The Twenty-third Sunday After Pentecost, 11/11/01

Luke 20:27-38

The Reverend Vernon L. Suter

Before getting too far into the subject of today's Gospel, I'd like to emphasize one point that is made very clear in the first sentence of our Gospel reading today. The Sadducees who approached Jesus with the question about the multi-widowed woman and whose wife she would be in heaven, did not even believe in heaven. They did not believe in the resurrection. Knowing this, it becomes obvious that the Sadducees were intentionally trying to trip Jesus up with a question, the anser to which might make their point. Of course, this had been done to Jesus many times. No one ever succeeded in defeating Jesus in this question and answer game, but they kept right on trying, over and over again.

Having made the point that the Sadducees didn't believe in the resurrection, to which they directed their question, I'd like to share a story with you. This story goes back to when I was a Chaplain in training at a hospital in Minneapolis. Actually, this goes so far back that it was during the time that patients actually stayed in the hospital longer than three days. Many were cared for until they died, which could be weeks or even months, in some cases.

In my training, I was assigned to a particular floor or ward, which was my "duty station," so to speak, for the duration of my training. Among the many patients I ministered to was a young man whose name was Curt. I will remember Curt until the day I die, along with all the circumstances surrounding his hospitalization. Curt was terminal. He had abdominal cancer that had spread everywhere by the time they did surgery. He was, as they say, an open and close case. Curt was 26 years old, married and had a ten month old baby.

As was often the case in those days, the doctors would call for a chaplain when they were going to tell a patient that they would soon die. I was, being assigned to that floor, the chaplain the doctor called. After the doctor told Curt the news, Curt looked at me and said, "Help me. I'm dying." I prayed with Curt. I found that he was Roman Catholic, so I called in a friend of mine, Owen Weitzel, who was a Roman Catholic Priest. Fr. Weitzel conducted a nice "last rites" service with Curt, including me and the nurses, along with Curt's wife. It was during this service that Curt asked Fr. Weitzel a question, that at that stage of my ministry, I would have not known what to do with. Curt looked at Fr. Weitzel and then at me and asked, "Father, what is heaven like?"

Without a minutes hesitation, Owen Weitzel said, "Curt, I don't know what heaven is like. I don't think anybody does. However, I can tell you this. Vern and I have devoted our lives to it.". There was a few moments of silence and a look of contemplation on Curt's face, - - and then he smiled broadly and said, "Thanks Father. That helps me a lot."

Curt lived almost three more weeks. He spent his time, pushing his IV stand around and visiting, laughing and joking around with the other patients on the floor. He spent his time sharing the joy of life with many others who were also soon to die. Curt was fantastic. He planned his own funeral and even picked out his casket from a catalog. He called me in while he explained to his wife, sister and parents that he would be just fine; that there was no need to worry. He spent a lot of time helping his wife get all the things together that he had always handled, so that she could take care of them when he was gone.

By Now, you might be asking yourselves why I'm telling this story and what it has to do with the Sadducee's question of Jesus. Well, it has to do with Jesus' answer to the Sadducees. I'd like to take the liberty of paraphrasing for Jesus. In a nutshell, Jesus said that we must not think of heaven in terms of this earth and our lives as we live them now. Life in heaven will be quite different, because we will be quite different. It would sure save a mass of misdirected intellectualizing, ingenuity, and a lot of heartbreak, if we would just give up on the idea of speculating what heaven is like and simply left those things to the love of God.

In the Lord's prayer we say, ". . .thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. I think most of the difficulties we have with the afterlife can be traced directly to our getting this part of the Lord's Prayer turned around. We pray for our life on earth to become as it is in heaven. The problem is that we have a tendency to think of life in heaven as it is on earth. In other words, we think of heaven in human, earthly terms. Actually, we, as mere human beings, are not capable of thinking of heaven in any other terms. We are forever bent on reducing heaven to the familiar terms of our own experience. Trying to read into that unknown future the conditions of time and space which provide the framework of the present is not only naive and futile; it may be thoroughly disastrous. Think about it. Will infants still be infants, for eternity? Will the aged still be eternally old folks? (I, for one, would like to think that's not the case.)

The reality is that my friend Owen Weitzel, the Roman Catholic Priest I referred to earlier, hit the nail right on the head, and it works well for me, just as it did for Curt. I do not know what heaven is like and I don't think anyone else does either. However, I do know that I've devoted my life to it. I think this is the answer Jesus was giving the Sadducees and is telling each one of us..

I think the message is, instead of spending all our time trying to figure out heaven in our earthly and totally inadequate terms, we need to be using the intelligence and experience we have acquired, by the Grace of God, to better serve ourselves and others today, in this life, on this earth, thus becoming better prepared to be with God in Heaven when our time for that comes. We needn't fear it or worry about what it will be like, because God loves us unconditionally. We are his children, and though we can never accomplish perfectionism in our life as Christians, we need to keep on working at becoming better prepared as each day goes by.

Jesus specific answer that I paraphrased a few minutes ago was, "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection."

We are all children of the resurrection. We are all children of God. If we, indeed, trust in the unconditional love of God in Jesus Christ, we will work each day as it comes for the building of his kingdom, with no concern beyond our daily labor. In doing so, we know that God's love is undying, thus we are guaranteed that whatever heaven is like, with God's help, we will have devoted our lives to it.

I'd like to close with Paul's statement from his Second Letter to the Corinthians in which he said, "For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Palm Springs, California

John 18:1 - 19:37, Good Friday, 3/29/02

The Reverend Vernon L. Suter

Every year, as we come together on Good Friday to experience the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ, we think about the pain and suffering he endured for us; the ultimate sacrifice that God made of his son for the sins of the whole world; for the sins of all time, past, present and future. Today, in light of the reasons for the sacrifice of Jesus, strange as this may sound at first, I am going to ask us to take a look at the crucifixion from another person's point of view.

Although we can never forget or minimize the pain and suffering of Jesus, the heart wrenching grief of his mother Mary, and the rest of those present who loved him so much, today I am going to talk about the crucifixion as it may have been experienced by Pontius Pilate. What were his emotions? What were the changes that may have taken place with him as a result of this crucifixion. I'd like for us to put ourselves in the shoes of Pontius Pilate and see if we can understand some of the thoughts and feelings he may have had at this very heavy time in history. - - - -

When Jesus finally began his trip to Calvary, carrying his cross, I would imagine that Pontius Pilate felt very relieved. His terrible job was over. However, I seriously doubt that he felt very good during those hours that led to his sending Jesus off to die.

When I say he probably felt relief, I doubt it was the kind of relief that left him with peace or serenity. I think it most probably was the relief that all of us feel at the end of some terrible ordeal many of us experience from time. Although we may not have been pleased with the outcome, none-the-less, the ordeal was over, we were greatly relieved. We felt relieved just to be done with it. It was finished, and we were glad of it.

The outcome of this ordeal certainly did not please Pontius Pilate. Lest we think it did, we need to remember how many times he tried to dissuade the Jews in their desire for the death of Jesus.

Remember, Pilate considered Jesus an innocent man. Even his wife had a bad feeling about the whole thing. She sent him a message asking him to have nothing to do with Jesus because she strongly believed him to be innocent. Pilate was faced with a terrible conflict from all sides, not to mention his personal feelings. Pilate was a man who didn't like conflict. Pilate, as with most leaders of people, gained strength by pleasing others, regardless of his own deep seated beliefs. With this in mind, I'm sure you can see his difficulty in the matter of Jesus and condemning him to crucifixion.

During the course of events, the scourging and mocking, Pilate saw in the face of Jesus the face of a man that was innocent. He took Jesus out and offered to let him go. The chief priests and the others would have no part of it. They demanded crucifixion.

This had to be the worst moment of all for Pilate. He knew Jesus was innocent but sensed the power and pressure of the mob. He stalled for time. He engaged Jesus in conversation. He became even more convinced of the man's innocence and wanted once again to let him go, but the demands for crucifixion became louder.

On several occasions, Pilate brought Jesus back to the crowd, telling them of his belief in Jesus' innocence. "Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no case against him," said Pilate, but the crowd wouldn't buy it.

After spending some more time with Jesus, Pilate tried again to let him go. He really wanted no part of killing an innocent man. He said, "Take him yourselves and crucify him; I find no case against him."

Pilate wanted no personal responsibility in this issue. He desparetly wanted to release Jesus and have the whole thing go away. - - - - Once again the crowd refused, screaming for crucifixion.

The crowning blow finally came for Pilate when yet another time he tried to release Jesus with the statement, "Shall I crucify your King?" The chief priests answered, "We have no king but the emperor." - -

That did it. Given his strong fear of disapproval, can you imagine Pilate's terror when the mob began using Caesar's name. One might say it suddenly became very political, and politics were dangerous in those days. This whole thing suddenly presented the potential of a conflict with the emperor. With this thought in mind, Pilate finally handed Jesus over to the Crowd to be crucified.

Just before Jesus left bearing his cross, Pilate finally, but reluctantly, and maybe even a bit fearfully, decided to write the inscription that was to be affixed to Jesus' cross.

Pilate had come to see a kind of kingly manner in Jesus. His dealings with Jesus had been a preoccupation of several hours. When he finally decided that he must prepare the title, he was moved to write, "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews."

Well, - - this inscription horrified the Jewish leaders, but Pilate, at long last, stood his ground. He refused to do it over. "What I have written, I have written," he said. He took a stand, in spite of immense pressure from the Crowd, and fear of Ceaser.

In a short time he was now watching as Jesus shouldered the heavy cross and began trudging off toward Calvary. The title stayed fixed to the cross: "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews."

This is when I think Pilate began to feel some relief. The whole thing was now out of his hands. If it turned out that Jesus was actually a king of some sort, Pilate was glad that he would be counted among those who had at least, in some way, acknowledged it. It's also at this point that I can begin to understand Pilate's feeling of relief.

Jesus now carried his heavy cross on a hard journey up the hill from the city to Calvary. Up to now, in his own way, Pilate had carried a heavy burden too. He had been on a journey that took him from curiosity about Jesus' kingship - to his final decision to let the royal inscription remain affixed to Christ's cross. - - - -

This kind of journey has many stages and Pilate went through all of them. How many of us have been on just such a journey? I know that I have.

There were many years in my life that I mocked Jesus. Actually, sadly, there was a time in my life when I mocked any religion or belief that professed that there was any other power in my life besides myself. Then one day, I began to get a little curious; curious about what my friends saw in all this Jesus stuff; curious as to whether they really got something ou of it for themselves.

Then came a stage of contemplation; contemplation as to whether or not I should begin such a journey. I decided to give it a shot. However, all along the way, I continued to challenge Jesus. I wanted Jesus to prove to me that he is a king, that he is really the Lord that everybody talked about. You might say, though not literally, that like Pilate, I had him whipped and mocked him with false crowns. - -

Along the way I made feeble attempts to stand up for him and proclaim him; put my toe in the water, as they say, and each time I came a little closer to acknowledging that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Finally, I became convinced that Jesus really is the king. I became convinced that he is the King of the Jews. He is the King of all humankind. My journey reached its highest moment when I remained convinced that Jesus' kingship is the kingship of one who has lordship over all of us. Others may have still wanted the inscription changed, but I finally decided that what I have written, I have written. Jesus of Nazareth: the Jews' King, the World's King, - - Yes, Jesus of Nazareth was my King. - - - -

Pontius Pilate may or may not have been a witness to others. The Crowd may have been too busy pushing Jesus toward crucifixion to have noticed. The soldiers may have been too caught up in teasing revelry, making false crowns, dividing some of his garments and casting lots to have even noticed.

Mary, Jesus' mother, may not have noticed Pilate's witness because of her grief. Mary's sister and Mary Magdalene could have been too busy consoling Mary to have paid any attention to Pilate. None of those around the cross may have noticed any change at all in Pontius Pilate. But Pilate knew, - - and he felt good at last. - - - -

Sometimes we can feel terribly alone on the journey toward claiming Christ's kingship for ourselves and proclaiming it to others. It is important to remember, however, that regardless of the feeling of being alone, we are never alone. He is with us. Jesus is not a distant king, but one who breaks bread with people. He is one who bids us come to him. He is not aloof from us or from our lives. - - - -

Before I conclude this sermon, I want to mention what I think to be an interesting afterthought: Some Bible commentaries mention legendary stories claiming an ultimate conversion to Christianity for Pontius Pilate. Now we all know that truth in legends is always questionable, but for me, the analogy fits. - - - -

In our search for understanding, I think we have all walked the painful path of Pontius Pilate's weaknesses, and some are just beginning to walk it.

If we were to do a dramatization of the crucifixion of Jesus, someone would have to play the role of Pontius Pilate. To be accurately done, that person would have to portray all of the indecision, all of the weakness, all of the fear that was Pilate's. At the same time, however, that person would also have to portray strength at the end when the inscription would remain unchanged, and as a result, Pilate would become a changed person.