Retracing the Story--An Unequal Exchange

When I was around 10 years old or so we lived in a great neighborhood with many kids. We always had plenty of kids for a football game, complex bicycle stunt shows, or the latest club we had schemed up that week. Our street sloped up a hill and at the top of the hill was Mr. Barber’s yard. He had about 5 acres of neatly mown lawn. All the neighborhood kids were welcome to play in his yard. It was the center of all our childhood devices. Next to the open land was a small stand of woods. There we made forts and defended our neighborhood from imaginary raiders—as soon as school was out, of course.
My friend Pete’s parents were remodeling parts of their house and his dad gave us the old medicine cabinet, sink base cabinet and other cool things for a new fort in the woods. We took great pride in hauling all that stuff down the hill. We had a great fort. It was the envy of any group of kids in the whole town. After just a few short weeks, our fort was destroyed and defaced. Someone had broken all of our things and written horrible things on them. We were crushed.
In my anger I rallied the “gang” against John. John didn’t live on our street. He lived a few houses down on a connecting street. He was something of an outsider in the tight-knit group of our street. Obviously, in my warped logic, John was to blame because he wasn’t in our group right now. He must have been mad about it and destroyed our beloved fort.
John’s dad confronted me on his behalf about my accusations. I was stunned. My bluff had been called and my baseless claims were exposed. I apologized to John, but I had done damage that I don’t think I was ever undone.
Looking back, blaming John really didn’t make any sense, it was just convenient. Our little woods backed up to the fence of the Middle School. It is quite possible that someone from the school saw our hideaway and did the damage. But I wanted someone to blame—and John was nearby. The other neighborhood kids jumped on the bandwagon of blame. John was an unequal exchange—the scapegoat for crimes he didn’t commit.
This week I begin a series of sermons on “Retracing the Story” of Jesus. We begin with “An Unequal Exchange.” In my story, John didn’t bear the punishment of the crime, but we sure tried. Jesus did bear the punishment—for crimes he didn’t commit. Would you retrace the story with me? You see I want to tell John I’m sorry—and I don’t want to make such an exchange again. But I hear the crowds in Jerusalem shouting, “Punish Him! Punish Him!” And the answer is, “But he didn’t do anything.” The crowd shouts only louder, “Punish Him!” And the innocent is exchanged…and equality is mocked.