Sermon: “Our Great High Priest”

Texts: Psalm 22:1-15; Hebrews 4:12-16

28^th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

October 11, 2009

Scripture introduction.  I think you’ll agree that the passage from Psalm 22 that Amanda just read is deeply discouraging.  In fact when Jesus was hanging on the Cross, he quoted this psalm, expressing his feelings of utter abandonment: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”[1]  As with most of the sad psalms—the laments—this one eventually strikes a somewhat hopeful note, affirming God’s history of coming to the aid of the people of faith.  However, our lectionary reading covers only the first half of the psalm.  As you know, I generally focus my sermons on the second text; but today I plan to use both because I do not want the sad part of Psalm 22 to go without comment.

Our second reading is from the New Testament Letter to the Hebrews.  The book’s title is something of a misnomer.  It really is not a letter, but rather an extended sermon.  Nor is it explicitly addressed to any community of Hebrews or Jews.  There are hints in the book and in history that it was written for Christians in Rome, many of whom probably had been Jewish before their conversion.  And the book refers extensively to the Hebrew Bible—the Old Testament.  Maybe the book became known as the Letter to the Hebrews because only someone familiar with the Old Testament would understand much of its argument.  The author remains unidentified, although some have attributed it to the Apostle Paul.  Yet even in ancient times scholars could see that this work was written in a style of Greek that was more sophisticated even than that used by the well-educated Paul.  It’s probably the most elegant and artistic Greek in the New Testament.

Sermon.  One of my friends in seminary was the Reverend Dr. Majid Abel.  He was from Pakistan and had come to Louisville Seminary for graduate work.  As I recall, he was from the city of Lahore.  Christians in Pakistan constitute a very small minority of the population—between 1% and 2% by some estimates.  While Christianity was favored during the period of British colonial rule, after the British left and Pakistan became separated from India, the country became an Islamic republic.  Majid often told us about what it’s like to be a Christian in Pakistan.  Being a very small religious minority can be oppressive even in a liberal democracy, but the fact is that the constitution and laws of Pakistan favor the Islamic faith.  There is no real security for Christians.[2] 

According to the laws of Pakistan persons can be arrested and imprisoned for what is called “blasphemy”—which is loosely defined as anything that undermines or casts doubt upon the Islamic faith.  Any kind of evangelization by Christians technically constitutes blasphemy against Islam; so Christians must be very careful about when, and to whom, they express their Christian beliefs.  Even leaving the church windows open so that preaching or singing can be heard outside can constitute evangelization under the law.  For this reason Christians in Pakistan try to keep a very low profile.  They may go for months without being seriously molested; but because the laws are so vague, at almost any time a Muslim can bring a blasphemy charge against any Christian, with arrest and imprisonment often following.  That’s if the authorities are involved.  Often what happens is that a shouted charge of blasphemy will cause a mob to develop, and the targeted Christian will be attacked—and often his family and his church.  When that happens, the police never show up until the Christians have been beaten or killed and the mob has disappeared.  If in the process a Christian home or church has been set afire, the fire department does not answer the call.  Even the threat of a blasphemy charge can intimidate Christians and be used as leverage against them in hiring decisions and in commercial and property disputes.

The seminary recently forwarded a prayer request from Majid, who wrote as follows:  “I want to request that you keep the church in Pakistan in your prayers.  In the last three or four months several tragedies have taken place due to [the] blasphemy law.  Many Christian homes were burned and many people were killed brutally [in a town called Gojra][3]. . . . I am actively involved in efforts to seek justice for the victims and [to promote] interfaith harmony.  I am general secretary of the Interfaith Peace Council, Co-chair of the ad hoc committee on Christian Muslim relations, and [a] member of the Pakistan Christian Action Forum (PCAF) formed by the heads of all mainline denominations in Pakistan to deal with issues faced by the Christian community in Pakistan.”  As I read Majid’s prayer request, which has been added to our church’s prayer list, I thought of Psalm 22.

Surely the Christians of Pakistan hear their own voices in the lament of the psalmist: “My God, . . . why are you so far from helping me?  I cry, but you do not answer.  I am scorned by others and despised by the people.  Many bulls encircle me, strong bulls surround me.  I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast; my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.”  In light of the conditions and the dangers that they face daily, it is hard to imagine how a people like the Pakistani Christians can continue to have faith.  If faith, as John Calvin defined it, involves “a firm and certain knowledge of God’s benevolence toward us,”[4] one can certainly wonder how those Christians maintain a belief in God’s goodness toward them.

The doctor tells us that the cancer has returned.  Searching for employment after being laid off from what we thought would be a lifetime job, we receive our twentieth rejection letter.  After the flood we return to our home and to the stinking mess that now covers all of our belongings and irreplaceable family photographs and mementos.  Just when we thought we had enough saved for a comfortable, if not lavish retirement, the value of our investments drops to a level that will require another decade of work.  Someone we thought was a friend cuts us deeply and unfairly, dragging our reputation through the dirt.  And these are the things that happen to us.  The worst things are the ones we do to ourselves.  Sometimes we are the friend who has been unfaithful.  Sometimes we have neglected family members.  Sometimes we have been dishonest with ourselves and with others.  Whether or not we get caught, we feel like we are in quicksand of our own making—sinking lower every day.  Mired in troubles often of our own making, we consider God’s word and God’s law; and then we realize that “the word of God is living and active, sharper than a two-edged sword.”  As we read in Hebrews, “Before [God] no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.” 

But the writer of Hebrews does not leave us naked before God.  For we are not alone.  We are not alone.  We have a high priest on our side, none other than Jesus Christ.  And what does a priest do?  A priest is the one who mediates between us and God.  The priest is our go-between and our intercessor.  The priest, almost like a lawyer, pleads our case before God.  Our high priest knows exactly what it is like to be a human because he was fully human.  He is not “unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,” because “in every respect he was tested as we are.”  In effect, Jesus says, “Yes, Father, I know this person has been disobedient and stubborn, perverse and foolish.  Yet still this one remains yours, your creation, among those whom you love.  I know what this person has been through and what has been suffered.  I will vouch for this one.  I did not fail the test.  I did not miss the mark.  I did not sin.  I was completely obedient.  And now I offer my obedience to you as a sacrifice that covers up this one’s disobedience and brokenness.” [5]  Jesus our high priest was not only fully human, but also fully divine.  The Church has affirmed this statement, mysterious as it is, for the last 1600 years.  Jesus lived a human life on earth, with all of its joys, sorrows, and contradictions.  He died a human death.  Leading the way for all of us, he was the first to rise from the dead in resurrection.  He has lived on the earth and in the heavens. 

When we are feeling like the psalmist and wondering where God is, imagining that God does not hear our cries, we can be reminded by Hebrews that Jesus is beside us all the way.  He does not pass us by, but like the Good Samaritan stops to help us when we lie bleeding on the side of the road.[6]  Even the dejection and sadness of Psalm 22 eventually resolves into a kind of resigned hope that God will eventually help.  The good news of Christ is that God already has helped.  God was in Christ, so all of the help that we know is present in our great high priest, is actually help from God. 

I suspect this is something that Pakistani Christians have learned and internalized.  In spite of the very real dangers that surround them, they remain convinced of God’s good intentions toward them and are certain that, in the end, God’s good purpose for all humanity will work itself out.  Dare we say it—these Christians in a foreign land have found a faith that they are willing to die for.  And I have seen the same confidence in many of you, who are buffeted by the problems of life but who continue to have faith in God’s love.

God’s main purpose is not to judge us, but to love us.  Whatever may come our way, and however we may have messed things up, we can freely approach God’s throne and expect, through Christ, “to receive mercy and to find grace to help in our times of need.”