|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Isaiah
50:4–9a
|
Psalm 31:916 |
Philippians 2:5–11 |
Luke 23:1–49 |
Passover in Jerusalem can occur in beautiful spring weather. As the pilgrims come into the city, garlands of spring wildflowers often line the road. A slight breeze cools the bright sun, and the moisture in the morning air smells clean and fresh. Even far off in the distance, the walls of the city glisten.
Yet, like for most of Jerusalem’s history, Passover in the time of Jesus was hardly calm and bucolic. Some in the crowds of pilgrims brought with them deep resentment against Roman rule and prevailing general corruption. Certain others just carried an anger that had potential to erupt for any reason at any time. As the pilgrims were filling the city, military reinforcements and informants were entering, too. Passover made the authorities nervous and on edge. Suspicion, fear of rebellion, and memories of oppression, all mingled with those who came with a pious hope for a better world.
Jesus and his disciples entered Jerusalem as pilgrims, and people around them seemed to welcome and support him. Many had heard of Jesus’ signs, wonderful signs of healing and compassion, not threats or warnings of recrimination. Jesus seemed to bring good news, not bad news. Some of the pilgrims probably heard Jesus preach the Sermon on the Mount, or were in the crowd when Jesus fed them from a small boy’s basket containing a few loaves and a couple of fish. Jesus welcomed outcasts, lepers, and even young children and some were likely those Jesus had welcomed in his travels around Galilee. Jesus understood their suffering and called out the best within them. Therefore, it was natural to wave palms in his path, and smile a greeting as he rode along.
Make no mistake about it; it wasn’t the majority of ordinary Passover pilgrims who were hostile or a short time later suddenly turned on Jesus. The contemporary scholars Marcus Borg and John Crossan rightfully point out that Mel Gibson’s film “The Passion of the Christ” is so dangerous and misleading because the film only concentrates on a small part of Holy Week and anyone who doesn’t know much about the Gospels can easily get the impression that it was the crowds who went after Jesus.1 Quite the contrary, the crowds, be it on the way into Jerusalem or even in the Temple courtyard, protected Jesus. The authorities were afraid to arrest Jesus when he was in public for fear of the crowds. It was only after Judas presumably told when Jesus and the disciples would be alone in a secluded location that soldiers were sent out to arrest him. When Jesus was in front of Pilate it was the authorities that had to stir up stooges to denounce Jesus and ask for Barrabas.
Jesus wore the mantle of a long line of the prophets, who came before him, and was a living reminder that God’s mission of blessing to all nations was not to be ultimately thwarted. Jesus refused to make God’s mission of redemption and reconciliation subservient to the authority and prestige of worldly power. Saying, “Render to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God,” is what got Jesus in trouble. Claiming “God desires no outcasts or scapegoats” or asking, “ Who is your neighbor?” is what threatened the authorities of the empire. The Gospel held the potential to raise people to a new life, to instill hope in people who were oppressed and vilified, to heal and to raise those whom the world tried hard to wound and beat down. What would it mean if all victims of the world were liberated? How would a world full of justice and free of exploitation operate? The threat of such a change is what put Jesus on the road to the cross.
That is why, in some way, despite all its many faults, we can be proud of the American Episcopal Church these days. It has taken a stand against blanket vilification of certain people, and because of that, there are worldwide forces that wish to kill it. These forces are mostly those who hold and grasp for power and don’t want to ever let go. They wish to coerce others into never questioning and always submitting to all their interpretations of definitions of reality. By and large it isn’t the common people who are so threatened and upset. You can be proud of the Episcopal Church these days, because it is not shrinking from its mission of healing and reconciliation. Despite all the threats, the church is going forward, not backward. It is marching with its cross, and that’s precisely what it should be doing.
Oh yes, like many in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, we acquiesce to power too easily and often lack the courage to stand up to the claims of those who set themselves up as gods of ultimate judgment in the place of the one true God. In too many instances, we stand by rather than standing up. We remain silent rather than acclaiming the truth.
That is why every Sunday before Holy Week, we enter with a procession announcing the arrival of Jesus among us. “Hosanna” we shout. Even stones seem to join the chorus. Then the story of the passion is always read. In the brief silence that follows we are asked, “Whom do we march with this week? With whom do we stick? Do we stand up or just stand by?”
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
1 I am indebted to Borg and Crossan’s article “Collision Course” in the March 20 issue of the Christian Century for some insights in this sermon. I am reading their book The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’ Final Week (Harper: San Francisco, 2006) and finding it a good read.
