Sermon by the Rev. Andrew S. Rollins

Good Friday (April 14, 2006)

Text: Hebrews 10:1 - 25

Title: "Why So Bloody?"

The starting point for understanding Good Friday is the truth that our sin requires the shedding of blood. Our sin requires the shedding of blood. That truth is not easy to accept. But the Bible is clear from cover to cover (from the blood of Cain in Genesis to the blood-washed robes of the saints in the Book of Revelation) that blood is required: . . . without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sin (Hebrews 9:22). That is the difficult starting point for Good Friday.

The Bible does not make this claim, proceed to give us an explanation, and then ask us to consider if, perhaps, it might be true. The Bible simply reveals it to us as an eternal truth: without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sin (Hebrews 9:22).

When I first began to seriously examine the claims of Christianity, the blood was problematic. In fact, it almost prevented me from belief. The question is, "If God is good and kind and all-powerful, why can't God simply forgive sin? Why does blood have to be shed? Could reconciliation not be accomplished in some other, less bloody, manner?" Why so bloody?

And I know the answers that are traditionally given to that question: "God is holy; God is just. God's love cannot violate God's holiness and justice. God will not compromise his character." That's all true. But I did not (and still don't) find that a completely satisfying answer to the question. It doesn't remove the discomfort. Why so bloody?

On Good Friday, the bloodiness of the Christian message is unavoidable. The blood is there in the art. The blood is there in the music. The blood is there in the prayers. And, most especially, the blood is there in the scriptures.

The Jewish culture into which Jesus of Nazareth was born was very familiar with this conviction that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sin. Throughout their history, the Jewish people had taken part in an annual drama that reflected this truth: . . . without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sin. Each year, on the Day of Atonement, the people of Israel took part in an elaborate purification rite in Jerusalem. Then, they looked to the high priest (a crucial term for our purposes) who would offer the sacrifice of blood for the sins of the people -- sins committed both intentionally and unintentionally.

The high priest would sacrifice a lamb without blemish (again, an important term for us). The high priest would then take blood from that sacrifice and enter the inner sanctum of the Temple. He would pass through the curtain (another important term for us) into the 'Holy of Holies', into the very presence of YHWH where the Ark of the Covenant was kept. Inside the ark were kept copies of the Law. And over the ark was a covering called the Mercy Seat. The high priest would ceremonially sprinkle the blood of the sacrificed lamb on this Mercy seat. That bloody drama was repeated year after year.

That notion of blood sacrifice from the Old Testament is the necessary background for what we hear in the New Testament readings every Good Friday. Both the reading from Hebrews and The Passion According to John say, in different ways, that Jesus was the necessary blood sacrifice for our sin.

The Hebrews reading begins, Since the law has only a shadow of the good things to come and not the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered year after year, make perfect those who approach. . . . (And then several verses later) And every priest stands day after day at his service, offering again and again the same sacrifices that can never take away sins. But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, 'he sat down at the right hand of God' . . . . In Hebrews, Jesus offers the necessary blood sacrifice for sin.

John says the same thing, but in a different way. John begins his gospel by identifying Jesus in this way: Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29, 36). Then, when John comes to the Passion story, he highlights that the crucifixion happens at Passover when the lambs are being slain. And he includes such details as 'none of his bones were broken' in fulfillment of the scriptures. John's interpretation of the cross is that Jesus is that 'unblemished lamb' whose blood was required.

Our liturgy reflects this at every turn. The priest raises the bread, breaks it, and proclaims: Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us. Our music today reflects the same Truth; notice today's anthem, in particular.

So, you can see, the bloodiness of the Christian message is unavoidable on Good Friday. And perhaps you are also made somewhat uncomfortable by the idea that . . . without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sin. (If it doesn't make you somewhat uncomfortable, perhaps you haven't really understood what is being said.) And I continue to sympathize with those who finally say that is too much. It is an extremely hard truth -- perhaps the hardest truth that Christianity asserts.

There are two truths about myself that have helped me, in the end, to accept this larger Truth about God.

The first truth about myself is that I chronically rationalize my own sin. In my more honest moments, I can see that I evade, deny, and rationalize when it comes to my own sin. (I'm not talking about your sin. I've got no problem seeing and naming your sin in all its stark reality!) But when it comes to my own sin, there are usually mitigating circumstances.

For example, I like to collect things. I own about 100 of the 150 or so Classics Illustrated comic books. I own all of the Lord of the Rings DVDs (extended versions, of course). I also have a collection of every type of fishing lure. I have ALL of Steve Earle's albums. Even the B-sides. The Bible has another word for what I call 'collecting'. In the Bible, that's called greed! But as long as I can call it 'collecting' I don't have to face up to the ugliness of my behavior.

Our culture is masterful at this little language game. We say 'body enhancement' instead of vanity. We have 'Peacekeeper Missiles'. We say 'found myself' (selfishness). My covetousness becomes 'Born to Shop.' I'm simply saying that we are adept at twisting language to rationalize what the Bible candidly calls 'sin'.

Similarly, a second truth about myself that helps me to accept this larger Truth about God is that I am also chronically naive about the effects of my sin. Sin reverberates through the generations. The truth of this can be observed right here in Louisiana. I've been reading Bayou Farewell about the effects of previous generations confining the flow of the Mississippi, and choices oil companies made several decades ago, and how all that is causing the coastal marshes of Louisiana to vanish rapidly. The environmentalists have got it right -- though they might not use the word 'sin'. What is true environmentally is also true emotionally, spiritually. Our grandchildren will pay the price for our sins. (There are many great examples of this in the Old Testament narratives.) My sin is not 'my business' because it ripples out from me.

These are just some facts about myself: I chronically rationalize away my own sin; I'm naive about the effects of my sin. Is the same is true for you? (I don't know why I'm asking you. I should ask your wife! Or your children. Or the people who work with you.) My sin is so deeper than I am willing to admit. The effects of my sin are so much greater than I can even bear to let myself see. I close my eyes. I rationalize, evade, and deny.

If that is the way that we all are, then it's not surprising that we are made uncomfortable by the Bible's claim that our sin cost God the blood of his only Son. I don't wanna hear that. I don't want to hear that God had to pay so terrible and bloody a price for my sin. I want to hear that I have a few understandable shortcomings that God can simply overlook because God is kind and good.

But that is not what we are faced with on Good Friday.

Let us pray.

Prayer

Lord, on this day where you suffered, give us the grace to be sober and honest about our estrangement from you. Help us not to deny and evade these hard truths about ourselves. Forgive us when we are shallow and dishonest about ourselves. We pray you to set your passion, cross, and death between your judgment and our souls. Amen.