My friends, we have just shared with each other Jesus’ Passion and Death according to John, the beloved apostle. John’s gospel is always used on Good Friday because it gives us a different focus than the other accounts from Matthew, Mark and Luke.  We remember from Palm Sunday and Luke’s passion account that his focus was placed not so much on the detail of the suffering, but more on its meaning for each of us as depicted in Paul’s reading to the Philippians—“his state was divine, yet he did not cling to it, but became as each one of us.”

In John’s account today, we simply heard Jesus say, in regard to his own personal needs, “I am thirsty.” His concern isn’t for himself but for his apostles—that they would be set free, or more poignantly, from John’s priestly prayer of Jesus that they could learn to “all be one” and not just with each other, but with all others as they would later share his message to “love God and their neighbors as themselves.” When Jesus does die, the account says, he simply “gives up his spirit.” We very much get the impression that John is trying to give; of Jesus being in control of all that is happening to him. He had the power to avail himself to what would be asked of him and he accepted his fate with no complaint.  As Isaiah said in the first reading; “he did not cry out, even though he was badly abused.”

And even with all the suffering Jesus was asked to bear, we see only the silence with which he carried himself, so the silence built into today’s service is very appropriate.  Isaiah gives the truth to this notion as well—“you were like a lamb led to slaughter and didn’t open your mouth.”  John’s account does not include the purely human moments of the Last Supper or the agony in the garden.

John shows us Jesus as one who suffers, yes, but one who is truly the high priest spoken of today in the letter to the Hebrews—one who stands with us and loves us in all our weaknesses, continually calling us to more.

John’s purpose it would seem is to let us know that Jesus freely accepted his death and did not struggle against it—he lived his human existence constantly showing us how we must live and accepted the consequences in his time for living a life demanding justice for all.

Today, I purposely shortened Isaiah’s reading, leaving off the last 5 verses as these concentrate on a God who apparently “needs” reparation for the sins of humankind. I believe many within our Church, theologians included have moved beyond a God who would ask such a price from a son.  This type of God was not the God that Jesus preached about when he spoke of the Prodigal returning to his father’s waiting arms or the Good Shepherd who left the 99 in search of the one lost.

No, as Irish priest, Tony Flannery said a few years back and I paraphrase, we need a new theology for Holy Week! You will remember that Tony Flannery lost his faculties to serve as a priest in Irish Catholic churches due to his support for women priests.

So, the evangelist, John, further tells us that because Jesus freely chooses death, he can just as freely choose life—the new life of the resurrection.  Jesus knew that his actions, his speech, declaring justice for all, speaking against the practices of his Jewish faith and the state of Rome would cause him to pay the highest price for his so-called treason—death on a cross.

So, we need not look for someone to blame; God, the Jews, the Romans.  Jesus chose life to the fullest, living from his heart mostly and he paid the price for not going along with the status quo, for not keeping silent.

So, my friends, while this is a sad day when we remember our brother’s suffering, and not for our sins, but that we might follow him ever more closely, it is a day to begin in small part, rejoicing for the gift that he gave us, so completely in his life, death and resurrection. Because you see, we can’t think about his dying without remembering his rising. His death carries no meaning without the hope of his rising. And I’ll leave it there for today—–

Friends, I could give you some exegesis around the meaning of the readings today as we begin this holiest of weeks and probably, some thoughts will make their way into this homily; but I thought what might be a more meaningful way to go, would be to concentrate on what “this triumphal entry into Jerusalem” meant, ultimately, to our brother Jesus.

This final journey to Jerusalem was the culmination of his relatively short life on this earth. We can only imagine the emotion he was experiencing! If he had been a musician; we might say that this action was his grand opus—the high point of all that his combined humanity and divinity had allowed and challenged him to proclaim.

All the prophets, especially the later ones such as, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel spoke eloquently about who Jesus, as the Messiah would be—one with humanity—with us, suffering all that we would suffer, and we might add—experiencing so much of the good that this life can bring through interactions with others, through caring and giving of himself for the least among us.  Jesus spoke his truth to the powers present in his time, about justice for all. And we know from Isaiah’s words today in the first reading that what Jesus had to say would not be accepted by all—and that there were those who wished to silence him.

Within the time frame of a week; this triumphal entry into the holy city of Jerusalem would end in seeming failure with his death in one of the most horrible ways that death can come to an individual.  We are told by Scripture scholar, Diane Bergant, that Paul’s beautiful hymn of praise to the Philippians seems the best way for us to understand Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection—while he does not minimize it; he also doesn’t spend undo time depicting it.  Rather, Paul really explains the suffering to us and tells us what it means—his state was divine, yet he did not cling to it, but humbled himself, becoming as all humans are.

Within a week, his beloved apostles and friends would all, save a few—John, Mary of Magdala, his mother and some faithful women, leave him in fear.  Two would betray him—one would seek forgiveness, one had missed the message that his friend, Jesus had spoken so many times before—that there is nothing we could ever do that would separate us from the love of God.

Scriptures tell us that our brother Jesus wept over Jerusalem for how they had so misunderstood his coming among them—they wanted a king—and he came as a servant.  They let their humanity, their lust for power and control get in the way of his message of love and care for all.  Even his closest friends—apostles who spent three years with him, hearing day after day the purpose for his coming—to basically show them, all of us, the best ways to live and to love, didn’t get it!  Jesus was always about, “leading with the heart,” not the head, and those in the society he graced with his presence who were women, the poor, the ill and downtrodden got his message—not about power over, but about humility—power with and for others.

His sadness, his sense of failure with so many whom he loved so much would engulf him for a time in his agony in the garden in the space of a week.  But before that; he would spend his last days teaching in the temple, his last times endeavoring to get the message across one last time that “what we do to others, we do to him.”  We can’t say that we love God and refuse to love our neighbor—he minces no words—it’s as simple as that!

The more my friends that we can let these days come alive for us, the more his words will become real and guide our daily actions going forward.

We won’t be meeting on Holy Thursday this year, but it would behoove us to remember the gift of love that this night depicts.  Jesus, knowing all that was before him, spent his last night before his death showing his closest friends, his mother and the other women, no doubt, even though the Scriptures don’t mention their presence, of how he wanted them to live going forward, once he was no longer physically with them.  They should serve each other, beautifully displayed in the washing of the feet. Whenever and wherever they gathered; they should know and believe that he was with them in the breaking of the bread.  And finally, his greatest prayer was that all people should be one, just as he was one with Abba God.  This is why our parish is named, All Are One—our statement to our city and all others that everyone is welcome here, no exceptions!  Jesus’ priestly prayer was all about loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves—that’s it, that’s the message!

We will gather here on Good Friday afternoon in a simple and holy remembrance of a day, more than any other that speaks to the steadfastness of our God’s love for us.  Jesus died a human death the way he had lived his human life—completely and wholeheartedly—always keeping in mind, especially at the end, the all-encompassing love of his Abba for him.  Being human, he doubted and cried out in the agony, in the suffering, but on some level; he knew that life would follow the death and he did it all for us so that we could be steadfast in hope of new life too!

And then on Saturday afternoon, with the Easter Vigil; we will begin our alleluias in that hope.  Amen? Amen!