Father, Forgive

A Sermon for Good Friday
April 15, 2022

Text: John 18:1-19:42

Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak with them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

During the evening hours of November 14, 1940, Nazi Germany sent more than five hundred bombers to raid the English city of Coventry. “The Coventry Blitz”, as it’s often called, lasted over ten hours, leaving more than five hundred dead, 2,300 homes destroyed, and the town’s Gothic cathedral in ruins.

During the raid, many people in the town worked hard to try and save the cathedral from being totally lost in the flames, but they were unsuccessful. In the end, the only parts of the building still standing were the tower, the spire, and the outer wall. Everything else burned to the ground.

In the aftermath of the attack, the Provost of Coventry Cathedral, the Very Reverend Richard Howard, had two words inscribed on the wall behind the altar of the ruined building.

“Father, forgive.”

Notice that the inscription wasn’t “Father, forgive them.” Just “Father, forgive.” The Provost realized in that moment that the only way to break the endless cycle of violence and retribution was to choose love over hate. He made a commitment, not to seek revenge against those who were responsible for the bombing, but to seek peace and reconciliation. He understood that the only way to move forward was to acknowledge the fact that all of us are in need of forgiveness. All of us, no matter who we are or what we’ve done or left undone, need to be forgiven.

Coventry Cathedral was eventually rebuilt, but the ruins of the old, Gothic structure still remain to this day. Behind the altar lies a cross that was made out of two burned, wooden beams from the fallen building, and on the wall, directly behind the cross, are the words, “Father, forgive” etched in stone—a solemn reminder of the commitment made long ago to seek forgiveness over vengeance.

In the years that’ve passed since the end of World War II, the cathedral has become an international symbol of reconciliation. The words, “Father, forgive” are now used as the response in a Litany of Reconciliation that’s prayed at noon every weekday at the cathedral. The litany serves as a reminder to all of us that when we pray for the needs and concerns of the world around us, we also need to pray for ourselves, to confess that we’ve fallen short of our own call to love and serve, including those who’ve hurt us and caused us pain.

My brothers and sisters, that’s what it means to walk the way of the cross with Jesus—to empty one’s self and to strip away those things in our lives that are weighing us down and keeping us from experiencing true joy and true peace with God.

Our natural response to those who hurt us is to hurt them right back. We want them to suffer just as much as we’ve suffered. We want them to pay for the harm they’ve inflicted upon us. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” as we read in the Hebrew Scriptures. But, Jesus teaches us another way, a more loving and compassionate way. Jesus teaches us to choose love over hate—to forgive even our worst enemies.

That’s a tall order, isn’t it?

If you’re like me, it’s much easier to hang on to hatred and resentment than to forgive those who’ve caused so much pain and suffering in the world. On this Good Friday, in particular, I can’t help but think about the modern-day atrocities being committed in Ukraine. How can we, as people of faith, possibly forgive those who are responsible for bringing such violence and destruction to a country that simply wants to live in peace? How can we possibly love those who seek to kill innocent people? 

Where do we even begin?

To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure. But, I do know one thing.

Jesus is the way.

In those moments when we’re unsure of where we’re going or what we’re being called to do, Jesus is the way.

In those moments when fear begins to creep in and all hope seems lost, Jesus is the way.

In those moments when the pain and suffering of the world seem too much to bear, Jesus is the way.

As Christians, we put all our hope and all our faith in the one who laid down his life for us and offered himself as a sacrifice for the whole world. We put all our hope and all our faith in the one who teaches us that the way of the cross—the way of self-giving, sacrificial love—is the path to new and abundant life with God.

Through our Lord’s passion and death, we’ve come to know what perfect love looks like.

In John’s account of the passion narrative, which we heard just a few moments ago, Jesus is arrested and taken to Pilate’s headquarters, where he’s given every opportunity to tell the Roman governor exactly what he wants to hear. Pilate has the power to save him from the cross. He even says to Jesus at one point, “Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?”

All Jesus has to do is give up and admit he’s made a terrible mistake in challenging the way things are. All he has to do is surrender to the fear and say, “This is a burden too heavy for one man to bear.” But, Jesus refuses to walk away. He knows what he must do. Rather than choosing to save himself from the pain and degradation of the cross, Jesus keeps going, all the way to Calvary.

And, he dies so that we may live.

Maybe through this holy mystery of our Lord’s passion and death, we can begin to understand the importance of giving up our selves so that others may come to know the love of God in Christ through us.

Maybe that’s how we learn to forgive, even our worst enemies—by remembering the sacrifice Jesus made on our behalf. This isn’t a day of mourning. It’s a day for reconciliation, a day when we’re invited to gather up all the fears and concerns of the world around us and offer them up to God, trusting that, even now, God is making all things new.

In closing, I’d like for us to pray the Litany of Reconciliation from Coventry Cathedral. While we pray the litany,  remember the cross of Christ and the sacrifice Jesus made for all of us. Hold in your hearts the people of this world who suffer from any fear of violence, oppression, and discrimination. Think about the people in your lives who need to be forgiven, and consider the ways in which you also need to be forgiven. I’ll say each line of the litany, and in response, we’ll say together, “Father forgive.”

Let us pray.   

All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

The hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class,
Father, forgive.

The covetous desires of people and nations to possess what is not their own,
Father, forgive.

The greed which exploits the work of human hands and lays waste the earth,
Father, forgive.

Our envy of the welfare and happiness of others,
Father, forgive.

Our indifference to the plight of the imprisoned, the homeless, the refugee,
Father, forgive.

The lust which dishonours the bodies of men, women and children,
Father, forgive.

The pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God,
Father, forgive.

Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Amen.