Good
Friday; Yr. C, March 29, 2013
Isaiah 52:13-53:12;
Psalm 22; Hebrews 10:16-25; John 18:1-19:42
Sermon
preached at St. Luke & St. Simon Cyrene Church
It’s the story of four children who, quite by accident, find
their way into a land called Narnia by going through the back of an old
wardrobe. Narnia’s in the midst of an eternal winter, under the rule of an evil
witch. The inhabitants of the land are
all animal-like (who talk, of course) including fauns and centaurs and
such. The witch calls herself the Queen
of Narnia, but everyone who’s worth anything knows that the real ruler of Narnia
is Aslan, the lion king … but he’s been absent for some time now. Everyone is waiting, longing even, for his
return.
The arrival of the children creates a stir. An old prophecy says that when two sons of
Adam and two daughters of Eve come to Narnia, Aslan will return and place them
on their thrones to become kings and queens of Narnia. The White Witch’s rule will end, and spring
will return to the land.
But one of the brothers betrays them all to the Whilte
Witch. He’s captured and eventually
rescued by Aslan’s forces. The witch,
however, claims her right to execute the traitor. In secret, Aslan makes a bargain with her,
and offers his own innocent life for that of the younger brother. That night the witch shaves his mane, ties
his legs, humiliates him and kills him on the ancient Stone Table in front of
all his enemies. The Queen leaves in
triumph prepared to go the next morning and kill the four children and defeat
Aslan’s army in battle. But when morning
comes … Aslan isn’t dead after all. He
returns and breathes new life into all those who have been held hostage by the
Queen. Together they return to join the
battle against evil. Good triumphs. Aslan defeats the Queen, and the four
children take their places on the four thrones … to bring peace and justice back
to Narnia.
Does anything about this story sound familiar? C. S. Lewis did an amazing job of putting our
faith story into a beautiful piece of fiction.
When I heard that the children were going to be reading this book, I
wondered how they would talk about it. It’s
a story about betrayal and forgiveness, about compassion and mercy. In it, we see the gift of vulnerability and the
power of sacrifice.
I asked my daughter what she thought of the story, and she said
that she liked it. Do you know that a Christian
wrote that story? “No”, she said. Her look said, “So what.” I little later I dared more, “Does this story
sound at all familiar?” “No”, she
answered. Hoping that the news wouldn’t
alienate her from the book forever, I said, “It’s really a story about
Jesus. Do you know which character is
Jesus in the story?” “The four
children?” She answered.
Maybe, I thought. The
children learned to forgive one another, and in them we can still see Jesus,
just as we see Jesus in one another’s faces today. I said, “I think Aslan is Jesus. Do you know why?” “No”, she said, and then I saw a spark in her
eyes. “Because he died?” She asked.
“Yes”, I nodded. “Because he died
and came back from the dead. Aslan came
back to set things right and the children helped him. Jesus died and came back too, and we are
those children who help him set things right.”
I found it ironic that this group of fifth graders was reading
such a powerful story as Christians everywhere walked the road toward Palm
Sunday, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday … and they couldn’t talk about any of
it in terms of faith. I found myself
even a little afraid to talk about it with my daughter, because I didn’t want her
to get in trouble for talking about religion in school. What a shame.
This is our story. One we are
hearing and living acutely this week. The entrance into Jerusalem, the gathering of
the disciples for Passover, communion experienced in bread and wine, betrayal
and death. Today, we stand at the Stone
Table looking death in the face, and cringing just like the two sisters in The
Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe as we imagine the one we love dying on a
cross.
When we watched the movie based on the book last weekend, my
daughter had us skip over the death scene in the movie. She can’t stand to watch any animal suffer. She jumped right from the humiliation of the
passion to the surprise and joy of the resurrection. But here we are gathered together, because
that’s what we do when we are confronted by death, especially death of the
innocent. What did we do when so many
first responders died at the Twin Towers in NYC. We came together. What did we do when fire
fighters rushed toward a burning house in Webster and were shot. We came together. Or when Lincoln was assassinated at the Ford
Theater or Martin Luther King, Jr. was murdered. We came together because when good people
die, we are confronted with the reality of our own vulnerability. We feel alone. Only in community do we find the strength,
only in community do we remember the story that the world longs to embrace …
but can’t or won’t or doesn’t talk about.
Only together do we see the color of spring pushing up through frozen
earth; especially here, we see the hope of new life in brutal death.
Lewis wrote, In Christ a
new kind of man appeared and the new kind of life which began in Him is to be
put into us.[1]
We become like him; we become lions … loving ferociously, counting on the
fact that God’s love will constantly be refilling us when our wells run dry. That kind of life transforms us and all those
we touch. It creates an environment of
hope, a hope the world is desperately searching for.
Today we look with the eyes of children and love as simply. We step through the wardrobe into another
world that comes alive in Narnia and we acknowledge death and the prospect of
new life. That is Jesus’ gift to us,
and our gift to the world.
Amen.
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