position of powerlessness, declared himself a king.

I am amazingly thankful for the time in which I have had the opportunity to live. So much has happened in my lifetime.

The civil rights movement - I went from seeing African-American on TV hosed down by fire hoses for trying to vote to seeing the first African-American president of the United States elected twice. I am not saying the problems are all resolved. I am just saying that I got to see something in my lifetime that generations of Americans never got to see, never believed would happen.

I got to see the first women elected to Congress who were more than tokens. I got to see the first women elected bishops in the Episcopalian and United Methodist Churches. I got to see the first generation of women CEOs in Fortune 500 companies. If I am lucky I will live to see Hilary elected president. I am not saying that all the issues are resolved, just that I got to see something in my generation that millions of Americans never imagined could happen.

I got to see curb cuts. I got to see handicapped accessibility become normal. Foundry had a member years ago who was carried into this church in his wheel chair Sunday after Sunday, until we built a ramp into our basement and then finally a ramp to our front door. Think of the generations of people who never imagined that they could have access to places to work, and to worship and to play because they were differently abled.

I got to see Republicans and Democrats agree that we need to reform immigration policies. Years ago I served a church where we had a number of members from other places in the world who did not have papers. They never expected to be able to get papers. They lived in constant fear that something would happen to cause them to lose their jobs or to be deported and to rip apart their family. I got to see Americans agree that we need immigration reform. Many of the people in that church did not live to see this day.

I get to see the Supreme Court of the United States deliberate about same-gender marriage. When I was young, same gender love was called the love that may not speak its name. You could not mention homosexuality anywhere. Now some people tell me we talk about it too much and I should shut up already. I got to see that.

When Jesus was on the brink of being a big time loser, when he was powerless to save his own life, nonetheless establish the kingdom he believed in, he declared himself a king. And he became a king even though he never got to see it himself, except from heaven.

When I experience a sense of powerlessness or hopelessness about ending homelessness, ending gun violence, ending the new Jim Crow, ending discrimination against LGBTQ people in the church, ending world hunger, all the things about which I can become discouraged, when I stop to think about all I’ve seen in my lifetime that generations of people longed to see but died without seeing, I realize how little faith I really have.

Jesus declared himself a king when he was powerless to avoid his own crucifixion. Because he was confident that the kingdom to which he had given his life would come even if he would die on a cross.

How little faith I have.

Victor Frankl was a psychologist who developed his psychological theories after being a prisoner in Nazi concentration camps where his wife died, his brother died, his mother died. Victor Frankl experienced and witnessed the worst that one group of human beings can do to another group.

Here is what Victor Frankl said: “Everything can be taken from a person but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

We are never totally powerless. We can always choose whether we will despair or whether we will believe in God to do what we may not ourselves see in our lifetimes.

I am so fortunate and so are you. We have gotten in our lifetimes to see God move in powerful ways. I wish I had more faith … I wish I had the faith of slaves who never got to see emancipation but who lived with hope; the faith of women who never saw suffrage but who lived with hope; people differently abled who never saw accessibility but who lived with hope; gay people who never dreamed of marriage equality but lived with hope.

On the Sunday before his great defeat, Jesus proclaimed himself a king.

Finding joy in a hopeless place of depression

Rev. Dawn M. Hand Luke 10:1-2; 17

Finding hope in a hopeless place of grief

Rev. Dean Snyder Scripture: Luke 10:1-2; 17

The popular song that has sold the most records ever is a song by the singer Rhianna. “We found love” … “We found love in a hopeless place.”

This Lent our theme is places on our life journeys that can feel hopeless. Places where we can get stuck. Places like shame, addiction, grief, depression, powerlessness, and death.

Today, within the context of this sacred oratorio based on the Passion According to St. John – we want to think for a few minutes about grief. Grief can feel like a hopeless place. We can get stuck in grief.

Grief Is really about loss. Grief is our response to lose. It is loss that we get stuck in.

We think of grief in the context of the loss of someone we love to death, but grief can be about all kinds of losses … the loss of a job, the loss of a marriage in divorce, the loss of kids moving out of the house and going to college, the loss of our youth, the loss of our health. I have a friend who lost some money in the last big economic downturn. It is not that he needs the money really. In fact, he tells me he would have given it away. But still he grieves and grieves the loss of that money.

Maybe ten years ago Foundry hosted a weekend conference on healing. One of the workshop I’ve never forgotten was about loss and grief. The workshop leader said that the loss of a loved one, a job, our youth, whatever, was not only about the loss of whomever or whatever it was we lost but it was also about the loss of our dreams. If a spouse died, , our grief was not only about the loss of our companion, it was also about the loss of the retirement years we had dreamed about spending together, it was about the loss of the traveling that we had dreamed about doing together, it was the loss of the dream of seeing our grandchildren graduate from college .

All loss is about whomever or whatever we lose, but it is also about the loss of our dreams.

I want to go a step further. All loss is also about the loss of our imagined reality. It is about the loss of the way we believe reality is and ought to be.

When we lose our dreams, when we lose our imagined reality, there are two ways to respond, two ways to grieve.

In the story from the Gospel of John about the death of Lazarus whom Jesus especially loved, there are two kinds of tears in the story. There are literally two different Greek words used in the story that in our English translation are both translated as weeping but they are two different Greek words. There are two kinds of tears in the story.

When Lazarus dies, there are the tears that his sisters Mary and Martha and the professional mourners cried. The Greek word is “Klaio.” It is translated weeping but it can also be translated as wailing.

Klaio tears are tears of protest. They are tears protesting reality. This is not the way the world ought to be. This is wrong. I refuse to continence this. I refuse to accept this.

Klaio tears. I believe in Klio tears. I believe in protest. Protest makes change. Protest improves the world. Biblically, history begins when Hebrew slaves in Egypt cried tears of protest and moaned and complained to God about their slavery. History begins in tears of protest. History advances in tears of protest. Klaio tears. The tears that Mary and Martha cry.

But … when the Gospel of John says that Jesus was weeping, it uses another Greek word. It uses the word Dakruo.

This is the only place this particular Greek word is used in the Bible so it is hard to understand its full connotation, but scholars believe Dakruo is a deep inward weeping. Not wailing but a profound quiet internal weeping. I want to suggest that Dakruo tears are tears of surrender. They are tears of acceptance.

I think part of what the Lazarus story is trying to say is that tears of protest can change the world, but tears of surrender and acceptance can lead to resurrection.

Dakruo tears are the tears we weep when we decide to live our lives in the world in which we find ourselves instead of the world of our dreams and imagined reality.

Klaio tears and dakruo tears are both important, Klaio tears lead to revolutions. Dakruo tears lead to resurrections and new life. We need to cry both kinds of tears but we need to know which tears to cry when.

We need to know when to revolt and when to surrender. We need to know when to fight for our dreams and when to live in the world as it is.

Please bow your heads. For a moment, be aware of the person on your right. Pray in your mind and heart for him or her this prayer: God grant him or her the serenity to accept the things he or she cannot change; courage to change the things he or she can change; and wisdom to know the difference.

Be aware of the person on your left and pray for them the same prayer. Now pray it for yourself and repeat it out loud after me.

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

the courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference. Amen.