Pilate s Questions to Jesus 2. What Have You Done? John 18: 35-36 Jesus trial before Pilate continues. Or should I say: Pilate s trial before Jesus continues? The Roman governor didn t get very far with his first question: Are you the King of Jews? And he won t get very far with his next question either: What have you done? Well, Pilate did know the answer to his question at least partially. He knew what crime Jesus was guilty of He was guilty of making the leaders of the Jews jealous; of interfering with their stranglehold on the spiritual life of the people; He was guilty of being different and of encouraging the people to be different too. As far as any real threat to Rome well, He might have had a claim to be King of the Jews Pilate actually had that put on a sign he had nailed to the Cross. But Jesus wasn t a threat to the emperor. Oh, He had ruffled a few political feathers, but He certainly didn t have an army, and He hadn t seemed to be fomenting a large scale rebellion against Caesar. No, I think Pilate was more interested in Jesus as a curiosity, a strange character whose place center stage would soon be filled by some other strange character. Judea was full of them! And actually, if Jesus had told Pilate what He had done, the governor might have been rather incredulous. After all, He had healed the sick, stopped storms, walked on water, fed a multitude twice, exorcised demons, raised the dead, and pretty much did things Pilate would find hard to believe. Or wouldn t really be interested in. But it was far more than these obvious things. Jimmy Wayne never knew his father. His mother spent most of his childhood in prison. She got out when he was twelve, took off with her boyfriend, tossing Jimmy on the back seat of their car, where they lived for nearly a year, running from the police, until they dumped Jimmy in the parking lot of a Pensacola, Florida bus station and took off. He was thirteen, with only the clothes he was wearing and a backpack that contained his few possessions. Homeless, he wandered through several neighborhoods until he saw a man working in his garage Russell was his name. Jimmy asked if he had any work he could do. Russell called his wife, Bea, out to the garage and they agreed to let Jimmy mow their lawn. Russell and Bea knew he was homeless, but Jimmy wouldn t tell them that he was afraid they would send him away who would want a homeless boy mowing their lawn? Eventually, Russell and Bea got Jimmy to move in. He had his own bedroom, his own bathroom, a place at the dinner table; even a place on the living room couch where he could watch television.
But he kept his backpack right by the front door. He wouldn t unpack it. He had been betrayed, abandoned, rejected so many times, he couldn t bring himself to trust that Russell and Bea wouldn t eventually kick him out. I ve known a lot of people in my life - even good church-going Christians who have been afraid to unpack their spiritual backpacks. Afraid that one day, a celestial voice will say: Go away. You don t belong. You re not this enough; you re not that enough, you re not good enough. You don t deserve to be in this house with me. Pick up your backpack and find somewhere else to live. The broken and battered and shattered souls of life, with their unpacked backpacks. But why did Jesus die? Not because the Sanhedrin wanted Him dead. Not because Pilate had no backbone to stand up to the Jewish leaders. But because it was the only way God could show us ALL OF US that we do belong. That He does want us. That we are loved, even if, by some standard, we aren t good enough. We don t have to be good enough, because Jesus on the Cross was good enough for ALL OF US! And so we can unpack our backpacks and move in. To stay. And if you know someone who is still carrying around their unpacked backpack maybe that was the issue with Nikolas Cruz tell them God wants them to unpack! Jimmy Wayne did finally. Lived with Russell and Bea. Got a college education. Found a career as a singer and songwriter. And works to better the lives of children and youth in the foster care system. Unpack your backpacks folks. We belong. That s what Jesus did. And yet more. Cateura is a small village near Asuncion, the capital city of Paraguay. The primary crop of Cateura is garbage. The children and youth who live there, who have no future to speak of, collect the refuse and garbage and trash and sell it for pennies a pound. Like the refuse they collect, these are the kids that have been discarded as well. Thrown out with the trash. And that s all they would have been except for two men. Favio Chavez wanted to do something to improve their lives. He envisioned a music school for these kids a wild dream if there ever was one. Who in Cateura had money for musical instruments? So he enlisted Don Cola Gomez, a trash worker and carpenter, to help. He had never seen a violin in his life. But working from a description, he made one from a paint can and an oven tray. He made a cello out of an oil barrel and made tuning knobs from a paintbrush, the heel of a shoe, and a wooden spoon. Stradivarius he is not, but he turned junk into something that could keep the kids of his village from being junk. Washtubs have become kettle drums; drainpipes are trumpets. And the discarded youth of Cateura are now playing Beethoven on trash.
And these kids have made news programs, have been tutored by professional musicians, even traveled the world. They are known as the Landfill Harmonic and the Recycled Orchestra of Cateura. From trash comes beauty. Think of the lives of those Jesus touched. There was Simon the fisherman, who Jesus nicknamed Rocky, (Peter), not because he was as a solid as a rock, but because his faith rocked back and forth as if in a hurricane. There was Mary Magdalene, NOT, by the way, a lady of the evening, but a woman who likely suffered from clinical depression and who was not welcome in polite society. There was Paul, the great missionary, but who, as Saul, was nothing but a religious thug (and I ll give credit to Max Lucado for that term). Trash. Who would want them? But Jesus recycled them. He recycles us too. If we measured ourselves by God s standards, how many of us would not be trash? How many of our good deeds and righteous actions would be anything more than refuse? Even the most honest Pharisees who dotted every i and crossed every t knew that they could never please God as He wanted to be pleased. But Jesus died for all of us, trash or not. He took the Cross upon His beaten and bloody shoulders and died for all of us who could never be as righteous as God would want us to be. You know, Calvary, the hill on which Jesus died, was originally Jerusalem s landfill. Garbage couldn t remain in the holy city because it would defile it. So it was all tossed outside the city, until it grew to a hill so high, it was perfect for crucifixions. So Jesus, the sinless Son of God, was thrown out not just with the trash, but as trash. And on that Cross, He recycled all of us. As I ve known a lot of people, even church-going Christians, who are afraid to unpack their backpacks, I ve known just as many who just can t believe that they can be recycled. That Jesus would actually die for them. They just can t accept the meaning of grace. There s got to be a price. There is. He paid it. And we don t need a coupon. And there s no expiration date. For by grace, we can be a lot like the Landfill Harmonic, the Recycled Orchestra of Cateura, making beautiful music in praise of our God who loves us THAT MUCH! And yet there is more. What have you done? Pilate asked Jesus. What He did was give hope. My favorite part of the Easter story is about the two disciples heading back to Emmaus on Easter afternoon, their hopes shattered. A stranger joins them, hiding His wrists in the folds of His robe so these two would not see the holes in them. What are you talking about? He asked them. About Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet, who was crucified. But we had hoped, we had hoped, we had hoped that He would restore the Kingdom of Israel. We had hoped He would send the Romans packing, take over the throne of David, make Israel the great nation it once was.
We had hoped that the political, financial, material, temporal world we envisioned would come to be through Him. And as far as they were concerned, it had not. And it would not. They were giving up, because you really can t build a life on Emmaus hopes. But there is another kind of hope. Dottie had a friend, Gayle, who died of breast cancer about thirty years ago. Dottie remembers Gayle telling her that her spirit was ready to soar but that her cancer filled body was holding her back. Well, it was. But it wasn t. Because Gayle knew where her spirit was going when it broke free of her cancer-filled body. She had hope the real hope that goes beyond the kind these two disciples on the road to Emmaus had been holding on to for far too long. The kind that sounds oh so nice, but bears r no fruit. Gayle s hope was the kind that would release her from all that was holding her down and giving her the trust, the faith, the assurance, that she was about to soar! The cancer didn t defeat her she defeated the cancer. And that s not just pie in the sky when you die hope. That s a hope that assures us that since our spirits will soar, we need not be grounded in this life. The hope we have in Christ Jesus, who died, yes, but who broke free from His tomb, is the hope that no matter what tries to entomb us in this life, we are still free. It s like I have often heard: Easter isn t just about life after death; it s about life after birth. And I ve known a lot of people even good, church-going Christians, who live their life with an Emmaus hope, rather than Gayle s hope. An Emmaus hope gets us nowhere; Gayle s hope well it makes our spirits soar! What have you done? Pilate asked Jesus. If only he knew. If only Pilate could have grasped the hope Jesus died for. His story might have had a distinctly different ending! As a matter of fact, if Pilate had only understood the answer to his question What have you done? he might have been a hero, rather than on the side of the villains. Jesus would still have gone to the Cross there was no other way. But maybe Pilate could have unpacked his spiritual backpack, been recycled, and found a hope that was greater than anything he might have found anywhere else. Have you opened up your life to Jesus? Really opened it up? Have you ever asked Jesus: what have you done? The answer is the same as it was nearly 2000 years ago. Have you listened to the answer? Because that is the beginning of a saving relationship with Him.
Worship February 25, 2018 Call: Litany Assurance: Litany Children s Message: Belong we belong to God Praise: Lord God of love, when we feel lost, alone, and abandoned, help us know that you love us, that you want us, and that we belong to you for today and until eternity. Lord God of grace, when we feel unworthy and empty and useless, help us to know that in your grace, we are redeemed and renewed, recycled, and restored. Lord God of hope, when we see darkness and despair before us, help us to know that we have in Jesus a hope that transcends all things. Lord God, heal our broken spirits, relieve us of our guilts and fears, help us to know that we can be new creatures through you, and lead us in the way that brings us always closer to you. Needs, etc. LORD S PRAYER