Romans 3:21-26
Sermon preached at Barclay Church, Edinburgh by Dr Fiona J. Tweedie
29 June 2003

CHOICE
The world we live in today is full of choice - in supermarkets we have a bewildering array of choice – from foods from around the world in all seasons to new varieties of crisp, chips – straight, curly, thick, pizza – thin, thick, stonebaked, deep pan - ham and pineapple, pepperoni, chicken salsa, and if you don't like any of those you can have your personal pizza made up at the pizza counter; and why buy a pre-packaged salad when you can design your own at the salad bar?

Why stop at food? When we buy clothes we can now have our jeans, or even our trainers custom made to fit. Our cars – colour, size, sun roof, CD player, security features, a myriad of combinations to make it our personal car.

I want choice because I'm different – I need individual attention – my personal trainer, personal life coach – personal driver – personal shopper. Not having a personal shopper, I went to Tesco a few weeks ago and on the way in noticed an advert for Nivea make-up products - "Different wipes, because you're different".

Now “different” can mean many things; in a negative sense it excludes people - “Don't invite him – he's different” “Don't talk to her – she's different” “Don't let them into our country – they're different” But “different”, and I'm sure this is the meaning that Nivea would like you to take, can also mean distinctive, special, standing out, not run of the mill, or ordinary.

Later that week, not having my personal driver, I went to collect someone from Haymarket station and found myself staring at another advert proclaiming “L'Oreal – because you're worth it!”

“You're different” “You're worthy” These are the mantras of our postmodern society – everyone is screaming “I'm important”, “I'm worthy”. As the film American Beauty has it “Who want's to be ordinary?” Yet we all want to be part of the “team” Wear the same brand, watch the same programmes – individuals, yet part of the group: special, yet not outcasts.

DIED FOR YOU
But let's turn the clock back 60 years. The Second World War is raging and a prisoner has escaped from Auschwitz. Punishment has been declared, the prisoners are assembled, to be informed of their fate. Ten prisoners will die for the one that escaped. Nine are chosen, then the footsteps stop in front of Francis Gajowniczek. He cries out in despair “My wife, my children!”. Incredibly, another man steps out of the line. The guards turn, “What do you want?” “I want to go in his place” Father Maximilian Kolbe was a Catholic priest, older, he claimed to have nothing; Francis Gajowniczek had a wife and children. The guards went along with the strange request; nine men and one priest were taken to the starvation bunker and left to die.

Francis Gajowniczek survived the prison camp, survived the war and forty years later stood with his wife, his children and his grandchildren as the Pope honoured Father Kolbe. Francis was different, worthy, special – someone had died for him. Just think of it, all the things he'd have to do in his life to make up for someone else dying for him. He'd have to be a really good example – help others, live a full life.

And yet that is EXACTLY what we are about to commemorate here today. In choosing to die on the cross, Jesus substituted himself for you, for me. You are different, you are special, you are worth it – someone has died for you, so that you can live and go on living, so that you can enjoy all the great things that life has to offer.

SACRIFICE
Back in Old Testament Egypt, to escape the coming plague, the Hebrews were told to sacrifice a lamb, to mark the door frames of the houses they ate in so that the Spirit of the Lord would pass over them. They were told to take a year-old male lamb without defect, not one of the sick-looking, not the one with the squint ear, not the one with the lame back leg, but the best lamb in the flock. That was how important this sacrifice was – God didn't want the runt of the flock – he demanded the best.

The Israelites were commanded to keep Passover as a feast each year, to remember the deliverance from Egypt. The book of Leviticus is devoted to the laws for the people of Israel, what to sacrifice, when to sacrifice, how to sacrifice. What to sacrifice for what you've done, when to sacrifice for what you've not done, how to sacrifice for what you haven't noticed you've done, or not done. But the people couldn't keep the laws, they couldn't make all the sacrifices. The blood of animals wasn't enough to purify the people. The offerings had to be made again and again, year in, year out. All those sacrifices.... all those bodies, all that blood...

Until Jesus. He came to be the final sacrifice, a sacrifice of atonement. To be the sacrifice for what we've done, for what we've not done, for what we're going to do, for what we're not going to do, what we've noticed, for what we've not noticed. To be the sacrifice for everything – all of it. One body, his blood.

When we talk about sacrifice today, we don't usually mean sheep, goats, knives, blood, screams. For us when we talk about sacrifice, we might be referring to a politician – Claire Short has sacrificed her career over the war in Iraq, Alan Milburn has sacrificed his cabinet post for his family. Our parents made sacrifices for us; we make sacrifices for our families. All very sanitised, no knives, no blood, no screams.

Returning to the story of Francis Gajowniczek, you might be saying to yourself, “The priest, Father Kolbe, he didn't matter so much - he had no one to miss him, no one to support, Francis had a family to miss him, a family depending on his support - that's OK, the priest was less important, if someone had to die, it's better that it was him, it was all right for him to choose to die, to choose to be the sacrifice.

But the sacrifice given for you and for me wasn't just some poor, beaten-up, Palestinian peasant with no family - Jesus was holy, Jesus was divine, Jesus was quite simply the best human being that has ever, and will ever, live. He was perfect. And yet he chose to die. For you. He thinks you're special, He thinks you're worth it.

SALVATION
But why?

Why? The answer is simple. Love. Because God loves us. God is love, but God is also holy and just.

The world today is full of expectations – we must have the perfect life, perfect house, perfect car, perfect looks, perfect children, perfect job, all at the same time. But, I don't know anyone who meets those expectations. How can we meet the expectations of the world today? It seems impossible. On a good day we might manage quite a good life, the house isn't too messy, the day in the office wasn't too frantic, we even washed the car. 3 out of 6 isn't too bad is it?

God has expectations – he expected the Israelites to obey his laws. He got Moses to write them down very carefully, we can read them at the start of the Old Testament. How could they keep them all? Even if we look at the executive summary – the ten commandments – how do we fare? Didn't murder anyone yesterday, didn't steal anything this week, but was a I jealous? A friend's house, boss's car, neighbour's hairstyle? But God's expectations aren't an exam paper – it's not a case of “attempt 2 out of 3 questions”, or “3 out of six”, his expectations are the highest. He is holy – he is perfection, and demands it from us. But we're not perfect, we can never be perfect, and when we fail God's expectations, it's called sin. Things we've done, things we've not done, it's all sin. Big things, little things, it's all the same – sin.

God is holy, and God can't love our sin. It's like someone with a severe peanut allergy – they can't stand even a trace of peanut oil, they have to read the small print on the back of food labels, avoiding anything that has been in the same factory as a peanut - a stray nut will send them straight to Accident and Emergency for an adrenaline injection. Their body and peanuts, in any shape or form, are wholly incompatible.

God is love, but God is holy - For God to love us with our sin would stop God being holy. Our sin is a barrier to God's love. God can no more love our sin than someone with a peanut allergy can tuck in to a Snickers bar. The two are wholly incompatible.

God is love, but God is just. He wants to love us, he does love us, he longs to love us fully, but there is this incompatibility. We can't deal with it, we can't purify ourselves, wash away ALL traces of sin as though it were peanut oil, but God can, and God did. As we saw in the children's address, and read in Romans 3 - “a righteousness FROM God, apart from law, has been made known to which the law and the prophets testify.” He gave us a way to live up to his expectations.

God is just - he had to impose a punishment, a sacrifice, but then HE suffered the punishment, he did the sacrificing, Jesus was the sacrifice - verse 25 “God presented Christ Jesus as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood” Why? He did this to demonstrate his justice, so as to be just AND the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus. He did this so that we don't have to – so that the incompatibility is gone – wiped out - forever.

Why salvation? The answer is simple – God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son so that we might not perish but have everlasting life. He gave his son so that you could be with him – you are special, you are worth it.

CONCLUSIONS
We are about to remember this sacrifice through the Lord's Supper. In the quiet as communion is served, think about Jesus - you are worth it, you are special. God has suffered, Christ has died, so that he can meet you at this table

If you have never asked God into your life, asked him for his forgiveness, accepted his salvation, ask him now – he won't say No. If you have asked him before, many times before, ask him again to be in your life. His death, our salvation is what we remember here at his table, and when you are offered the bread and wine reach out, reach out for him, tear off a piece of salvation. God is offering it to you, all you have to do is reach for it.

Amen