Sermon for September 14, 2025

Readings:

Exodus 32:7-14
Psalm 51:1-11
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

I became an Episcopalian in college and the parish that sponsored me for the priesthood was actually a college chapel at the University of Miami. That chapel had a very interesting set of stations of the cross hanging on the wall in the nave. Now if you aren’t familiar with the stations of the cross, they are a very old devotional practice of remembering Jesus’s final moments through fourteen different reflections or stations that are often depicted in some artistic form. We have stations of the cross here. That is what those little pictures are hanging on the beams all around you. 

Well, at the chapel in Miami, it will come as no surprise that our stations had a very Caribbean flavor to them. They were actually all carved panels of wood that were done by an artist in Haiti. There were sometimes a topic of discussion though, because occasionally someone would make the observation that all of the Roman soldiers depicted, including those nailing Jesus to the cross, had distinctly African features. Now, the knee-jerk reaction that some folks would have to seeing this would be to proclaim that this artwork was racist in some way, because the “bad guys” were depicted as African. There is no question that racism finds its way into all aspects of human society because it is a product of human sinfulness and always has been. But the mistake some people made in their rush to pronounce a judgement on those stations of the cross is that they overlooked one crucial detail: the artist was Haitian. The artist was Haitian and he knew exactly what he was doing in depicting those Roman soldiers with African features. He wanted them to look like himself. He was putting himself into the story. The Romans, the crucifiers, the sinners, the “bad guys,” they needed to look like the person he saw when he looked in the mirror. The artist knew what he was doing. As someone who could have justifiably depicted the Romans as the French or the English, or any other nationality that had participated in the slave trade (and there are many), he chose instead to cast himself in that role. The oppressor in this artist’s depiction of Jesus’s journey to the cross, was himself.

Now I know that there are people who would want to analyze this on many different levels and make all sorts of pronouncements based on culture, history, or Psychology, and some of that may be perfectly true. But a fundamental part of the Christian journey of faith is the ability to recognize one’s own sinfulness. The ritual of baptism, where we actually become Christian, necessarily involves a recognition of one’s own sinful nature. It is not enough to point to the sins of others; we must take responsibility for our own sins. That is repentance and the Christian faith begins with an act of repentance. As September the 14^th is the Feast of the Holy Cross in the church’s calendar, I have been thinking specifically about the cross of Christ this week, and my mind was drawn to those stations of the cross in Miami carved lovingly and carefully by that Haitian artist. And I can’t help but marvel at the spiritual maturity that it takes to recognize sinfulness and evil within your own self. That is what that artist was doing. He was saying that I, am not merely a passive bystander in the story of Jesus, but I am a sinner, and I am precisely the sort of person that Jesus died on the cross to save. I am a sinner, not because of my race, my gender, or my circumstances, but because of my humanity. Despite all of our therapy, and don’t get me wrong I am a huge proponent of therapy, it is a wonderful and life-saving thing, but despite therapy being more common, the ability to publicly and honestly acknowledge our own sinfulness and broken human nature seems to be less common. It is becoming a lost art. And I’m sorry, but I have to think that part of the reason we are living in this age of vicious division and political violence and online hatred, is that we are losing the ability to own and claim our own sinfulness. It is so much easier to always be a victim. It is so much easier to always look for the fault in someone else. The situation we are in is because of the radical left or the reactionary right. It is the fault of the mentally ill, the gun lobby, the internet, politicians. In times of great upheaval and uncertainty we want someone to blame. It has become increasingly unpopular and uncommon to own our own faults. Everyone else is the problem. I don’t often reference or refer to Taylor Swift, I’m not a devotee, but I am quite fond of her song anti-hero because I think it does just this: it shows someone taking responsibility for the troubles in their own life.

It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me
At tea time, everybody agrees
I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Such a great lyric. We don’t want to look in the mirror. We don’t want to examine our own words or our own actions. We don’t want to acknowledge that we all share some responsibility for the pain and suffering in the world. Taylor’s song was very popular, but sadly the kind of honest introspection that she is singing about isn’t. We want to blame everyone else for our problems. The temptation to blame others for all your problems is so pervasive that it goes all the way back to the beginning when Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the serpent. We don’t want to take responsibility. And if all the problems in our lives are the fault of someone else, or some other group, then the solution is very easy: just eliminate them. Eliminate those people. This is what humans have done throughout history. This is what the Romans were doing nailing Jesus to the cross: eliminating a problem. This is what Paul was doing when he was having Jesus’s followers stoned to death. He was simply eliminating a problem. Until one day he realized that HE was the problem. 

In Paul’s letter to Timothy, he writes: “The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners– of whom I am the foremost.” Of whom I am the foremost…do not forget that Paul added that little bit at the end. Paul isn’t just saying that YOU need Jesus. Paul is saying that I need Jesus. Paul is testifying to his own sinfulness and brokenness. He isn’t just saying y’all are messed up. Y’all are a problem. He is saying we are a problem. He is saying I am a problem. I am a sinner. We sinners, and that means all of us, we are the problem. We are the ones Christ came to save. We are the lost sheep. 

That is why the grace of the Lord is such an amazing gift for Paul, because he knows that is has nothing to do with merit or righteousness. Paul did not deserve the love of God. He says himself that he was a man of violence. But he says, he received mercy anyways. Paul did not deserve God’s mercy, but he received it. Paul did not deserve God’s love, but he received it. Paul did not deserve God’s grace, but he received it, because that is what grace is. Grace is a gift you don’t earn and don’t deserve. It is pure gift. Friends, our world needs more grace right now. Our world needs more people who know that they are sinners, who understand that they are not righteous, who can acknowledge that they have received grace and mercy from God and therefore must MUST show grace and mercy to others. Even if they don’t deserve it. Especially if they don’t deserve it. Because that is what grace is.

I am a big fan of the Wall Street Journal columnist and former Regan speech writer Peggy Noonan. Her columns the last couple weeks in particular have really been on point. Two weeks ago she shared an exchange that she had had with a veteran political consultant who was talking about young political operatives, and something she said really struck me. She said to this political consultant: “I write for those 33-year-old operatives you speak of who have actually never seen grace.” If they don’t know what it looks like they can’t emulate it, they can’t adopt it and give it new life because they don’t know what it was.”

We need to wake up and realize that there are young people in our world right now who do not know or understand grace, so it is up to us to tell them, but more importantly show them, what it is and how it works. We have been taught, and shown, grace by the master. Our Lord didn’t just come to save the persecuted, he came to save the persecutors as well. He came to save sinners of all sorts. He came even to save those Romans that were nailing him to the cross. He asked God to forgive them with one of his last breaths. That is how grace works. It is given to those who don’t deserve it. Those of us who worship beneath the foot of the cross week after week, need to remember that. We need to remind the world what grace looks like.