Father, Forgive

(This post is the message that I gave in my part of the Stuttgart Good Friday Service, 2012)

Somewhere, somehow we seem to have lost our way. We forgot what our purpose was. We were made to walk with God in the cool of the afternoon, as Adam used to do in Genesis. Like Adam, when we can make our own choices, we tend to choose wrong. We turn our back on God, and do what seems right to us. We became cursed, sentenced to death, banished from God.

Not being able to approach God, not being in the presence of the king leaves an empty hole in the heart of humanity. But God planted seeds of hope, messages for us to find. Seeds of hope from the moment the young couple lost their home. Words of hope to an old couple unable to have children. Words of hope through not just the prophets, but from the lips of an old woman pleading King David to restore his banished son, 2 Sam 14.14, “Even God is not content in leaving one banished, but is working on restoring him to his presence.” (NHP)

Through humanity’s history, we see God’s faithful working, defining righteousness, defining sin, giving us opportunities, but still humanity missed, forgot to listen. All that God did with Israel led to this moment in history, this day that we remember.

Jesus came in the flesh to fulfill all righteousness, to teach us, to give us hope. Still, humanity refused to listen. John’s Gospel goes so far as to say that humanity not only refused, but utterly rejected Jesus. Still he completed his mission. Paul puts it this way to the Romans, “rarely will someone die for a decent man, though perhaps for a godly man, but while we were enemies…” It was humanity that put Jesus on the cross, and while humanity was as hostile towards God, we were nailing God, the Son of God to the cross, Jesus utters words of grace, words of hope. As he hung dying, his lips uttered a prayer that God will gloriously answer, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.”

That’s humanity, that’s us. We don’t know what we are doing, but this Good Friday many years ago, we were given words of hope, words of grace. “Father, forgive.”