Sermon – Everything is Fine

(I preached this sermon in response to John 19:1-16a at Christ Lutheran Church in Harrisburg, PA. You can listen to the sermon at this link – https://christlutheranharrisburg.podbean.com/e/fine/)

Everything is fine.

That’s the façade we are shown.
That’s what we are told.
That’s what those in charge repeat.

Everything is fine. Except it isn’t.

Because in this story in the Gospel of John nothing is what it appears to be.

We see an innocent man sentenced, and no one stops it.
We see a crowd convinced it is doing the right thing.
We see leaders with authority who cannot actually lead.
We see violence justified as necessary.
We see an entire arrangement of power that only works if someone is disposable.

This is not just a story. It is a mirror.

And the question is not whether we understand it.
The question is whether we are willing to look.

So, let’s look.

Pontius Pilate knows the truth. He says it out loud: “I find no case against him.” He knows Jesus is innocent. And then he does nothing with that truth.

Because truth without courage is useless.  

Pilate looks powerful.
He stands on the platform.
He represents Rome.

But watch him closely. He is afraid.

Afraid of the crowd.
Afraid of the chief priests.
Afraid of the empire above him.
Afraid of losing his position.

He looks powerful. But he is completely controlled by fear.

And the crowd: They believe they are choosing justice. But they are being carried along by something deeper: a current of anger they do not understand.

Pain has turned into rage. And rage is looking for somewhere to land. So, it lands on Jesus.

And the chief priests – Let’s be clear.  This is not survival.

They have learned how to work the arrangement to their advantage.

They know how to stay close to power.
They know how to protect their status.
They know how to benefit even if it costs others everything.

They are not caught in something unfortunate. They are helping hold it in place.

They are shaping a reality where some lives are protected and others are expendable, so long as they remain secure.

And the soldiers—They mock him. They beat him. They humiliate him.

Because when you feel small, cruelty can feel like strength.

No one looks good in this story. No one.

Which means that if this is a mirror, we might not look so good either.

This story exposes something we resist. The people in charge are not really in charge.

What looks solid is actually fragile. What looks like control is often just fear holding everything together.

And Jesus names it.

He says to Pilate: “You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above.”

You think you are holding this together. But you are not.

This whole arrangement, this way of ordering the world, is already cracking.

It only works as long as fear keeps everyone playing their part.

And then there is Jesus.

He does something no one expects.

He does not fight. He does not argue. He does not try to win. He just stands there.

Silent. Present. Unmoved.

And in his presence, everything is revealed.

Pilate sees his fear. The crowd sees its violence. The chief priests see their exploitation. The soldiers see their cruelty.

Jesus is not controlling what is happening. He is exposing it.

He is a mirror they cannot stand to look into. He refuses to play along. He refuses to absorb their chaos. He refuses to pretend this is normal.

He shows them who they are.  And they cannot bear it.

We should not be surprised. We have seen this before.

We saw it in the Civil War.  We saw it in World War I. We saw it in World War II. We saw it in Vietnam. We saw it in the multiple wars in the Middle East that we have engaged in. 

And we are seeing it right now.

We are told everything is fine—while people are drowning under the cost of simply staying alive.

We are told the economy is strong—while families choose between food, rent, and medicine.

We are told leaders are working for the people—while decisions are shaped by money, influence, and fear.

We are told violence will bring peace—while it only creates more grief, more trauma, more death, more destruction.

We are told who to fear, who to blame, who to reject—so we don’t notice what is actually happening.

We are told distorted versions of the gospel—where power is baptized, domination is justified, and Jesus is remade in the image of empire and wrapped in the flag.

Nothing is quite what it appears to be. And deep down we know it.

So, what is the good news?

Because if all of this is being exposed, then the good news must be exposed too.

And here it is: Jesus does not become like them. He does not enter into their way of ordering the world.

He does not return violence.
He does not grasp for control.
He does not bend to fear.

And because of that none of it gets the final word.

Not our politics.
Not our ideologies.
Not our leaders.
Not our economic realities.
Not rising costs that crush people.
Not war.
Not fear.
Not propaganda.
Not even religious voices that trade the gospel for power.

None of it gets the final word.

Because the cross does not expose Jesus. The cross exposes everything else.

It shows the truth about the way we organize power, the way we justify harm, the way we make people disposable.

And history tells us that it never lasts. It cannot. Because it is built on fear, not truth.

So what is the good news?

The good news is shalom.

Not just a word.
Not just a greeting.

Shalom is the way of peace.
Shalom is wholeness.
Shalom is the fullness of life as God intends it.

Shalom is what Jesus was talking about when he spoke of the kingdom of God. Shalom is what God has been up to all along.

Right relationship.
Love of enemy.
Care for the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized.
Healing for the sick.
Restoration for broken communities.
Relief from crushing debt.
Freedom for those in bondage.
Welcome for the stranger.
Food for the hungry.

This is not abstract. This is concrete. This is lived.

And this is who Jesus is. Jesus is shalom in the flesh.

Standing in the middle of violence and refusing to become it.

Standing in the middle of fear and refusing to spread it.

Standing in the middle of distortion and revealing what is true.

So the question is not:

Who is right?

The question is: When we look into this mirror what do we see?

And when we see it will we look away?

Will we distract ourselves?
Will we justify it?
Will we keep playing our part?

Or

Will we tell the truth?

Will we follow Jesus
out of fear
out of distortion
out of the lie and into shalom?

Because the world built on fear, violence, and control will always collapse.

But the one standing in the middle of it—

That is where the truth is. That is where God is. That is where shalom is.

And his way

Not the way of domination, not the way of fear

His way is the only way that leads to life.

Thanks be to God.