Hebrews 5:5-10; John 12:20-33

When the writers of The Letter to the Hebrews sat down to get their thoughts together, it seems that one of their primary concerns was the authority of Jesus. Hebrews was probably written around the year 65 CE and was intended for Christ-worshippers in Rome, addressing issues around who Jesus was and why these writers felt confident to make the claims about him that they did. They also sought to answer questions about what the point was of Jesus’ life and ministry, and to clarify what Jesus had accomplished. The Roman Empire continued to occupy Jerusalem: God had not delivered the Israelites from oppression, and the temple continued to function for Judaism as it had done since the days of Ezra. So, how can the Jewish Messiah have come but nothing has changed? Who was Jesus? This is what the authors of Hebrews try to tell us.

In today’s passage we are told quite plainly that the work of Jesus as high priest was authorised by God. Jesus had not appointed himself divine intermediary, nor had he stolen the role from any Levitical clansmen or the son of a hereditary priest in Jerusalem. Furthermore the evidence that Jesus was authorised by God is plain because he did the work of a priest properly, praying and interceding while he was alive. Jesus prayed with confidence, knowing The Father and knowing The Father’s capability and The Father’s will. Jesus asked God to do only what God wanted done: Jesus was qualified to be high priest because Jesus was faithful to God.

But this is only part of the answer, and Hebrews 5:8-9 speaks of Jesus’ life on earth as a time of struggle and of learning. As God the Son, and the Son of God, life in God’s creation might have been cushy for Jesus: descending from a cloud and floating about Creation he could have kept himself clean and dry by not touching anything or being touched by anyone. But that’s not how Jesus came and that’s not how he lived: Jesus was qualified to be high priest because Jesus was faithful to humanity.

Jesus was born in the part of the house where the animals were kept. Despite what you’ve heard about that cosy manger I have no doubt that little lord Jesus loud crying did make; and probably lots of times afterwards. Jesus grew up in an ordinary village in an ordinary family where his tradesman father taught Jesus his trade. Jesus was the Son of God, but when he was apprenticed to his father to learn the family business he matured into a fitter and joiner, not as the divine and sovereign creator. Jesus’ feet got dirty; we know that because a woman washed them. Jesus got tired; we know that because he fell asleep in the boat. Jesus got hungry, we know that because the satan was able to tempt him with food, even though Jesus resisted the temptation. Jesus got lonely, we know that because he cried out that even God had forsaken him, twelve hours after his friends couldn’t remain awake for even an hour. It’s never mentioned but I am sure that Jesus must have relieved himself at times, perhaps having to hold it in, perhaps having to “nip off” in a hurry. I am sure Jesus got sick, and I imagine that Mary had to cuddle him and wipe him down and kiss it better when he was small. Jesus was a tradesman, traditionally described as a carpenter it’s likely that he was a stonemason and a builder alongside that: so, did he never hit his thumb with a hammer, or catch his fingers on a saw blade? Will anyone suggest that Jesus never got a splinter from the wood, or a stone chip? Did he never trip over, never stub a toe? Did he never bang his head on a low door or overhanging branch? Did he never drop something on his foot, or get dust in his eye? Did he never step in animal poo? Jesus learned what it was like to live on earth as a person: baby, toddler, child, teen, youth, and man. Jesus was made complete and perfect we read in Hebrews 5:9 in that he experienced all that there was to experience as an adult Galilean Jew in Roman-occupied Judea. Jesus lived the whole picture and he learned the full story of humankind in action. God The Son had first-hand experience of the world in its fallen state, and he grieved with God The Father over what had been lost and over what had become of that wondrously good Eden that God had made.

So, the fully human Jesus got dirty and smelly and hurt and tired at times. Of course he also had friends and family so I am sure he laughed quite a bit too:  Jesus experienced joy and love and companionship, he was not only a man of sorrows. Jesus ate and drank, so he probably spewed and pooed too. And the fully divine Jesus grieved for the world, but he also rejoiced in the company of the worshippers of God and in the news of their devotion and godliness where he experienced it. Not that he desired worship for himself, but that he experienced God being worshipped by his companions in the room, and that delighted him as the Son of God among women and men praising their Creator.

All of that is true and meaningful; but what carries the most weight, at least as I see it, is what we read in Hebrews 5:7, that Jesus experienced fear. Jesus got scared and Jesus drew back momentarily from the monstrosity of the cross. What makes Jesus the best high priest, allowing for all that I have said about his being chosen by God rather than taking the mantle upon himself, and that he lived a human life of dirt and fun, and that his spirit grieved at the fallenness of Creation, what makes him the actual best is that he saw how ugly the cross was going to be and he called a pause. Gethsemane is no secret to us, and apparently it was no secret to the writers of Hebrews 5:7 that Jesus pleaded in cries and tears for God to use any other way to complete the work, anything else than the brutality of God’s Friday. This is a man, a human; a flesh and bones and blood and sensory neurones person; a man who knows that what is coming is going to bring worlds of hurt to his body, mind, soul, and spirit. This is a man just like us, this is the one God chose to do this great work; not an angel, not an alien, not a golem, not even a quadriplegic with no sense of pain below the neck, but a fit and wise thirty-three year old bloke.

And Jesus knew it was coming, well beforehand, because one day Philip and Andrew brought Gentiles to meet him. The greatest act of service of a seed is that it dies, anonymously and underground, to cause a new tree with thousands of new seeds to grow in that place. Jesus’ death was neither anonymous nor underground, but it was his great act of service, and his life’s end brought about the beginning of billions of lives in every land on the planet. With the request of these Greeks for an introduction Jesus knew that the time to embark upon his greatest service was at hand, and Jesus’ response to the coming moment, as John 12:27 tells us, was that he was troubled. He knew that the cross would break him, it would kill his body and it would take his mind and spirit beyond the limits of human capability. And Jesus knew that in the event and aftermath of the cross that his disciples, his mates, would be broken by confusion, grief and doubt. Yet he still went through with the whole plan, even after taking a time-out to get his head around everything in the finest detail.

Jesus knows our every pain and weakness because he has been there, been “here” in fact. Jesus knows every pain and weakness of The Father; he has been there too. This is what makes Jesus the greatest of great high priests: the ultimate and unsurpassable intermediary between Holy God and Fallen Creation has priested the ritual and brought shalom to the lost from both ends of the act.

So, what does this mean for us? I see two outcomes of this message, two things we can do with this revelation of who Jesus is regarding this special role of intercessor and advocate.

We take courage. Jesus to whom we pray, and through whom we pray to The Father, knows what it is like down here and he understands. Jesus will never call you a wimp or deride you as unfaithful and unworthy of him when the thought of pain and suffering causes you to pause. He gets it, he paused too, and then he went on. If he went on alone, then you or I can go on with him beside us. Whatever God is calling you to, or whatever life has thrown up in your path, Jesus knows about it and wants you to do well. Maybe it is public speaking and evangelism, maybe it is standing up for the oppressed or the dispossessed where you work or live; maybe it is a mozzie bite, or some dog poo on your shoe in the moment. No human experience, no make-or-break call to disciplined action, is below Jesus’ attention or above Jesus’ capacity to support you.
We worship. Last month you heard, the story of the Transfiguration and of how Jesus was glorified by God in the presence of Moses and Elijah, and Peter, James and John. This same Jesus is he whom we have killed; the transfigured one is also the crucified one. We need not be afraid of Jesus, he loves us, and his death is the ultimate act of love for us; nonetheless the Fear of The LORD, our great regard and honour for who Jesus is as Son of God, should drive us to our knees or faces, or maybe to our feet with our hands aloft. But we can’t just sit there, indifferent, any longer.

Jesus was afraid to die for us, that is how we know he was human and that is how we know that he loves us.  He understands pain. Nonetheless Jesus died painfully and miserably alone for us. We may be afraid to live for him, after all we are human, but he knows this and he knows that we love him imperfectly. He understands the threat we may be inviting; discipleship is not easy.  Nonetheless we live for him, and when we live for him we live with him beside us.  Amen.