The passion according to Luke
Commentary
Some of us will remember when the fifth Sunday in Lent was called Passion Sunday. The liturgical reform movement in our time has joined Passion and Palm Sundays, not just to reflect ancient practices of the church, but more importantly to preserve the integrity of the whole gospel within the church. The Book of Worship of the United Church of Christ well states this need.
"Palm/Passion Sunday is the gateway to Holy Week. It is appropriate that both Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem and the full account of Christ's passion, death, and burial be commemorated in the principal worship of the congregation of this day. Where this is not done ... Christians are deprived of adequate preparation for the events of Holy Week, and those who attend only Sunday worship will experience a distorted transition from the triumph of Palm Sunday to the victory of an Easter devoid of the reality of Christ's suffering and death on the cross."
In many congregations the service will begin with the blessing and distribution of palms. Some congregations gather outside the church building for this part of the service and then process into the sanctuary singing the opening hymn. Then the focus of the service becomes the passion of Jesus.
While the Old Testament and Epistle selections for the day are read, the central emphasis is on the passion narrative from one of the gospels. Each gospel writer brings to us his unique interpretive witness. We note, for example, that Luke repeatedly stresses the innocence of Jesus who even as he makes his tortuous way along the via dolorosa impacts the lives of others.
Members of the congregation may be enlisted to read the gospel lesson. They should be well rehearsed. The narrative may be read in its entirety with a full sermon coming later, or read in sections followed by homiletical commentary. The preacher can make this call. The Sermon Seeds section which follows is designed with both options in mind.
Sermon Seeds In The Lessons
Scene 1, 23:1-5 -- Jesus Accused Before Pilate
Pilate was in Jerusalem for the Passover, a fitting time for the Roman Procurator to be publicly present. No doubt his own troops, the Italian Cohort, were with him. It was also a good idea to show the flag as a means to forestall any potential civil disorder. The assembly brings Jesus before Pilate and accuses him of being an anti-Roman revolutionary. They were obviously seeking a death sentence that only the Procurator would be authorized to approve. Pilate obviously senses other reasons behind their charges for which there is no real evidence. Luke strikes a major theme of his narrative, the innocence of Jesus. Opposition to him has been triggered by his whole ministry from day one in Galilee. There is the real rub, the bastions of privilege and exclusivity sanctioned by dogma and piety have been challenged. Given reasons are not always the real reasons.
Scene 2, 23:6-12 -- Jesus Before Herod
Knowing that Herod is in the city for Passover Pilate sends Jesus to him since Herod would know about Galilean movements. This is an investigative procedure a Roman Procurator might use. Readers of Luke's gospel know Herod's participation is ominous for he is an unstable person capable of murder and also hostile to Jesus (Luke 9:7-9, 13:31-35. See Charting the Course for Lent 2). Given this past hostility we do not know quite what to make of this unfolding scene. Herod confirms the innocent finding of Pilate (as we will soon learn) yet has Jesus mocked.
What's going on here? We know Herod is a devious person. Does he agree with Pilate in order to ingratiate himself with someone who might have important connections in Rome? Luke reports that Herod and Pilate, who had been at odds, became friends at this time. If Pilate should change his judgment about Jesus, Herod would be well rid of Jesus and not have any trouble with Galilean sympathizers. The enemies of Jesus in Jerusalem would applaud the way his soldiers mocked Jesus. Herod is a fox. He is a consummate master of the conscience-free art of the politics of venality and self-interest. How do we handle the mention of the "elegant" robe with which he clothed Jesus? Herod trashes Jesus and then dresses him up. Is he pulling the wool over Pilate's eyes and really cloaking his own motives by sending Jesus back all dressed up?
Scene 3, 23:13-25 -- The Choice
Two more times Pilate voices his conviction that Jesus is innocent of the charges brought against him. But the pressure on him is mounting as group passions are stirred and the cry goes up for the release of Barabbas, an insurrectionist and murderer, and the crucifixion of Jesus. Pilate caves in under pressure. I see too much of my own wavering here to pass any sort of judgment on Pilate. How about you? Luke has continued his theme of the innocence of Jesus and reminded us that our human choices are very much involved in any encounter with him.
Scene 4, 23:26 -- An Unexpected Cross
Generally those sentenced to crucifixion carry the cross beam themselves. Jesus was probably already so weakened by flogging that there may have been a fear he would collapse before reaching the place of crucifixion. A man named Simon from Cyrene finds himself suddenly yanked from the sidelines and thrust under a cross, an unexpected event that will change his life. That he is mentioned by name and that Mark mentions the names of his sons indicate he is well-known in the early church.
Something happened to Simon under his unexpected cross. The suffering Jesus somehow impacted upon the life of Simon. How many of us have had an experience of the reversal of ministry? An unexpected happening impresses us into service as a burden sharer. We are called to the bedside of a terminally stricken parishioner or friend. We want to be of help, but what can we really do? We discover that something in the stricken one touches us in a moving and decisive way. Ministry is reversed.
In this incident Luke also reminds us that even on the way to his death Jesus continues to impact on others. This suggests a question for thought. What can you do when you cannot do anything? Maybe the way we live and react in the face of situations we cannot change can impact on the lives of those around us in ways beyond our understanding. There is a sermon here.
Scene 5, 23:27-31 -- Misdirected Tears
There were sympathizers in the procession to the place of crucifixion. Here Luke focuses in on a group of women mourners whom Jesus addresses as Daughters of Jerusalem. Jesus tells them their tears are misdirected. It is themselves and their children for whom their tears should fall. If the Romans put him on the cross without reason, what will they do when the Barabbas-like passions of their children reach the flash point and the brutal legions move in? They should weep for the city that thinks he is the enemy within.
His words carry the warning that those who remain commiserating spectators become victims of history. His words are directed to women followers who have no public power in that society. He calls them off the sidelines. Is it the destiny of mothers to weep along the sidelines? Not so said Mairead Corrigan and Betty Williams of Northern Ireland who mobilized thousands of Catholic and Protestant women to protest violence. They received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1976 and their work goes on through the decades. Can we take the words of Jesus as a call to all of us who feel powerless?
Other thoughts surface. For whom should we feel sorry? Jesus certainly had no self-pity. He had a conviction-filled vocation. If there is no high calling that stirs our energies, then perhaps we should weep for ourselves.
Scene 6, 22:32-36 -- At The Place Called Skull
This section contains the prayer of Jesus found only in Luke's gospel. "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they are doing." These words have been the subject of much debate in Christian tradition. Some early manuscripts do not record them. Their authenticity has been challenged. Christians have had a hard time coping with this prayer. But it has stuck and here it is! A variation of the prayer comes out of the mouth of Stephen as the stones land upon him (Acts 7:60). We today have a hard time with these words. In the long run will not each one of us have reason to be thankful to have these words as a peg on which we hang our hope?
Scene 7, 23:39-43
James and John wanted to be on his left and right in his royal court. They are nowhere in sight. There are instead two convicted felons on either side. Their presence suggests that in this imperfect world crime does not always pay. But the cross in the center tells us that innocent and non-violent lives can also meet violent ends. This is not so comforting.
Some are punished because they fall below the standards of society; some because they rise above those standards. Some are punished because they pose a threat to public peace; some because they disturb the public's peace of mind. Some pose a threat to property; some threaten the premises by which a people live.
There is also grist for thought in the reactions of the felons. One felon projects his own guilt on Jesus. He secures a fleeting moment of public approval by becoming part of the pack scorning Jesus. The other watching Jesus on the cross catches a glimpse of another way to think about life. I can hear him saying something like this: "My fellow criminal and I are what we are. We played the world's game and lost. This Jesus is a puzzle. These visionaries and their strange kingdoms always are. Doesn't he know the way it goes on this earth? Yet, even as he hangs here he seems to tower over all of us. He seems real and all of us seem as broken husks of what we might have been. Somehow all the things I've clawed and cheated to get do not seem important. And those who put him on the cross, have they been worthy of my envy and anger? Somehow I envy this dying Jesus and feel sorry for the rest of us. God, I wish I'd met him sooner."
We are not to read any ideas about heaven into the reply of Jesus to the criminal. The emphasis is on the word today. We can paraphrase the answer of Jesus, "Today you begin to live before God with me." The word paradise suggests a garden. To be in the king's private garden is to be honored. Luke's readers would think of the first Adam in Eden whose action set the direction of the old age. Jesus is the second Adam, the progenitor of the new humanity. And this, by the way, is one of the great leveling texts of the New Testament. Christian tradition has given this man the name Dismas and called him the penitent thief. The crosses of the felons represent moral failure. But the people who put Jesus on the cross were also failures. He dies for the crucified and the crucifiers alike. The cross of Dismas has been called the cross of every Christian, and, in a way, it is.
Søren Kierkegaard called Jesus the greatest thief of all. He does not steal our treasure, but our reliance on it. He does not steal our titles but he deflates their value. He does not steal death, but he plunders the grave of the terror of finality and opens a horizon of possibility.
Scene 8, 23:44-49
The scene opens with a theological statement in highly symbolic language. The veil, of course, is the one that covered the holy of holies in the temple where God dwelt in darkness. Now through Jesus God's character is on public view in history. Jesus dies with a prayer from Psalm 31 upon his lips. He hands his life over to God. "Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit."
Here are the names of others who have died with this prayer upon their lips: Stephen, the first martyr (Acts 7:59), Thomas Becket as he fell under the blows of the assassins sent by the king, Jan Hus before the stake upon which he would be burned, Hus' defender, Jerome of Prague, as he was martyred a year later in the same spot as Hus, Martin Luther on his death bed, and Christopher Columbus ten years before the death of Luther.
So the earthly life of Jesus ends, according to Luke. A Roman centurion gives one last attestation to the innocence of Jesus. The crowds disperse. Some acquaintances and the women who had followed Jesus from Galilee stood at a distance watching. It is all over. Or is it? I can hear one of our modern television anchor persons reporting it this way: "That's it. To all extents and purposes we have to say that the Jesus movement has come to an end."
"Palm/Passion Sunday is the gateway to Holy Week. It is appropriate that both Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem and the full account of Christ's passion, death, and burial be commemorated in the principal worship of the congregation of this day. Where this is not done ... Christians are deprived of adequate preparation for the events of Holy Week, and those who attend only Sunday worship will experience a distorted transition from the triumph of Palm Sunday to the victory of an Easter devoid of the reality of Christ's suffering and death on the cross."
In many congregations the service will begin with the blessing and distribution of palms. Some congregations gather outside the church building for this part of the service and then process into the sanctuary singing the opening hymn. Then the focus of the service becomes the passion of Jesus.
While the Old Testament and Epistle selections for the day are read, the central emphasis is on the passion narrative from one of the gospels. Each gospel writer brings to us his unique interpretive witness. We note, for example, that Luke repeatedly stresses the innocence of Jesus who even as he makes his tortuous way along the via dolorosa impacts the lives of others.
Members of the congregation may be enlisted to read the gospel lesson. They should be well rehearsed. The narrative may be read in its entirety with a full sermon coming later, or read in sections followed by homiletical commentary. The preacher can make this call. The Sermon Seeds section which follows is designed with both options in mind.
Sermon Seeds In The Lessons
Scene 1, 23:1-5 -- Jesus Accused Before Pilate
Pilate was in Jerusalem for the Passover, a fitting time for the Roman Procurator to be publicly present. No doubt his own troops, the Italian Cohort, were with him. It was also a good idea to show the flag as a means to forestall any potential civil disorder. The assembly brings Jesus before Pilate and accuses him of being an anti-Roman revolutionary. They were obviously seeking a death sentence that only the Procurator would be authorized to approve. Pilate obviously senses other reasons behind their charges for which there is no real evidence. Luke strikes a major theme of his narrative, the innocence of Jesus. Opposition to him has been triggered by his whole ministry from day one in Galilee. There is the real rub, the bastions of privilege and exclusivity sanctioned by dogma and piety have been challenged. Given reasons are not always the real reasons.
Scene 2, 23:6-12 -- Jesus Before Herod
Knowing that Herod is in the city for Passover Pilate sends Jesus to him since Herod would know about Galilean movements. This is an investigative procedure a Roman Procurator might use. Readers of Luke's gospel know Herod's participation is ominous for he is an unstable person capable of murder and also hostile to Jesus (Luke 9:7-9, 13:31-35. See Charting the Course for Lent 2). Given this past hostility we do not know quite what to make of this unfolding scene. Herod confirms the innocent finding of Pilate (as we will soon learn) yet has Jesus mocked.
What's going on here? We know Herod is a devious person. Does he agree with Pilate in order to ingratiate himself with someone who might have important connections in Rome? Luke reports that Herod and Pilate, who had been at odds, became friends at this time. If Pilate should change his judgment about Jesus, Herod would be well rid of Jesus and not have any trouble with Galilean sympathizers. The enemies of Jesus in Jerusalem would applaud the way his soldiers mocked Jesus. Herod is a fox. He is a consummate master of the conscience-free art of the politics of venality and self-interest. How do we handle the mention of the "elegant" robe with which he clothed Jesus? Herod trashes Jesus and then dresses him up. Is he pulling the wool over Pilate's eyes and really cloaking his own motives by sending Jesus back all dressed up?
Scene 3, 23:13-25 -- The Choice
Two more times Pilate voices his conviction that Jesus is innocent of the charges brought against him. But the pressure on him is mounting as group passions are stirred and the cry goes up for the release of Barabbas, an insurrectionist and murderer, and the crucifixion of Jesus. Pilate caves in under pressure. I see too much of my own wavering here to pass any sort of judgment on Pilate. How about you? Luke has continued his theme of the innocence of Jesus and reminded us that our human choices are very much involved in any encounter with him.
Scene 4, 23:26 -- An Unexpected Cross
Generally those sentenced to crucifixion carry the cross beam themselves. Jesus was probably already so weakened by flogging that there may have been a fear he would collapse before reaching the place of crucifixion. A man named Simon from Cyrene finds himself suddenly yanked from the sidelines and thrust under a cross, an unexpected event that will change his life. That he is mentioned by name and that Mark mentions the names of his sons indicate he is well-known in the early church.
Something happened to Simon under his unexpected cross. The suffering Jesus somehow impacted upon the life of Simon. How many of us have had an experience of the reversal of ministry? An unexpected happening impresses us into service as a burden sharer. We are called to the bedside of a terminally stricken parishioner or friend. We want to be of help, but what can we really do? We discover that something in the stricken one touches us in a moving and decisive way. Ministry is reversed.
In this incident Luke also reminds us that even on the way to his death Jesus continues to impact on others. This suggests a question for thought. What can you do when you cannot do anything? Maybe the way we live and react in the face of situations we cannot change can impact on the lives of those around us in ways beyond our understanding. There is a sermon here.
Scene 5, 23:27-31 -- Misdirected Tears
There were sympathizers in the procession to the place of crucifixion. Here Luke focuses in on a group of women mourners whom Jesus addresses as Daughters of Jerusalem. Jesus tells them their tears are misdirected. It is themselves and their children for whom their tears should fall. If the Romans put him on the cross without reason, what will they do when the Barabbas-like passions of their children reach the flash point and the brutal legions move in? They should weep for the city that thinks he is the enemy within.
His words carry the warning that those who remain commiserating spectators become victims of history. His words are directed to women followers who have no public power in that society. He calls them off the sidelines. Is it the destiny of mothers to weep along the sidelines? Not so said Mairead Corrigan and Betty Williams of Northern Ireland who mobilized thousands of Catholic and Protestant women to protest violence. They received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1976 and their work goes on through the decades. Can we take the words of Jesus as a call to all of us who feel powerless?
Other thoughts surface. For whom should we feel sorry? Jesus certainly had no self-pity. He had a conviction-filled vocation. If there is no high calling that stirs our energies, then perhaps we should weep for ourselves.
Scene 6, 22:32-36 -- At The Place Called Skull
This section contains the prayer of Jesus found only in Luke's gospel. "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they are doing." These words have been the subject of much debate in Christian tradition. Some early manuscripts do not record them. Their authenticity has been challenged. Christians have had a hard time coping with this prayer. But it has stuck and here it is! A variation of the prayer comes out of the mouth of Stephen as the stones land upon him (Acts 7:60). We today have a hard time with these words. In the long run will not each one of us have reason to be thankful to have these words as a peg on which we hang our hope?
Scene 7, 23:39-43
James and John wanted to be on his left and right in his royal court. They are nowhere in sight. There are instead two convicted felons on either side. Their presence suggests that in this imperfect world crime does not always pay. But the cross in the center tells us that innocent and non-violent lives can also meet violent ends. This is not so comforting.
Some are punished because they fall below the standards of society; some because they rise above those standards. Some are punished because they pose a threat to public peace; some because they disturb the public's peace of mind. Some pose a threat to property; some threaten the premises by which a people live.
There is also grist for thought in the reactions of the felons. One felon projects his own guilt on Jesus. He secures a fleeting moment of public approval by becoming part of the pack scorning Jesus. The other watching Jesus on the cross catches a glimpse of another way to think about life. I can hear him saying something like this: "My fellow criminal and I are what we are. We played the world's game and lost. This Jesus is a puzzle. These visionaries and their strange kingdoms always are. Doesn't he know the way it goes on this earth? Yet, even as he hangs here he seems to tower over all of us. He seems real and all of us seem as broken husks of what we might have been. Somehow all the things I've clawed and cheated to get do not seem important. And those who put him on the cross, have they been worthy of my envy and anger? Somehow I envy this dying Jesus and feel sorry for the rest of us. God, I wish I'd met him sooner."
We are not to read any ideas about heaven into the reply of Jesus to the criminal. The emphasis is on the word today. We can paraphrase the answer of Jesus, "Today you begin to live before God with me." The word paradise suggests a garden. To be in the king's private garden is to be honored. Luke's readers would think of the first Adam in Eden whose action set the direction of the old age. Jesus is the second Adam, the progenitor of the new humanity. And this, by the way, is one of the great leveling texts of the New Testament. Christian tradition has given this man the name Dismas and called him the penitent thief. The crosses of the felons represent moral failure. But the people who put Jesus on the cross were also failures. He dies for the crucified and the crucifiers alike. The cross of Dismas has been called the cross of every Christian, and, in a way, it is.
Søren Kierkegaard called Jesus the greatest thief of all. He does not steal our treasure, but our reliance on it. He does not steal our titles but he deflates their value. He does not steal death, but he plunders the grave of the terror of finality and opens a horizon of possibility.
Scene 8, 23:44-49
The scene opens with a theological statement in highly symbolic language. The veil, of course, is the one that covered the holy of holies in the temple where God dwelt in darkness. Now through Jesus God's character is on public view in history. Jesus dies with a prayer from Psalm 31 upon his lips. He hands his life over to God. "Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit."
Here are the names of others who have died with this prayer upon their lips: Stephen, the first martyr (Acts 7:59), Thomas Becket as he fell under the blows of the assassins sent by the king, Jan Hus before the stake upon which he would be burned, Hus' defender, Jerome of Prague, as he was martyred a year later in the same spot as Hus, Martin Luther on his death bed, and Christopher Columbus ten years before the death of Luther.
So the earthly life of Jesus ends, according to Luke. A Roman centurion gives one last attestation to the innocence of Jesus. The crowds disperse. Some acquaintances and the women who had followed Jesus from Galilee stood at a distance watching. It is all over. Or is it? I can hear one of our modern television anchor persons reporting it this way: "That's it. To all extents and purposes we have to say that the Jesus movement has come to an end."
