The King Forsaken

April 18 2014 Good Friday Sermon

The King Forsaken

Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?" that is, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, "This man is calling Elijah." And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to Him to drink. But the others said, "Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save Him." And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up His spirit.

Sermon: The King Forsaken

"My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?"

Can God forsake his Son? Can God forsake his people? God considered the Israelites His "firstborn son" (Exodus 4:22). That question was on the lips of the Israelites in Egypt. It seemed to them that they were no more than a common orphan. They had been slaves in Egypt for 430 years. They lived under a cruel tyrant who made their life a living hell. They had to live in that strange land of Egypt, where people did strange things like worship nature and the environment—otherwise known as the sun-god, Ra. Or strange things like worshiping their political leader—Pharaoh, the King of Egypt. It was his strange and evil mind that came up with a dastardly "final solution" to the Israelite problem in his land: drown all their baby boys.

But the children of Israel were not forsaken. These were no orphans; they were God's special and privileged children. Although they would often turn their backs on Him, the Lord would not forsake them. A boy would be born to them who wouldn't go under. His name was Moses, whose name means, "drawn out of water." The water was supposed to be a tomb for him, but God made it a womb from which He would draw out a deliverer for Israel, a savior, who would take it to that hellish Pharaoh and his gods with ten plagues.

Plagues such as the ninth one, when God spread that pitch-black darkness over Egypt for three days. A darkness that could be felt in one's bones. A darkness that immobilized them so completely that no one even got out of their beds for three days. But in the midst of that hellish darkness, God's firstborn son, Israel, had light.

Or plagues such as the tenth and final one, where every firstborn in the land was marked out to die—even Pharaoh's son, the Prince, whom they also worshiped. But God did not forsake His firstborn. He told them to lift up a hyssop branch with lamb's blood and paint their doorposts. God would look at the blood and be pleased, and pass over that house, sparing the Israelites. Out of the darkness of that night came the loudest cry that's ever been heard as Pharaoh and the Egyptians were forsaken by their gods. Meanwhile, God gave His firstborn escape to freedom.

But those Israelites aren't the only ones in Holy Writ to be given such an exalted and privileged title as God's "firstborn." You bear that exalted title as well. In fact, on this holy night the Holy Spirit has gathered you here together to be—as it says in Hebrews, God's "assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven" (12:23). To our shame, we, too, have been unfaithful firstborns. We, too, have turned our backs on the Lord and His Word. We, too, have not trusted in His promised care and lived as though we are orphans in this world. And time and again, we, too, have forsaken Him for substitute gods. Perhaps we don't crassly worship the sun like the Egyptians did, but we live as though a flush bank account would be the sunshine of our lives. Perhaps we don't bow down to our political leaders like the Egyptians did, but we look to them to take care of us and supply our needs. Perhaps we don't bow down to idols carved out of stone, but there we are again, bowing down to whatever will bring us popularity and "success." Our idols and other gods are just as real. Joshua's threat to firstborn Israel is a threat for us as well: "If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then He will turn and do you harm and consume you, ..." (Joshua 24:20).

Fear must grip your hearts. When you hear that threat you must and be terrified. And so you must repent! But once the fear of punishment has gripped your heart and you have repented of your sin, then consider how God has already followed through with this threat. It is already done and over! You must take to heart tonight's reading from the Passion according to St. Matthew, and rejoice. For here you hear how God followed through with his threat and punished his Son, Jesus Christ, and how he delivers you from punishment. For the Spirit has gathered you here this night to bring to your remembrance how He delivered His firstborn in Egypt.

At the cross, the plagues are replayed again. There's the ninth one again. But this time it's not three days of darkness in Egypt, but three hours of darkness throughout the world. This time there is no special area of light anywhere, but the darkness is total and complete.

And then there's the tenth one. But this time it won't be a wicked king's firstborn son who will die. It will be God's innocent, faithful firstborn Son, Jesus Christ, the King of kings, given to bear all of man's opposition to God and be struck down. This time would have no blood-marked door to spare God's firstborn, for Jesus came to be the blood-marked door that saves unfaithful firstborns. This time there would be no loud cry of terror from Egyptian lips, but a loud cry of victory, as God's faithful firstborn, Jesus, suffers the outer darkness of hell in man's place, completes salvation, and yields up the spirit, the one that brings sinners freedom and escape from God's just anger. Hear how God follows through on His threat. God's firstborn Son is damned and forsaken, that you might be saved and embraced by God's mercy. Take this to heart. Believe it firmly, and cast your sins away from you and onto God's only begotten Son who has carried them to the cross.

"I will make Him the firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth" (Psalm 89:27). But for this to happen, God's king not only had to be lifted high on a cross, He had to be lifted out of the three-day darkness of His grave in the resurrection and the ascension, enthroned at God's right hand, that we might reign with Him. There He is, the "firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth" (Revelation 1:5). The one who rules for the sake of His harassed and suffering assembly called the Church.

Unlike Israel, and us, He was and is, the faithful firstborn. Note how He dies in perfect control. He dies voluntarily, for His desire is to do the will of the Father. What an example for faith. You heard Him cry, "My God, My God," even though there is no earthly evidence that God hears or is interested. But in the midst of that horrific anguish and suffering, He doesn't turn His back on His Father; He still addresses God with the personal, "My." This is the faith that has been credited to you in your Baptism, whereby He names you "My child" and the reason God looks upon you with such favor.

In order to save His firstborn Israel, a deliverer was "drawn out of water." But on this Good Friday, we see how God delivered the world. God is pleased for your sake to immerse His firstborn Son into the sea of your sin and death, that you might be drawn out of the baptismal font, forgiven and alive with God's Spirit, which continues to perfectly vivify you. To save Israel in Egypt, a hyssop branch had to be daubed in blood and lifted up to mark the doors. But on this Good Friday, we see a hyssop branch (Matthew calls it a "reed") with sour wine being lifted to the lips of our door, Jesus, the One whose blood marks you as one redeemed by Christ. Pharaoh's "final solution" to kill baby boys was no "solution" at all. It was pure evil. But on this Good Friday, we are again reminded of God's "final solution" to the reign of sin, death, and the devil—the death of His only begotten Son, our Crucified King, whose sacrifice is pure love directed at you.

Amen.