Homily Transcript:                                              Good Friday  April 6, 2012                                   The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings:
Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 22; Hebrews 10:16-25; John 18:1-19:42

 From John’s Gospel, “(Jesus) said, ‘It is finished.’Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

      "It is finished. It has ended. It is accomplished." Regardless of which gospel translation we read on this Good Friday, our Lord’s own words tell us that something of infinite importance happened on the cross. 

      But, for the people gathered at Golgotha on that first “Good” Friday nearly two thousand years ago, all seemed lost. For them, their hopes of redemption and the re-establishment of the throne of David in their lifetime seem but a dream – all is lost. Jesus is dead. It is finished. It has ended. It is accomplished. We think little of these words because we know the rest of the story: we know what will take place in the next few days. But for now, in this moment, what  is finished?

      Christians speak of this death of our Lord as an act of atonement for the sins of the whole world. For some, Christ’s atoning death has appeased the anger of a just God who demanded that someone pay for our rebellion against God. For others, this atoning death is a ransoming of humanity’s souls from the clutches of Satan. And still, for many more people, the thought that a loving God would require the brutal death of his own Son makes them question what kind of God would allow such to happen. There is no doubt in my mind that those who stood at the foot of the cross on the hill we call Calvary, wondered what is finished? Our faith? Our belief in a merciful God? Our hopes for redemption?

      For many Christians gathering throughout the world this evening, Good Friday is more about the resurrection and our atonement than the suffering and death of our Lord. But, if we are truly reliving this Holy Week as if it is happening for the first time, then we, too, stand with those at the cross and we wonder. Our Lord’s words ring in the ears of Mary, the Magdalene, James and John, even Peter, a Centurion, and countless others. What do you mean Lord? You have taught us to love our neighbors as our selves, to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, body and strength. You have taught us that in caring for and meeting the needs of others, we demonstrate the purest love - God’s love. But what kind of God would do this to you?  How is it possible that this day, of all days, will come to be called “Good?”
    
     The Rev. Rick Morley describes Good Friday as the “day when we enter into the reality that Jesus – our friend, rabbi, and Lord – was betrayed, denied, arrested, spat upon, laughed at, whipped, and nailed to a cross and left to die in the heat of the day – naked and practically alone. And that death – the death of the one of whom we sang beautiful carols celebrating his birth just a few short months ago – breaks my heart. It stings. When I close my eyes and I see his eyes, I ache. When I hear his words, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ I ask the same question. And when I see his bloody and broken corpse unstuck from the cross, hastily prepared and shut into a tomb …. No theory of atonement makes it easier.” What is finished? What has ended? What has been accomplished?

      My friends, as you pray the prayers and participate in this night’s liturgy, ask that question and open your ears and your hearts for God’s answer. Because the answer is  about God’s love - a love willing to suffer and die for us. It is a love that is willing to risk everything in order to “atone” – to make “at one” – God and creation once more. Lord, teach us to understand what was finished and perhaps, even more important, what new beginning  you are calling us to seek, embrace, and live. Amen.

 
 
Sermon Transcript:      March 25, 2012;         The Fifth Sunday in Lent;                                               Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings:
Jeremiah 31:31-34; Psalm 119:9-16; Hebrews 5:5-10; John 12:20-33

      From John’s gospel, “(Jesus said) ‘Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, therefore will my servant be also.’”I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

      A peculiar thing happened to me this week. No, there were no arguments or confrontations with street people or any other bizarre situation where I was embarrassed by my behavior or the behavior of others. But it was peculiar just the same. 

      Typically, on Sunday evenings I read over the lessons for the following week and start thinking about the sermon. Last Sunday night was no different. As I read over today’s lessons, immediately, I thought, “Gosh, I could preach from Jeremiah with its comforting words that, regardless of how much and how often we have sinned, God has promised to establish a new covenant with us promising, ‘I will be (your) God, and (you) shall be my people.’ And this covenant will be written on our hearts.” I had visions of explaining how the Hebrew word translated as “written” actually  means to “be carved.” Oh, what a great sermon topic. But then, I realized that the Maundy Thursday liturgy is all about Jesus becoming that New Covenant and carving his Name on our hearts. Hmmm.

 
 
Homily Transcript:  Good Friday April 22, 2011                                                           The Rev. R. Allan McCaslin
Readings:
Isaiah 52:13-53:12;     Psalm 22;     Hebrews 10:16-25;     John 18:1-19:42

(From today’s Gospel) “(Jesus) said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’” I speak to you in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

     On this Good Friday we gather to remember the sacrifice of Christ in atonement for the sins of the world. This is the atonement we celebrate in every observance of the Holy Eucharist. Yet, on this day, the Eucharist is shared in simplicity using bread and wine consecrated last night. There are no prayers of consecration, no singing “Holy, Holy, Holy” or any outward semblance of joy; but rather, we offer quiet, humble thanks to Christ who offered himself for us forever. As marvelous and wondrous Christ’s atoning sacrifice is to us, Good Friday can have an even deeper meaning.