Sunday Sermonette: Encore
I like to sing. In particular, I enjoy choral singing. That’s why this is my favorite time of year. All of the hymns are massive and bombastic and glorious. He is risen, we sing as loudly as we can, as if sheer volume would make it so. And he shall reign forever and ever. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! It’s Easter, the great festival day of the Christian calendar.
You see, once upon a time there was an itinerant and penniless Jewish preacher in who lived in a squabbling and contentious region that was usually controlled by other nations who could agree on things. First it was the Assyrians and Babylonians, then the Persians, then the Greeks, and finally after a brief unsuccessful period of self-rule, the Romans. Romans were better than most at agreeing on things, and chief thing they agreed on was that they didn’t like troublemakers. This young Jewish rabble-rouser looked like trouble, so they killed him, publicly and brutally, as an example to others. The end.
Except it wasn’t. The man’s followers repeated stories about him, and some claimed that he was a god. Like other gods known at the time - Ba’al, Melqart, Tammuz, Osiris, Adonis - he didn’t really die, he rose from the dead.
This particular story gained traction in some quarters, notably among the penniless and itinerant. But the rising of a god raised more questions than it answered. Wasn’t this man a good Jew? Jews have only one god. They were notorious for not offering sacrifice to other gods, like those of the Empire.
Slowly, over the years, a theology came together. Humanity was evil and wicked and disobedient to their God, and if you weren’t, then you were probably deceiving yourself. Pride is a sin, you know. Besides, your ancestors were probably evil and wicked and disobeyed their God, so you inherit that guilt. And that’s why you have to die, because offending God means death. God is so righteous he can’t possibly let you off the hook. Somebody’s gotta die, and since all men are wicked, it can’t be a man. The victim has to be a god. Now, God can’t die, so he sent his son, because children are just property and can be disposed of as a parent wishes. The son was sacrificed, so all debts are paid and God doesn’t have to hate you anymore. Hallelujah.
The questions continued. Is the son of God human or divine? If human, how could the required blood sacrifice be sufficient? If divine, how could the god be an appropriate substitution, and how do you square that with monotheism? Is the God of the Jews truly an all-powerful creator of all that is, or is he just a god because people say he is, a glorified man like the Divine Augustus? If he has somehow begotten a child of a human mother, isn’t the resulting offspring merely a demi-god?
And what about this penalty? If God is all-powerful and all-knowing, how can mere humanity possibly offend against him? Can an ant flip me the finger? If God is the Eternal Judge, has he no latitude? Can’t he show mercy? Or must he obey some law greater than he? Finally, if only the death of a god fulfill the required punishment, doesn’t the victim have to stay dead?
Look at it this way. If someone came to you and said, “Your death will save all mankind,” would you choose to die? You very well might. Hundreds of thousands have offered up their lives for far less - to save a ship, to save a family, to save buddies in the battlefield, to save a drowning man, to save a child. In my hometown, we just lost two firefighters in the line of duty. Firefighters and police go running toward trouble while everyone else is running away, and there is sometimes a very high price to be paid for that heroism. Our highest honors are reserved for such brave people.
But say someone came to you and said, “To save all humanity, you’re going to have a really bad day, you’ll be dead by 3:00, but then two days later you’ll rise again as a god,” you really don’t have to be much of a hero to take that deal.
Jesus had a really bad weekend for your sins.
About 300 years after the event, the Roman Emperor convened a council to settle all of these troublesome questions once and for all, and to settle the hash of those who disagreed. There is only one God, who impregnated a virgin by a second god, and she gave birth to a third god, but they’re all one God. This third God lived a short life before being ritually sacrificed in payment for the sins of humanity, then rose from the dead in some kind of corporeal but different form (note that the Scriptures say he was generally not recognized), ascended bodily into heaven, and now rules at the right hand of the One God. And he’ll be back Real Soon Now.
This was the press release of the official religion of the Roman Empire, and everyone had better agree. The Romans had ways of dealing with disagreeable troublemakers.
So today I’m singing the Hallelujah Chorus with a choir and orchestra. The Romans are all but gone, replaced by a kindly old man who calls himself Francis. The closest most people get to kings of kings and lords of lords is Game of Thrones. Still, Handel wrote some really good choral music, and it’s great to have the opportunity to sing it. Happy Easter!
You see, once upon a time there was an itinerant and penniless Jewish preacher in who lived in a squabbling and contentious region that was usually controlled by other nations who could agree on things. First it was the Assyrians and Babylonians, then the Persians, then the Greeks, and finally after a brief unsuccessful period of self-rule, the Romans. Romans were better than most at agreeing on things, and chief thing they agreed on was that they didn’t like troublemakers. This young Jewish rabble-rouser looked like trouble, so they killed him, publicly and brutally, as an example to others. The end.
Except it wasn’t. The man’s followers repeated stories about him, and some claimed that he was a god. Like other gods known at the time - Ba’al, Melqart, Tammuz, Osiris, Adonis - he didn’t really die, he rose from the dead.
This particular story gained traction in some quarters, notably among the penniless and itinerant. But the rising of a god raised more questions than it answered. Wasn’t this man a good Jew? Jews have only one god. They were notorious for not offering sacrifice to other gods, like those of the Empire.
Slowly, over the years, a theology came together. Humanity was evil and wicked and disobedient to their God, and if you weren’t, then you were probably deceiving yourself. Pride is a sin, you know. Besides, your ancestors were probably evil and wicked and disobeyed their God, so you inherit that guilt. And that’s why you have to die, because offending God means death. God is so righteous he can’t possibly let you off the hook. Somebody’s gotta die, and since all men are wicked, it can’t be a man. The victim has to be a god. Now, God can’t die, so he sent his son, because children are just property and can be disposed of as a parent wishes. The son was sacrificed, so all debts are paid and God doesn’t have to hate you anymore. Hallelujah.
The questions continued. Is the son of God human or divine? If human, how could the required blood sacrifice be sufficient? If divine, how could the god be an appropriate substitution, and how do you square that with monotheism? Is the God of the Jews truly an all-powerful creator of all that is, or is he just a god because people say he is, a glorified man like the Divine Augustus? If he has somehow begotten a child of a human mother, isn’t the resulting offspring merely a demi-god?
And what about this penalty? If God is all-powerful and all-knowing, how can mere humanity possibly offend against him? Can an ant flip me the finger? If God is the Eternal Judge, has he no latitude? Can’t he show mercy? Or must he obey some law greater than he? Finally, if only the death of a god fulfill the required punishment, doesn’t the victim have to stay dead?
Look at it this way. If someone came to you and said, “Your death will save all mankind,” would you choose to die? You very well might. Hundreds of thousands have offered up their lives for far less - to save a ship, to save a family, to save buddies in the battlefield, to save a drowning man, to save a child. In my hometown, we just lost two firefighters in the line of duty. Firefighters and police go running toward trouble while everyone else is running away, and there is sometimes a very high price to be paid for that heroism. Our highest honors are reserved for such brave people.
But say someone came to you and said, “To save all humanity, you’re going to have a really bad day, you’ll be dead by 3:00, but then two days later you’ll rise again as a god,” you really don’t have to be much of a hero to take that deal.
Jesus had a really bad weekend for your sins.
About 300 years after the event, the Roman Emperor convened a council to settle all of these troublesome questions once and for all, and to settle the hash of those who disagreed. There is only one God, who impregnated a virgin by a second god, and she gave birth to a third god, but they’re all one God. This third God lived a short life before being ritually sacrificed in payment for the sins of humanity, then rose from the dead in some kind of corporeal but different form (note that the Scriptures say he was generally not recognized), ascended bodily into heaven, and now rules at the right hand of the One God. And he’ll be back Real Soon Now.
This was the press release of the official religion of the Roman Empire, and everyone had better agree. The Romans had ways of dealing with disagreeable troublemakers.
So today I’m singing the Hallelujah Chorus with a choir and orchestra. The Romans are all but gone, replaced by a kindly old man who calls himself Francis. The closest most people get to kings of kings and lords of lords is Game of Thrones. Still, Handel wrote some really good choral music, and it’s great to have the opportunity to sing it. Happy Easter!