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On an Interstate highway somewhere in Pennsylvania, we begin to calculate how much longer before we arrived at home. Then, all estimates come to naught, when, for no apparent reason, traffic backs up and slows to a crawl. Two miles and twenty or thirty minutes later, we see that the problem is an accident, not in our lane, but in the opposing traffic across the median. Our delay is because people, including us, slow down to gape, to ponder, “Was anyone hurt?”, and pray gratefully. It might easily have been us by the side of the road. This time, it wasn’t. There, but for the grace of God, were we.

We watched, fascinated, with the rest of the world since the fateful accident last Thanksgiving, as Tiger Woods’ life unraveled. It’s a sordid and sad story, but we can’t turn away. Put our lives under a media microscope and how well would we fare? This time, it didn’t happen to us. There, but for the grace of God….

Something in us loves to watch a crash. Funniest home videos make audiences laugh at mishaps that look serious, but ultimately leave no scars. And while it seems hard for some to believe, NASCAR racing is the national sport attended by more fans than any other. More than seeing the checkered flag, these fans, like all of us, live for the crash, a moment of reflection, “I like to drive fast, too. There, but for God’s grace, am I.”

It’s no wonder, then, that the passion story is the longest, most revered narrative of our faith. We listen carefully, knowing what’s coming is a cross. We listen partly because this story anchors our faith. Yes; of course. But we listen also because this story is about a crash with life and death outcomes. We look at these characters, and we know that had we been there, we might have acted in similar fashion.

Peter betrays Jesus. I hate to admit it, but I might have done the same thing; I’m capable of betraying even those I love. We all are. The disciples fall asleep in the garden. Even fishermen patience; and so do we. Pilate uses his power not to champion goodness, but to keep the peace. Like him, I’m capable of compromise, and I too often I settle for the easy way and avoid the conflict. Judas believes he has a better way, and hopes, perhaps, that he will force Jesus into calling for an uprising. I’m capable of manipulating others, too. The soldiers just do their jobs, with efficiency and an added bit of cruelty. We dismiss as different from us labeling them merely as “the Jews.” But we are just like that crowd; fans who turn fickle. We know that we quickly turn on our leaders, and on God. The truth is, if we look at this story with open eyes, open minds, and open hearts, we see ourselves as well as our neighbors. Thank God this happened in another time, in a different culture, to unsophisticated people. We’re tempted to dismiss it all and merely drive along, as if nothing happened.

But the truth is, this story is about us, too. There, but for the grace of God, are we. That’s the final point, I suppose. It’s the grace of God at work in this story. So we come to the table of God’s grace, and we remember the story. And God’s grace is here, even if today it appears as lifeless as Jesus himself at this story’s gloomy conclusion.

This passion story is about Jesus, and his faithfulness in spite of the pain. But it’s also about us, and our brokenness, our faults, our sin, which causes the pain and find in Christ’s pain a mysterious healing. So don’t look away. This is our story. Yes, here we are. And here, too, in this story of death, is the graceful hope we tried to kill. We are sinners. And Christ dies for us.

Yes, there, by the grace of God, are we. And there, beside us all the way, is Jesus our Lord, the God’s love in the flesh, broken for us.

Amen.

Mamaroneck United Methodist, March 28, 2010.
 

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