The Episcopal Church Welcomes You!

Friday, April 10, 2020

Post Parade



Good Friday; Isaiah 52:13-53:12; John 18:1-19:37; St. Paul’s, 4/10/2020
Jim Melnyk: “Post-Parade”

The parades are over and done with: the Peasant-King's rousing entry, and the Empire's deadly might.  On this cruel day it seems the Empire, as is its wont, has triumphed once again.  The Voice of the Voiceless who had proclaimed the coming reign of God, has been silenced with a cry: “My God, my God!  Why have you forsaken me?” 

Followers and friends, mother and siblings, have either fled or watch from a distance in sorrow, fear and anger.  Why does Good Friday happen?  Why the cross?  Whose will is this moment of pain and anguish?

Good Friday is a jarring, liturgical train wreck for so many Christians – one many modern day folk choose to turn away from or ignore.  And no wonder, we've mostly all grown up with ministers, priests, brothers and nuns, telling us that God sent Jesus to the cross because God needed payment for my sins and for your sins…

God's own child sacrificed to make right our guilty lives – as if bloodshed and anguish are needed to appease an angry and arbitrary God.  And despite homiletical interpretations to the contrary, our Prayer Book liturgy doesn't do a great job at dismissing this theology – or at offering equally compelling and ancient ways of understanding the crucifixion. 

Sister Joan Chittister, in her book, In Search of Belief, writes that we run into trouble “when we get confused about how Jesus got on that cross in the first place…. The reason we ascribe to the crucifixion can determine the rest of our own lives.  If we assume,” she continues, “ if we assume that the 'sacrifice' of Jesus [is meant] to appease an angry and insulted God,” if this is our “explanation for the crucifixion of [Jesus], then the spiritual life totters on the edge of becoming one long excursion into masochism.... It poisons life.  It turns God into a ghoulish keeper of human anthills.[1]

So, if God didn't “make” Jesus die because of our sin, what put Jesus on the cross?  Presiding Bishop Michael Curry has spoken many times about God’s dream as the “deep, profound hope of God colliding with an intractable reality of this world in a way that will bring about a new reality” – a reality called the kingdom – the communion of God.  He calls God’s dream – the promise of Easter – “an aperture of hope opening in the harsh nightmare reality of this world.”

Good Friday is an all-too-real expression of that harsh nightmare reality that collides with the deep, profound hope of God.  Good Friday is brought about by the nearly overwhelming brokenness of this world; and for at least a brief moment of time – two long nights and portions of three brutal days, the harsh nightmare of this world’s reality seems to win.  
God's call for justice, for mercy and for love go unheard or unheeded by humanity, and so bring about the death of Jesus. 

Chittister writes, “The refusal of the human community to tolerate the reign of God here and now made the cross inevitable.  The divine values that Jesus embodied, the cosmic vision for the world that Jesus proclaimed, the pinnacles of human development that Jesus made plain day after dusty day from the byways of Galilee to the top of the Mount of Beatitudes – love, mercy, peace, and justice – these are the principles that put Jesus on the cross.  These cost.  These accuse.”[2]

Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, writing in their book, The Last Week, ask, “Was the death of Jesus the will of God?  No,” they respond.  “It is never the will of God that a righteous man be crucified.  Did it have to happen?” they ask.  On one level we might say it could have turned out differently. 

Judas could have refused to betray.  The Temple authorities might have chosen a different course of action.  Pilate could have repented of his sadistic violent streak, or could have at least paid heed to his wife’s dream.[3]

But in the end, Borg and Crossan agree with Sister Chittister.  “...The execution of Jesus was virtually inevitable.  Not because of divine necessity, but because of human inevitability....  But,” writes Borg and Crossan, “Jesus was not simply an unfortunate victim of a domination system's brutality.  He was also a protagonist filled with passion.  His passion, his message, was about the kingdom of God,” and it was his passion for God and for God's people; it was his cry for justice, his sense of the deep, profound hope of God, it was his dream of compassion and mercy, “that got him killed.”[4]
“Love, mercy, peace, and justice” – these are the values to which we are called as followers of Christ crucified, “and they are no more acceptable [a calling] now [in the eyes of the powerful] than [when Jesus stood before Pilate.]”[5] Just consider the polarized debates throughout society and the church over the past decades, if not the past two millennia.  Even a simple laundry list of how we find ways to ignore love, to ignore mercy, to ignore peace and justice – well, even a simple laundry list could fill a page – could fill a whole service.

On Palm Sunday we celebrated the Triumphal entry of Jesus, peasant-preacher, prophet, and Son of David. There was most likely a second parade that day – a parade celebrating the power of Empire as Pilate and his imperial troops entered Jerusalem as well – with the empire’s flags flying overhead and banners proclaiming the Emperor as son of the gods. 

This was Rome's attempt to enforce an uneasy peace while the population of Jerusalem swelled from its normal demographic of 40,000 or so people to nearly 250,000. This day we recall a third parade – or perhaps a mockery of a parade.  Jesus walks the Way of the Cross.  Today we are invited to walk once more with Jesus; to meditate on the powers of this world that would corrupt and destroy the love of God; and to remember the wondrous love of God in Christ. 

“The cross of Christ is the call to our hearts that reminds us that nothing ushers in the dawn of God except [our] living it.... When Jesus said, 'follow me,' Jesus was really saying that salvation is incomplete until it lives in us – [until we find ourselves transformed into the likeness of Christ, becoming his hands, his feet, his face, and his heart in this world.”[6] And as Sister Joan Chittister reminds us, such a commitment costs us. Such a commitment accuses us of standing against the power of empire – accuses us of standing alongside the Christ of God.  

And so this day we stand in the presence of love so great that even the face of death could not stay its course.  For now, we stand with Jesus who says “no one takes my life from me, but I lay it down willingly.”  This is Jesus – “the heart of God made flesh.[7]” This is Jesus – who is the revelation of God, and who shows us the face of God.  This is Jesus, whose very death means life.  This is Jesus, who even as he breathes his last breath proclaims, “God is…God is…God is!”  Amen.


[1] Joan Chittister
[2] ibid
[3] Marcus Borg and John Dominick Crossan, The Last Week, Harper, San Fransico
[4] ibid
[5] Chittister
[6] Chittister
[7] Henri Nouwen, quoted by Borg and Crossan

No comments:

Post a Comment