Maundy Thursday, Cycle C

"The Lamb of God—for You!"

April 1, 2010

The Rev. Dr. David M. Wendel

Saint Luke's Lutheran Church, Colorado Springs

Lessons: Exodus 12:1-14; I Corinthians 11:23-26; St. John 13:1-17, 31b-35

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Why is it that we have such a hard time taking forgiveness to heart? A related question would be "why do we find it so hard forgiving others?", but that's a different question, and a different discussion. Tonight, on this night when we end a season of confession and repentance; on this night when we conclude what was begun on Ash Wednesday; on this night when we have not only corporate, communal confession and absolution, but the chance to come forward for personal, individual assurance that we are forgiven, absolved of our sin and guilt—on this night, in particular, our focus ought to be, "why is it that we have such a hard time taking forgiveness to heart?" For all that Scripture says about repenting and receiving God's forgiveness, for all the opportunities we have for confessing and hearing about God's absolution—the truth is many of us, if not most of us, find it difficult to actually receive God's declaration that we are indeed, forgiven of our sins! We may come on Sunday morning week in and week out and participate in the Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness. We may participate in both the Ash Wednesday extended confession, and the Maundy Thursday rite for corporate confession and absolution. We may receive both an ashen cross on our foreheads at the beginning of Lent, and anointing with the oil of gladness now during Holy Week, and yet—and yet, often, we don't receive God's forgiveness, we don't experience the freedom and release offered to us, and we leave, as burdened and troubled by our sin, and the resultant guilt, as when we came in. And certainly, as pastor, as shepherd of souls, I worry about why this is so. The reason we offer private confession on Palm Sunday, at the beginning of Holy Week, and the reason we have the Maundy Thursday liturgy this evening, is to provide for troubled, burdened souls, true absolution and cleansing from past sin, before we celebrate the Easter feast. The Church, in her wisdom, has developed, through the ages, a process, a schedule, a calendar for the liturgical year that meets the spiritual needs of her children, as through the years, it has become clear that just as we need the Season of Lent, forty days of struggling against our sin and brokenness, so also do we need, at the end of Lent, the chance for intentional confession of our sins, to receive the sure and certain declaration of forgiveness, so that we approach Easter assured that we have been washed clean in the blood of the Lamb—purified completely, that we may celebrate the festival of our deliverance from sin, death and the devil, full of joy and peace that Jesus offered us, by His death on the cross. And yet, often, we do not receive that which is offered to us. We do not hear the words of absolution, and take them to heart. We leave, feeling we have only gone through the motions, have said the words, but are still burdened by our guilt. And why is that? What is it about us that causes us to persist in dragging our guilt behind us, even when God's forgiveness has been declared to us?

What I hear most often, is that while we believe that Jesus died for sins, while we understand that Jesus gave His life as a ransom for sin—we feel in our heart that this forgiveness is for others, not for us. It seems to be all too common, among Christians, that we feel because my sin is so great, so heinous, so regularly repeated, surely, forgiveness isn't for me. We look down the row at church, and trust that everyone else is better, more faithful, less sinful than me—so that we can understand THEM receiving forgiveness, and leaving the church freed from feelings of shame and guilt. But we sit in church, aware of our own secret thoughts, desires, and actions which we do not fully understand, and we are convinced, God won't forgive me. We are sure God isn't offering me, absolution for my sins. So, many of us leave church as burdened and troubled as when we came in. And some of us continue to carry this burden, not just for a week or two, but for years! It's not uncommon for us to carry a burden of guilt and shame for 20, 30, 40 years, because of something done or left undone as a teen, or young adult. And though we may have been in church every Sunday, though we may have confessed that sin a hundred or a thousand times, and had the words of forgiveness pass over us—that's just the problem—they've just passed over us—they haven't been heard, and taken to heart—because we can't grasp, that Jesus' sacrifice of atonement is for me. We find it hard to trust that Jesus would die on the cross, to forgive a sinner like me. And the problem with that is—we drag our guilt behind us like a great suitcase filled with a heavy weight of shame. And the problem with that is, it holds us back, it keeps us from living fully, in the freedom and joy that Jesus wants, and intends for us—the freedom and joy He won for us, by His saving death on the cross, and His resurrection to new life on Easter Sunday.

Obviously, there is a barrier, an impediment there, for many of us, which keeps us from releasing our guilt and shame. Obviously, there is something that keeps the transfer, the "sweet swap" from happening, wherein we confess and Jesus offers forgiveness, in such a way that we receive it, and it becomes real for us. There is a transfer that is supposed to happen, wherein we acknowledge our sin and disobedience, and Jesus becomes our Savior, our freedom, our life, peace and joy. But for some, the transfer doesn't happen, the swap is stopped, and sinners continue to suffer under the burden of their sin. I suppose counselors and therapists might offer other reasons and rationalizations for why we have a hard time letting go of our guilt and shame—but even counselors and therapists talk about patients reaching a point where they are blocked, stopped, and can't get beyond a certain point in their healing. So, not being a counselor or therapist, I look for biblical, theological reasons—and biblical, theological solutions.

And the more we've studied the Book of Leviticus in our Sunday Adult Class, the more I've come to ponder this transfer, this "sweet swap" as theologians call it, between the sacrifice for sin, and the absolving of sinners. The more deeply we've delved into the Book of Leviticus, the more I've come to respect the fact that when God established ways for His people Israel to be forgiven of their sin, cleansed of their guilt, an integral action within the ritual of the sacrifice of atonement, was the laying on of one's hands, on the intended sacrifice. In several places in Leviticus, God commands that as the sacrifice is being offered, before the animal is killed, the person seeking forgiveness lays his hand or hands on the head of the sacrifice. And scholars suggest several meanings for this laying on of hands. First, in this way, the person offering the sacrifice transfers his sin and guilt to the animal. Second, when the offerer lays his hand on the animal, he identifies himself with the animal as a vicarious substitute for him by its death. And third, through this act of laying on hands, the person is indicating that this sacrificial animal is his—that it belongs to him—that it is properly being offered on his behalf, to secure God's forgiveness for him, and yes, sometimes even for his entire household! That's what it meant for Israelites to lay their hands on the animal being sacrificed for their atonement before God—and without this action, there was no transference, the sacrifice would not be real, or actualized for the person making the offering. In other words, while the animal might be killed, it wouldn't be efficacious for the sinner. While the sacrifice might be completed, it wouldn't be a sacrifice for the sins of this person, in particular.

Which causes me to wonder, if laying hands on Jesus might not help us, as well, to receive the atonement won for us by Jesus' sacrifice on the cross. Without a doubt, Jesus died, and sin and guilt have been forgiven for His sake. The atoning sacrifice happened, as the Father intended, and there is nothing we can add, by our actions. And yet, how does that become real for us? How do we, who think ourselves such terrible sinners, receive that atonement and take it to heart? For the Jews, it happened in two ways, one before the sacrifice was made, and one after. As we said, first, the sinner desiring forgiveness and absolution, laid a hand, or hands upon the sacrifice. And so, tonight, as we come forward to receive the assurance of forgiveness of sins, before we receive the laying on of hands and the declaration of forgiveness, let us place our hands on Jesus on the cross, for the three reasons indicated for atonement under the Old Covenant. To symbolically transfer our sin and guilt to Jesus; to identify ourselves with Jesus as our vicarious substitute; to indicate that this Jesus belongs to us—that this Jesus is our brother, taking our place on the cross, so that He might be accepted on our behalf, as atonement, not just for human sin, but for my sin. Of course, our crucifix is just that, a crucifix, a carved wooden representation—certainly, not Jesus Himself being sacrificed again. However, within the Orthodox tradition, such an image, such an icon of Jesus does indeed present, what is re-presented there, so that it is common in Orthodox churches for the faithful to touch, or kiss the crucifix, or icons, seeing through them, to the person whose image is presented there. And it just may be that by laying our hands on Jesus, on the cross, we may come to understand that Jesus did die—for me. It may be that we may come to grasp more fully that this sacrifice, on Good Friday, was not just for those whom I perceive as less sinful, but for all us sinners—including me. For just as Jesus gave His life as a ransom for sinners, Jesus gave His life as a ransom for all sinners—for all who believe that Jesus died on the cross, for me, so that we willingly have Him take our place, so that, as a perfect, sinless sacrifice, He may be accepted, and received, in our place, as atonement for our sin—for my sin. That's the first way that the sacrifice for atonement was made real for individual Israelites. The second way, was through the eating of a portion of the sacrifice, after the sacrifice—so that the atonement was not external, not just out there on the altar of sacrifice, but here, in the heart, in the being of the one who had confessed, and was now to receive forgiveness.

In Leviticus, we hear how, after a sacrifice was made, a memorial portion of the sacrifice was returned, and there, in the tabernacle or temple, that portion was shared—just as that was the case with the Passover Lamb, in Egypt, where a sacrifice was made, and all who were hoping for deliverance from bondage, ate of the sacrificial Lamb. And in that action, we see, tonight, once again, that deliverance comes to us, to you and me, personally, individually, as we eat and drink of the Lamb's flesh and blood—in the Sacrament of the Altar, the Lord's Supper, instituted at the Last Supper, where Jesus offered His Body and Blood, for the forgiveness of sins, for life and salvation.

So, tonight, I invite you first, as you come forward to receive the assurance of forgiveness and complete absolution, to lay your hand on Jesus, on the cross, as the assistant holds the crucifix here at the foot of the chancel—to lay your hand on Jesus, the Lamb of God, that He may truly be your sacrifice, that all your sins may be transferred to Him, that He may be the atonement for your sin, that you may receive, forgiveness and freedom. And then, I invite you as well, to come forward to receive, in the Lord's Supper, a memorial portion of that sacrificed Lamb of God, that as you eat His flesh and drink His blood, you will have His life in you—and be restored, renewed, released from guilt and shame, that together, we may celebrate the Easter feast with great peace, and joy, that our sins, that my sins and your sins have been washed away by the blood of Jesus on the cross, who died, who gave His life, that we might live—that we might live, and love, as we have been loved—by the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world—and our sins!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.