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Jesus Died For Us

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John 12:20-33

In John’s Gospel it is not the Palm Sunday par= ade and ‘cleansing of the temple’ that convinced religious leaders = of the Jews that Jesus had to be ‘disappeared,’ as our whitewashed terminology calls it these days. According to John’s narrative, the corrupt money changers were chased out of the temple much earlier in Jesus’ ministry. (I was tempted to say we could use a bit of that on = Wall Street these days, but I’ll refrain. . . ).

In the fourth Gospel the raising of Lazarus is what finally pushes the religious establishment over the edge, making them sufficiently anxious about losing their authority among the people that they hatch a plot to kill Jesus --- and Lazarus, as well. Word of what had happe= ned in Bethany spread like wildfire, and those now convinced that Jesus was the ‘Messiah’ also wanted to make him king --- obviously misunderstanding the nature of that kingdom he’d been teaching them a= bout in word and deed. Many who went out to meet Jesus and spread their branches= on the road as he entered Jerusalem, were likely doing so in response to the demonstration of God’s power and glory in calling Lazarus back to lif= e.

Within this context Jesus speaks to his disciples the enigmatic words of today’s Gospel concerning the purpose of his own death.

I’m part of our Presbytery’s Committee on Preparation for Ministry that works with those who feel called to do professional ministry. We mentor candidates through the process of preparat= ion to make sure they meet all the requirements for ordination in the Presbyter= ian Church USA --- there’s more to that than just getting a seminary degr= ee. Last Tuesday we interviewed a second-career candidate who had completed her academic training, passed all her ordination exams, been psychologically evaluated to make sure her ‘savior complex’ is not too complex,= and we certified her as eligible for ordination. Many of you know that Sarah Dorrien, who grew up in our congregation, is among those presently ‘u= nder care’ of this Committee and, following the enthusiastic support of our Session this past week, Pat Stromsta will shortly be coming ‘under care,’ as well.

In the course of conversation with the candidate we certified, we learned that a subject of her intense interest is what are ca= lled “theories of the atonement.” She has her own faith questions to explore concerning the Christian claim that “Jesus died for our sins,” that somehow Jesus’ death on the cross was necessary to = save us, that his blood had to be shed to cleanse us from our sin. A lot of eyeb= rows raised around the table and a brief, good-natured discussion ensued. We all admired her courage in taking on a mystery about which church theologians through the ages have never agreed. Surely no one on our Committee would presume to have the definitive answer, so we wished her well!

The season of Lent does confront us with the mysteri= es of what was really going on at the ‘Last Supper,’ in the garden of Gethsemane, on Calvary’s hill and at the empty tomb. Did Jesus have to literally shed his blood and die for some God-ordained reason in order to m= ake possible the salvation of humankind? And if so, how does that work?

Or did Jesus simply know and accept that his fate wo= uld ultimately be no different from that of many others, before and since, who challenged on moral and religious grounds the injustices of those who exerc= ise power in this world?

“Theories of the atonement” are attempts= to understand how a ‘fallen’ humanity becomes reconciled to a just God. Some wording in the New Testament imagines a cosmic courtroom in which= God is a stern Judge calling us to account for the sins committed during the co= urse of a lifetime. Who of us would not be found guilty of a long list of unlovi= ng things we’ve done --- and loving things we’ve failed to do? Bef= ore receiving the sentence our guilt deserves, however, Jesus steps forward on behalf of those he recognizes and secures our acquittal by taking our guilt upon himself. Our sins are paid for by a sentence he has already voluntarily served for us in that eternally sufficient act of love and sacrifice on the cross. It is, therefore, through the blood of Jesus, as the ritual of the Lord’s Supper will remind us this morning, that a new covenant, a new relationship with God is made possible for us.

Those of you squeamish about blood might lean toward another traditional understanding of how we become reconciled to God: the “moral influence” theory. Jesus’ ultimate willingness to = lay down his life for his friends --- among whom we are all counted --- demonstrates to humankind the unconditional love God has for us and exempli= fies the way in which we --- if we get it --- should live with and for one anoth= er.

John’s gospel presents a communal understandin= g of the cross --- surely an appropriate perspective on a day in which new membe= rs profess their desire to be part of this faith community; a day in which one= of our members will share his words of gratitude for the relationships that brought him into and sustain him in this faith community; and a day in whic= h we gather at the Lord’s table to share the ‘outward and visible signs’ of an inward and spiritual relationship with God and the commu= nity of believers from every time and place.

Recall that today’s Gospel begins with an acco= unt of some Greeks who were in Jerusalem for the Passover festival, perhaps faith-seekers who wanted to meet Jesus. Scholars note that they approached = the only two disciples who bore Greek names. The significance of their presence pre-figures the universality of the gospel’s claim: the community of believers would extend beyond the original “chosen people.” The irony in this passage, of course, is that these gentiles --- these ‘outsiders’ ---seek a relationship with Jesus at the very time = the ‘insiders’ among the Jews seek to end their relationship with h= im. The Greeks also lend credibility to the observation of the Pharisees that “the world has gone after him.”

Though not looking forward to his coming pain and so= rrow, Jesus acknowledges and accepts that the hour for which he had come was now = here --- the culmination of his ministry and purpose. He intimates that his deat= h is both necessary and life-giving because it will result in the formation of a= new community --- like the seed that falls into the earth and dies in order to produce something much more than itself that will ‘bear much fruit.’ The paradox of Good Friday and Easter has its parallels in Nature.

Some of you saw the production of “Jesus Chris= t, Superstar” at Miller Auditorium a few years ago and might remember how the resurrection was presented. There was no empty tomb or astonished women= , no angels or familiar gardener. There was only complete darkness on stage afte= r a violent crucifixion scene.

Then a candle was lit . . . and then a few more . . = . and before long there were candles lighting up everywhere, overcoming the darkn= ess of death on a cross. That interpretation suggests nothing unorthodox in the Christian tradition: John’s Gospel tells us, a few verses beyond today’s reading, that the community of Jesus’ followers are tho= se who, despite the dark forces that appear to rule this world, ‘believe= in the light’ and ‘become children of light.’

A new community emerged from the sacrifice of the On= e who asks us to follow him and be with him in an eternal relationship. A new community was born and instructed to die to self-centeredness in order to b= ear fruit beyond itself in the form of love for God, neighbor and self. A new community was born and empowered by God’s Spirit to overcome evil with good and hatred with love. =