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Based on the Scripture readings: |
2007 April 1 |
The Empire Struck Back
Hold this message in your mind as we re-hear the Palm Sunday story: Jesus didn't go to  Five years ago on Palm Sunday, I preached my first sermon here: a candidate's sermon, which ministers call "preach for your life." Based on your performance, a congregation votes to offer or withhold a call to ministry. Obviously there was a long journey to that moment, mostly out of view, that included conversations, planning, praying, vision, and references. One Sunday this search committee visited my church in Connecticut to watch me, and that day I opened my sermon by singing a song. At our next interview here, after my vocalization, Tom Fletcher asked the fist question, and he mentioned that event and said, "What were you thinking?" I appreciated this question for many reasons, not the least being that he believed that I had a plan and a purpose and a reason, which I did. This year, two of my favorite scholars, Marcus Borg and Dom Crossan, wrote a book about Palm Sunday and Holy Week that answers one central question: what was Jesus thinking? Therefore, why was Jesus killed? They say that we know the end of the story of crucifixion, but lots of us don't know the beginning and middle of the story from just before Palm Sunday through Friday. And to know that part reveals a huge amount about the conversations, planning, prayer, vision, and references of God's revelation. Recently we had a class on the Cross here, and I talked about five Biblical models for its meaning. A lot of us know one of them: that Jesus was executed, somehow, as a sacrificial offering for sin. Despite whatever Mel Gibson emphasizes, this is the least logical of the Biblical models, so ponder seven days of evidence, and bracket your assumptions to see what Mark and Luke emphasize. Indeed, very different from the idea of substitutionary atonement, where Jesus substitutes for something, Mark emphasizes a participatory theology, which means Jesus calls us to get involved in His passion procession Borg and Crossan say that if we want to understand Passion Week, we have to ask what Did Jesus celebrate Passover in Jerusalem every year, or was this His first visit? The Gospels disagree. But historians from beyond the Bible agree that Passover was riot time in Jerusalem, since it celebrated divine deliverance from the Egyptian empire during the Roman one. By the year 30, the year we study, Pontius Pilate regularly left his home and headquarters in Caesarea by the Sea and rode to his palace in Jerusalem with cavalry and troops to reinforce the locals until the holy day was passed. Every year he rode into town on a war horse, with his Roman flags flying and swords at hand, reminding the crowds that Caesar is Lord -- riding in from the west. Then in the year 30, the same day that Pilate rode in from the west, Jesus rode in from the east. With planning and preparation, He mounted a donkey, because Zechariah says that a donkey symbolizes banishing weapons and war and promoting peace. He organized garments to remind folks of Elisha and Jehu, the king who revolutionized his own contemporary times. He offered an alternative procession to Pilate's. Now, did He do this to get killed? Did he do this to sacrifice Himself? Well, the scriptures say He did it to confront Roman imperial power and religious collaboration with it. And the multitudes, say the Gospels, called Him king. The people were on His side. Early on in the Iraq war, President Bush told the world that we were either with him or we were against him. There was no grey and little interpretation. The most powerful empire on earth demanded what's been called patriotism, loyalty, and allegiance. We were asked to join the march from the west. Jesus comes into town from the east. And in a sense He presents the same challenge. There were two parades in Jerusalem. Folks had to choose. It wasn't easy then. It isn't easy now. But ponder the day by day witness of Jesus' journey, Sunday, He arrives in town, and He examines the temple, but there is no crowd, so He leaves, and Borg and Crossan point out that He will emphasize engaging and inspiring the crowds all week long. Monday, the people are back, so Jesus demonstrates against the temple. For 24 years, the chief priests have been appointed by the Romans, not voted by the congregation, and Jesus turns over tables and quotes Jeremiah calling it a den of robbers, which is not where they rob, but where they live. Yet Jesus isn't against the people, the masses, or the faith. He's against the empire. The safe house for healing has become a safe house for Herod. Tuesday, the conflicts with the temple authorities increase through argument and debate. The scriptures report that the multitudes are with Jesus, and even the authorities see, repeatedly, that the people believe Him. On Wednesday, the authorities give up. Have you noticed that? They give up. They literally say, don't try to arrest Him. There will be a riot. Public action would be dangerous. Jesus has won. Until late in the day. Something happens late in the day, and it is as simple and serious as a stroke. Judas makes them an offer they can't believe. On Thursday, Jesus eats supper with His disciples. And when the crowds are finally gone, and His friends sleep, then the most powerful empire on earth reveals its true nature. An extraordinary rendition is possible out of the people's view. Jesus is arrested in a dark operation. On Friday He is tried in private. What about that crowd that calls for Barabbas? What about the ones who say, "Crucify him?" Remember where they are? They are in Pilate's courtyard. You don't get in there unless you are a supporter, as in a private rally of screened sycophants. This is not a jury of peers or a reflection of public opinion. This is a "deportment" of justice. The Governor, the priest, and the traitor comprise the poisonous alchemy of church, state, and mercenaries. The empire's voice to crucify God drowns out the consensus and spirit of the multitudes, and the theology of participation hangs in the balance -- on the crossroads of two processions. Have you ever noticed that all the Gospels begin and end with processions? Matthew has the Magi, Mark the people following John the Baptist, Luke has Mary travel to Elizabeth, and John has Jesus speak His first words as folks follow him and He asks, "What do you seek?" Have you ever pondered that today's Gospel, Luke, begins with the temptation to turn stones to bread, take power on the earth, and perform spectacular feats, and then it ends with Jesus breaking bread, asking his followers to put away the sword, and giving up His clothes in a spectacle of nakedness? The story of this week brings full circle all Jesus' passions and processions. It recalls His announcement that the Kingdom of God is at hand, that He brings good news to the poor and oppressed and a revolution in our realm. The world, sometimes said to be in the devil's hands, is being pried away from the empire, bit by bit by bit. Jesus' passion isn't about the invocation of an ancient rite of sacrifice but a frighteningly contemporary revelation of danger and distorted allegiance. Bill Coffin once said, "God is not too hard to believe. God is too good to believe." God is displaying good news here, even in the darkest, most despairing times. Jesus wanted people of faith to come unstuck from the empire. Caesar's picture was on the coins. But God's image is in our being. Don't give yourself to the empire. You are savvy and wise enough to know the dangers of empire in our day. Economic systems that feed the wealthy and starve the poor. Consumer choices that make us think there is no way to drive differently, heat differently, or love the planet, and that we are stuck. Political claims that the way of war is the only way, and all marches must proceed from the west. Cultural claims that the way of heterosexuality is the only way, and all families must proceed to its altar. Since the beginning of Luke, empire has been associated with evil and has been the source of consistent lies. But the multitudes, savvy themselves, understood Jesus' way, even the way of sacrifice, as God's way. It has been a tough Lent around Greater Boston. Repeated teen suicide in Wellesley. Repeated teen homicide in Dorchester. Four years of war. Four-fold increase in home foreclosures. Injury and illness. Divorce, death, and depression. Climate change. And Newton is as safe and fortunate as any city in the empire. Yet our world is broken. But the story doesn't end this day, this week. On this day we remember that Jesus confronted the principalities and powers on behalf of God's good news. And we can, too. We can choose our direction for how to enter and whom to follow. Amen. http://www.nhcc.net/sermons/Sermon20070401.htm |
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