April 7, 2023

Good Friday Year A

Epiphany, Winnipeg

John 18:1-19:42

Just a few days ago I heard a rabbi speaking about Holy Week and some of these stories we Christians hear during Holy Week. He talked about some of the things we hear, like comments about Jews or Judeans in this story we just heard, and about how these things have been turned around to suggest that somehow the gospels are portraying all Jews as enemies of Jesus. And the rabbi talked about how scary a time Holy Week has so often been throughout hundreds of years of history, and still is for some people in his community, because during Holy Week violence against Jews has increased, and anti-Semitic activity has increased. As he spoke I could imagine an entire nation of people, an entire community of people, coming into Holy Week and holding their breath….while they wait to see what’s going to happen.

Every now and then during a busy time or a tense time or an angry time or a tired time one of us in our household will say “Remember to breathe.” Because sometimes when things are tense everything gets so tight and we get so anxious that we forget to do the most natural thing in the world – to breathe. Or sometimes when things are tense or angry or busy or tired or scary I’ll notice, and maybe you’ve done the same, that I’m not breathing. Well, barely breathing. And on deep breath slows things down for a minute or two, one deep breath of the spirit – the same word in Greek – and the picture changes and for a moment, maybe just for a moment, I can breathe again. And the fear or the anger or the tired ease off for a time.

Imagine the story we just heard, filled with people who can’t breathe. The fear runs too deep, or the shame hurts too much, or the anger – there’s so much anger in here. It’s not a yoga or meditation story about breathing. But is seems like a story of events that spin out of control. There’s always a question about whether Judas really knew what he was doing or what would happen when he handed Jesus over, and once he did that things took on a life of their own, out of his control. Imagine Peter saying three times that he had no idea who Jesus his teacher and friend and travel companion is, and then imagine Peter saying, “What on earth have I done?,” and then catching his breath…. Or people in a crowd, not really thinking, just letting events unfold and letting themselves get carried away like people in mobs so often do. Or imagine Mary, Jesus’ mother, or Mary Magdalene, Jesus’ close friend, watching and wondering and asking what on earth is going on. It’s like events all spin out of control and the breath is being sucked out of everyone on the scene. Spirits are running dry.

It's like life in the world, you know. Take a minute and I won’t give you a list, although it’s tempting, because you know what’s going on in the world all around and in the world inside. Take a minute and ponder that world, notice that world, where events spin out of control, and nobody knows the outcome; sometimes the world forgets to breathe.

That’s the world that Jesus enters. The world of his mother Mary and Pilate, and Judas and a disciple Jesus loves, and Mary Magdalene and a woman by a fire, and police in a garden and so on and so on and the events unfold and maybe even Pilate, in charge of the whole show, can’t really get a handle on what’s going on.

The only control there seems to be is that the powerful who want someone silenced finally get their way.

And Jesus is not protected from all of that. In some ways that’s the point of this day. Jesus comes into a world that spins out of control, and he doesn’t get it all under control and whip it into shape. He suffers and dies along with all those who suffer and die and just can’t catch their breath.

But along the way we hear a time here and a time there, something like, “And Jesus, knowing that his hour has come.” Jesus doesn’t control the events. But he seems to know where it’s all leading; he knows where he’ll end up, but he takes a breath and keeps going there anyway. And then his last words are “It is finished.” That is, “It is done.” “It is completed.” In a world spinning out of control, in a world where everyone is out of breath, Jesus breathes and says “What we set out to do is done.” And then he hands over his spirit. He hands over his breath to the one he calls Father, to the God whose breath gave life to creation. And he dies, and we wait with baited breath to see what God’s spirit, God’s breath, will do next.

The story ends with dying, but it’s really a story of life. It’s a story of things out of control but God’s spirit will not stop breathing, God will not stop breathing, and the whole story is for the breath, the spirit, the life of all.

You remember that scene in the garden, and you can imagine the gardern with its trees and undergrowth and smell of earth and maybe fresh evening rain. Jesus is handed over and hands over his breath for the life of the whole creation, for the thriving and the beauty and the joy of creation.

Jesus is there in a courtroom and a trial and in a walk down noisy streets, on a hillside, on a cross, surrounded by his people or abandoned by so many of his people. And he is there for the healing of all those broken relationships, for the restoration of the wonder of people being together and set free from all their hurting and all of their being hurt. Jesus is there with crooked authorities and a weak governor; but Jesus is there to breathe into their hearts of anger and fear, to breathe into their hearts a spirit of grace, and mercy, and justice, and joy, and peace. Jesus is there for those who fight against each other with words or weapons, he is there and breathing so that they will be filled instead with a breath and a spirit of caring for one another. Jesus, the one on trial, is here today, in this story and in our story, for all of those who are scattered and alone, or cut off by fear, or facing life with no company; The one on trial today gives his life so that people will once more know the gift of joy and friendship and support and laughter and wonder and one another.

And then Jesus hands over his own breath. To his God and ours, to the God who does not forget to breathe…and who will still breathe the Spirit of life into us all.

AMEN