The Presbyterian Pulpit
A sermon by the Rev. Dr. David E. Leininger
THE BLAME GAME
Delivered 4/9/09
Text: Isaiah 53:1-6
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The Blame Game. Have you ever noticed that there is
something in you and me that likes to assess blame? I do not
think that desire is simply malicious. Rather, I suspect it has
to do with our wanting to bring things to a conclusion. We do
not like unanswered questions. Check out the evening news. In
recent weeks and months we have been treated to regular
assessments of blame about the state of the economy - who did
what, when or who failed to do what, when. No unbiased answers,
to be sure, but the questions continue. The blame game.
I bring the subject up on this auspicious night because that
blame game has been played for centuries concerning the
crucifixion of Jesus. Five years ago, Mel Gibson's movie, "The
Passion of the Christ" (that's right - it's been five years)
brought the question into wide-screen focus as controversy arose
as to whether or not the movie was needlessly anti-Semitic.
Remember? Gibson said he based his movie script primarily on the
gospel accounts so, since the gospels themselves can be accused
of being anti-Jewish, he was willing to accept the charge.
As to the gospels being anti-Jewish, that is understandable,
if you know the background. First, understand that the gospels
are not history, at least not in the way we write history 2,000
years later. They are called GOSPEL; that means Good News, not
history. They were trying to do something beyond simply recount
a story - they were expressing a point of view. At the time the
gospels were finally written (almost a half century or more after
the actual events), Christians were viewed by many as merely a
certain type of Jew; the gospels wanted to dismiss that notion.
The truth, of course, is that most Jews of Jesus' day never
ever heard of him and could have cared less whether he lived or
died. Some knew of him and became followers. Some knew of him
and became concerned, the most notable being the leaders of the
Temple. They were afraid this rabble-rousing rabbi who went
around talking about the "Kingdom of God" was going to rouse the
wrath of the empire of Caesar, or at least Caesar's hand-picked
governor, Pontius Pilate. After all, Pilate was immensely
powerful, with even the High Priest only serving at the
governor's pleasure. To get on his bad side would have been most
hazardous, not only to career, but probably to health as well.
Now we encounter the scene. It is Passover time in Judea,
and a mob from all over the known world would be assembling in
Jerusalem. It has been described as Times Square on New Year's
Eve, but for two-and-a-half straight weeks and without
sanitation. Pilate had come to Jerusalem from his normal
residence in a palace by the sea. He only came up at Passover
time because there was such an opportunity for civil unrest and
he needed to be ready; there had previously been a Passover riot
that he had had to put down with a massacre. (1) Pilate would not
have been a happy camper.
Now the Jewish leaders come to Pilate with this one they say
is a danger. And to their credit, they genuinely believed it.
Here was a man who attracted large crowds; he had made a wreck of
the Temple courtyards just a few days ago, turning over the
tables of the money-changers and sellers of sacrificial animals,
all of whom had their jobs by being related to these same
leaders. This "Kingdom of God" talk was politically dangerous.
The High Priest was the one whom Pilate would hold responsible
for any civil disorder, especially at Passover. This was nothing
more than enlightened self-interest; that is why Caiaphas would
say privately, "it is better...one man die for the people than to
have the whole nation destroyed." (2)
Ultimately, the decision was Pilate's. The Apostles' Creed
gets it right when it states that Jesus "suffered under Pontius
Pilate." Pilate was boss; he wielded absolute authority in
Judea. The Roman legion, the army of occupation, answered
directly to him; and that meant so did everyone else.
Crucify Jesus? No big deal. That was a punishment
routinely handed out to troublemakers. Who knows how many others
suffered that fate under Pilate? He was a brutal tyrant who had
no moral qualms about executing anyone he perceived to be a
threat.
So why do the gospels treat the man relatively gently? That
has to do with something that occurred, not at the time of Jesus'
death, but rather something almost forty years later. In the
year 70 A.D. - just before the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke
were written, and a decade or two before John - the Roman general
Titus marched his legions through Jerusalem, massacred tens of
thousands of Jews, burned most of the city, and pulled down the
temple, stone by stone. It was Jerusalem's 9/11, a first century
holocaust. No wonder the gospel writers were not anxious to
assess blame on Rome; that might have been the end of them.
So how do we choose the winner of this "blame game?" First,
we can say that the Jews as a people did not do it, despite what
certain passages in the gospels, taken out of context, could lead
us to believe. Was it the High Priests? Not really. They
lacked the authority. Pilate? He would appear most culpable.
But for us, on this holy night, this night in which we
remember the Last Supper and recall the horrific events of
Calvary, we look at the total witness of scripture and are forced
to say, "I did - I killed Jesus!" We hear again the witness of
the prophet Isaiah thundering over the centuries before, "he was
wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon
him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we
are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all
turned to our own way, and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity
of us all."
Many of us debated Mel Gibson over the way he made "The
Passion of the Christ" five years ago, but in one respect he had
the right idea. Do you know whose hand it is that portrays the
Roman soldier pounding the nails into Jesus' flesh? Mel
Gibson's. Any extra could have played that role, but Gibson
chose to do it himself. Ask him the question then, who killed
Jesus? Ask me. Ask yourself.
"I did. I killed Jesus."
Amen.
1. See Luke 13:1
2. John 11:50
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