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Of Goats and Fireworks

Leviticus 16:1-10; 20-22, John 14:23-27

A sermon by Hans vanNie at EMUC, 5/20/2001

This is Victoria Day weekend, fireworks weekend, and indeed here at Erin Mills United Church we are going to shoot off some fireworks tonight. Now, I have to admit that I was surprised at first when I heard that a church would shoot off fireworks. But when I found out what it was all about it started to make some sense. We have fun as a community and we invite everyone in the neighbourhoods around us to join us for the evening festivities. That’s a great way to let the community know who we are and to welcome them into our midst. Apart from the fun, the fireworks event is a fundraiser as well. So I guess we have good reason to shoot off those fireworks tonight. But, you know, I can’t just leave it at that. I’ve spent many years in university studying religion and theology and so it is hard for me not to see something religious in everything I come across. And surely, there’s got to be some religion in those fireworks as well. Personally, I know very little about fireworks, but I remembered that they have some history in Asia. So I asked someone from Asia this week, what fireworks were all about. I asked SangRok Choi, the pastor of the Korean congregation that meets here on Sunday afternoons. SangRok, being a preacher, and speaking to a preacher, said, “Fireworks are like Azazel.” And I knew immediately what he meant. So therefore, on this Sunday when we are shooting off fireworks, we have read in our scripture readings the story of Azazel.

The sixteenth chapter of the book of Leviticus describes the most holy day in the year for the people of Israel, Yom Kippur. It is still celebrated today. Yom Kippur is the great day of cleansing; it involves the confession of sin, all the sins that have been committed by individuals and by the community. Those sins are confessed, they are dealt with, they are sent into the wilderness. In ancient times, the people of Israel took a goat on Yom Kippur and symbolically placed all their sins on that goat and sent the goat into the wilderness, to Azazel, to oblivion. The goat itself was also referred to as Azazel, which is translated into English as “scapegoat.”

By now you will know what those fireworks are for, at least in China and its neighbouring countries. Those fireworks take the sins of the people and shoot them into oblivion in a blaze of glory. So you can imagine that the community will gather tonight on the sacred property of Erin Mills United Church for a great cleansing ritual as we shoot our sins into the wild blue yonder while we chant together, “Oooooh... Aaaaah... Azazel!”

Since we have begun a little exploration of theology and the remission of sin, why don’t we go all the way and see where the idea finally ends up in the tradition of the bible and in Christian thought? In the end, Jesus becomes the scapegoat, although we use the language of “sheep” for Jesus instead of the goat. So Jesus becomes the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. That is one of the very basic building blocks of the Christian faith. Since the very early days of Christianity, during the communion service, just before receiving the elements, the congregation would say, “O Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us. O Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, grant us your peace.” The traditional theology of the church sees Jesus as the scapegoat on the cross. Jesus takes all of our sins unto himself on the cross and on into oblivion. Jesus died, and as the Apostles’ Creed says, “he descended into hell.” And there in hell, Jesus unloads all of those damned sins and dumps them into the lake of eternal fire(works). Jesus died for the sins of the world.

You and me, we aren’t going to go into that god-forsaken desert to dump off our sins. We wouldn’t survive the journey. Let the scapegoat do the job and die out there in the wilderness. You and me, we aren’t going to go to hell to dump off our sins where they belong. We wouldn’t survive the journey. But, thanks be to God, this work of salvation has been done for us by Jesus Christ, who died that we might be forgiven.

Some of you will be thinking that I have joined the ranks of the television evangelists who preach the gospel using the sort of language that I am using in this sermon. In the United Church of Canada we are a bit more subtle, we don’t believe in the eternal fires of hell and we are careful about scapegoat theology lest we forget the responsibility all of us have for the sins we commit. But still, the good news of the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world is a gospel which stands at the centre of our faith. It is a crucial piece of theology, and I do mean “crucial” which means literally “of the cross.”

At the centre of our faith stands a cross which has been left behind by Jesus in order to proclaim that no sin is so big that it cannot be left behind, as the cross was left behind, in favour of a new life where those old sins have no more power. Without some sort of redemption, our old sins have plenty of power. Sometimes we are paralysed by our wrongdoings. We can carry guilt and regret along with us for years. Worst of all is the curse which comes with denial, when on the surface we convince ourselves that there is nothing wrong, but deep inside us the essence of who we are is rotting away.

That is why human beings have found ways to go through some sort of regular cleansing, weekly for the little sins, yearly for the big ones. Send the goat into the desert; shoot the fireworks into oblivion. Such ritualistic cleansing is an unburdening of bad stuff that has to be let go. And for Christians, ultimately we do offer that bad stuff to Jesus. We know that we can trust Jesus with our whole selves, the good and the bad. And we have a strong sense that if anyone could get rid of the bad stuff for us, surely that one would be Jesus. Then when we do offer the bad stuff to Jesus, there is something given to us. Let us hear the “Agnus Dei” from the communion service again. “O Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world have mercy on us. O Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, grant us your peace.” When we can rid ourselves of the bad stuff, we are ready for the wonderful gift of the Spirit of Christ, the gift of peace. This is the gift that we crave more than any other. It is the gift we wish each other every Sunday in worship. “The peace of Christ be with you. And also with you.” Our gospel reading today contains some of the last words of Jesus to the disciples before the crucifixion. “Peace I leave with you.” says Jesus, “My peace I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid.”

After we shoot off those fireworks tonight, there ought to be a moment of peace. Perhaps it will come after the flashing and banging of the explosions, when all the bad stuff has been shot to hell, or to be more polite, to Azazel. Perhaps the fireworks will be a religious ritual after all; and if not, at least we will have thought about the possibilities. In any case, give it some thought. And if you come this evening to join the fun, it will be OK if you bring along a nasty bit of yourself and symbolically shoot it into the night sky. Then may there be peace, a peace that passes all understanding, a peace that is the peace of Christ. Thanks be to God. Amen