Father, Forgive Them….. (1^st in a Lenten Sermon Series) Feb. 25, 2007

Romans 5: 1-11 Luke 23: 26-34

Famous last words….. Over the centuries people have often been intrigued with knowing the last utterances of people before their death, believing that in some way these words might convey the essence, the kernel and the meaning of an individual’s life. Quite a storehouse of legend and story, both humorous and profound, has developed around this idea. – including the jokester’s question “Do you know what the last words of Tarzan were?” They were – with an ape-like cry - “Who greased the grapevine?”

Last words may or may not be an accurate reflection of a life, but it is interesting that when PT Barnum, the famous circus master and entrepreneur who had once remarked “There’s a sucker born every minute,” was lying on his death bed his last words were “How were the circus receipts in Madison Square Garden?”..... Ethan Allen, the Revolutionary War general, was true to his crusty reputation on his deathbed. In response to an attending doctor who attempted to comfort him by saying, "General, I fear the angels are waiting for you,” he said “Waiting are they? Waiting are they? Well--let 'em wait.”……. I don’t know much about his life and character, but it is surely puzzling that the last words of such a genius as Leonardo da Vinci could be “I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have.”……….

The last words of Jesus from the cross, sometimes called “The Seven Last Words (or sayings) of Christ,” were remembered and passed along by his followers, though as you read the Bible you will find that none of the gospels have all seven sayings, and that each has a different combination. This is really not so surprising, for contrary to the way it would be in our modern, media-crazed culture, there were no stenographers or journalists at the foot of the cross, intent on recording all the details. Jesus’ crucifixion is a world-shaping event to us, but to the Roman soldiers and authorities it was just another execution of a small-time Jewish rebel and no one in power would have cared about recording this criminal’s last statements. Some of Jesus’ friends were present, but they were there to mourn, not to take notes and each had only a partial recall of their master’s sayings, which were later preserved and passed along in the gospels.

But over the centuries these seven statements have been brought together as a focus of devotion, as windows into the mystery of who Jesus was and who he is. During this Lenten season, as we move toward Easter, we will be lifting up his words, and it’s my hope that having thus gathered “Beneath the cross of Jesus,” as the hymn puts it, we will arrive at Easter with a special understanding and joy.

From Luke 23 we read

“The soldiers led Jesus away, and as they were going, they met a man from Cyrene named Simon who was coming into the city from the country. They seized him, put the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus…….. Two other men, both of them criminals, were also led out to be put to death with Jesus. When they came to the place called "The Skull," they crucified Jesus there, and the two criminals, one on his right and the other on his left. Jesus said, "Forgive them, Father! They don't know what they are doing."

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do….”

If nothing else, these words tell us something about the integrity of Jesus, and that he practiced what he preached. Anybody can sit on a peaceful mountainside and tell people “You must always forgive,” - a nice, pleasant thought – but here is Jesus, having been tortured and humiliated, ridiculed, whipped, pierced with nails, and had a crown of thorns thrust on his head, and in the midst of this, what does he say? “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they are doing.”

I bet that you could be magnanimous if someone came to you saying “I am so deeply sorry for what I did to you and I know I was dead wrong. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” Unless this was an especially hurtful incident, most of us could be gracious enough to forgive such a repentant person, but Jesus is made of nobler stuff than that. While he is in the midst of pain he cries out for people who are not sorry, who continue to mock and ridicule him, who have driven nails through his flesh and have crowned him with thorns. For such people he cries out “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

If nothing else, these words are a sign of Jesus’ integrity. He practices what he taught.

The words are also illustrative of a basic theology, a basic understanding of human life – as we think about the words “They don’t know what they are doing.” Was that literally true of Jesus’ tormentors? Did they really not know what they were doing?

If asked, the soldiers would have said “Of course we know what we’re doing. We’re following our orders and executing these three guys like we’ve done to plenty before them. We don’t know who they are, and don’t really care, but the orders were given and we’re carrying them out.……” What about the religious leaders who plotted against Jesus? Did they not know what they were doing? If asked, they might have said “Of course we know. We are eliminating a dangerous man from our society, who threatened the traditions, the established order, and the properly chosen leadership of our people. We would have been irresponsible if we had let him continue. It was our God-given duty to stop him.”…….. And what about Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor who sentenced Jesus to death? He might have said “Yes, I knew what I was doing. It was an awkward position I’d been caught in, but I made a decision to keep the peace and prevent an uprising. If one man suffers because of the need to keep the peace, so be it…..”

It’s ironic that Jesus was not killed by thugs from the dregs of society. He was put to death by respected leaders and authorities who knew exactly what they were doing and could give a logical defense for their actions. But Jesus sees in them an ignorance –not an ignorance of the facts but an ignorance of spirit. He sees a moral ignorance in people who aren’t even aware of their hypocrisy, a moral ignorance that calls evil good, a moral ignorance that blindly justifies selfishness and cloaks it in piety, a moral ignorance in people who have somehow fouled up their God-connection and don’t even see how lost they’ve become. Jesus sees this deep ignorance and cries out “Father forgive; they know not what they do.”

Do we know what we are doing, as we navigate our ways through life? Most of us know the basics of right and wrong, and if we were given a little quiz, to sort out a list of words like generosity, selfishness, bigotry, open-mindedness, honesty, laziness, etc. we’d know which to put in the “good column” and which in the “bad column.” We know the basics of right and wrong – most little kids do - but in practice people often find expedient reasons to do the things we know are not right, and to constantly evade the right but potentially costly things of life.

Jesus could not say of you and me “They don’t know the difference between right and wrong,” any more than he could say “Those soldiers just don’t realize that they’re hurting me.” The words “They know not,” strike at a deeper level.

Jesus knows that the human race is plagued with the ignorance that comes from that condition the Bible calls sin. It’s made up of people who can’t seem to help wanting to be the axis on which the world turns, and from this ego-centric position they find it easy to justify everything from crucifixions, to wars, to gossip, to prejudice. It’s made up of people who are blind to their self-justifying ways (though we can easily see this in others) and who are seldom aware of the far-reaching effects of their errors and shortcomings; of people who love themselves, not wisely but with the selfish and acquisitive love that sours everything……. Sigmund Freud was no theologian but he knew a lot about human behavior, and I’ve been told that he once remarked “At his heart man is just a sinner.”

But Jesus on the cross looks at the human race in its ignorance – ignorance not of information but of the soul – and yoking his understanding of our fatal ignorance with his understanding of God’s immense love, he asks that God forgive.

That’s amazing enough, but there is a deeper mystery – one that was probably not apparent to anyone standing by the cross, but which became clearer only in the post-resurrection reality that followed. Jesus not only asks for forgiveness, but plays a role in making it possible. His death opens the door so that all humankind may be forgiven, for the one who is nailed to the cross is not just some unfortunate human being, but the Son of God. “Why did Jesus have to die?” the first Christians asked, and they came to see that he was the one John’s gospel calls “the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”

How is God’s saving work done through the cross? It’s a mystery we explain with analogies and symbols, knowing that the explanation is always inadequate and inferior to the truth it tries to illuminate, but maybe this story will help shine some light on it.

Fiorello LaGuardia was mayor of New York City during the worst days of the Great Depression and all of W.W.II. He was a colorful character -- he rode the New York City fire trucks, raided city "speak easies" with the police department, took entire orphanages to baseball games, and when the New York newspapers went on strike, he got on the radio and read the Sunday funnies to the kids.

One bitterly cold night in January of 1935, the mayor turned up at a night court that served the poorest ward of the city. LaGuardia dismissed the judge for the evening and took over the bench himself. Within a few minutes, a tattered old woman was brought before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She told LaGuardia that her daughter's husband had deserted her, her daughter was sick, and her two grandchildren were starving. But the shopkeeper, from whom the bread was stolen, refused to drop the charges. "It's a real bad neighborhood, your Honor," the man told the mayor. "She's got to be punished to teach other people around here a lesson."

LaGuardia sighed. He turned to the woman and said, "I've got to punish you. The law makes no exceptions. Ten dollars or ten days in jail." But even as he pronounced sentence, the mayor was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a bill and tossed it into his hat, saying, "Here is the ten dollar fine which I now remit; and furthermore I am going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a town where a person has to steal bread so that her grandchildren can eat. Mr.Bailiff, collect the fines and give them to the defendant."

The following day, New York City newspapers reported that $47.50 was turned over to a bewildered woman who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren. Fifty cents of that amount was contributed by the grocery store owner himself, while some seventy petty criminals, people with traffic violations, and New York City policemen, each of whom had just paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.

A God of justice can’t say “Sin doesn’t matter.” The mystery of the cross is that God, in Christ is like that mayor – at one and the same time the judge and the one who pays the fine. In Jesus’ death God was making the sacrifice, satisfying the demands of the law, and opening the way for all sinners to be forgiven.

We may not be able to fully explain such a mystery, but with St. Paul we can give thanks. “It’s a difficult thing for someone to die for a righteous person,” he wrote to the Romans. “It may be that for a good person someone would dare to die. But God shows us how much he loves us. It was while we were sinners that Christ died for us. By his sacrificial death we are put right with God.” (Romans 6:5ff)

“They know not what they do” – that’s the human story. “Father, forgive” is the response of Jesus, who came to pardon, to forgive, and to open the way of life, and who challenges us to live with that same kind of forgiving love for others.