Another item for my to-do list: teach the youngsters historical criticism
Mon, Apr 29 2013 09:54
| Permalink
Mike Bird says pastors like me need to teach our young people historical criticism. Mike is a New Testament scholar and he's not alone. The brilliant preacher Barbara Brown Taylor has made the same point.
Historical Criticism is the science of reading texts in light of their historic, cultural context. Take the statement "I'll knock you up in the morning." Is it offensive or risque? Actually it depends on where the sentence was uttered. In the UK it simply means to "wake you up." In the U.S. the statement implies more than a rap on the door and a cheery "good morning."
To read the bible historically means that we can't take sentences from the Bible and pretend that they are truths independent of time and place. So, for instance, when Jesus says that he is the son of man, we might take it at face value and say, "Jesus is affirming his full humanity, the fact that he is human just like us." But taken historically we would see that when Jesus uttered the phrase "Son of Man" he was referring to a figure in the book of Daniel, a figure who is no mere mortal but an exalted figure divine or almost divine. I mention this because sometime historical criticism is perceived to take away the divine in the Bible and substitute naturalistic historic anti-supernatural readings for true Christianity. That is not so. There's more to historical criticism, there are many branches and if you take it up at even an amateur level you get to learn some really cool German words.
I have no problem with historical criticism but I do have a problem teaching it. I've tried often and never been successful. Occasionally I've had adult classes become enthusiastic about particular instances of historical criticism but most young people seem not to have a context that allows for appreciation. How different from my day! When I was a youth we hungered for historical criticism! NOT.
Historical Criticism is the science of reading texts in light of their historic, cultural context. Take the statement "I'll knock you up in the morning." Is it offensive or risque? Actually it depends on where the sentence was uttered. In the UK it simply means to "wake you up." In the U.S. the statement implies more than a rap on the door and a cheery "good morning."
To read the bible historically means that we can't take sentences from the Bible and pretend that they are truths independent of time and place. So, for instance, when Jesus says that he is the son of man, we might take it at face value and say, "Jesus is affirming his full humanity, the fact that he is human just like us." But taken historically we would see that when Jesus uttered the phrase "Son of Man" he was referring to a figure in the book of Daniel, a figure who is no mere mortal but an exalted figure divine or almost divine. I mention this because sometime historical criticism is perceived to take away the divine in the Bible and substitute naturalistic historic anti-supernatural readings for true Christianity. That is not so. There's more to historical criticism, there are many branches and if you take it up at even an amateur level you get to learn some really cool German words.
I have no problem with historical criticism but I do have a problem teaching it. I've tried often and never been successful. Occasionally I've had adult classes become enthusiastic about particular instances of historical criticism but most young people seem not to have a context that allows for appreciation. How different from my day! When I was a youth we hungered for historical criticism! NOT.
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Bonhoeffer's Christianity: An Illuminating Interpretation
Fri, Apr 26 2013 01:10
| religious sociology, theology, Bonhoeffer
| Permalink
When Dietrich Bonhoeffer was imprisoned by the Nazi's, he wrote many letters that were later published as Letters and Papers from Prison. In some of these letters he advanced an idea that he called "religionless Christianity."
The idea has taken on several lives of its own, thanks in part to the fact that Bonhoeffer isn't clear as to what he means by the term and he was executed before the end of World War 2. Some have taken his thought in the direction of Christian atheism, others have believed that he was looking ahead to a time like our own when religious institutions would diminish and Christians would have to do without institutional church structures to remain followers of Christ.
In The Politics of Redemption, Adam Kotsko advances an intriguing thesis regarding what Bonhoeffer means. Kotsko writes that Bonhoeffer's definition of religion is "idiosyncratic and narrow" and in a counter-intuitive sense for most of us. On the basis of the rest of his prison writings, Kotsko makes the claim that Bonhoeffer uses the term "religion" to refer to individualism and metaphysics.
In terms of individualistic accounts of salvation Bonhoeffer writes: "Hasn't the individualistic question about personal salvation almost completely left us all?" Obviously Bonhoeffer doesn't traffic in the same circles I do (I know plenty of people who think individualistically about salvation) but I resonate with his point. The idea of salvation as a transaction between an individual and God (who is also an individual) is an idea that I find difficult to hold onto in light of the story of Jesus and the church. Salvation brings us into new relationships with God and with others.
As to metaphysics, Bonhoeffer goes on to write about "the world beyond." Bonhoeffer wants a world focused faith: "What is above this world is, in the gospel, intended to exist for this world. I mean that, not in the anthropocentric sense of liberal, mystic, pietistic ethical theology, but in the biblical sense of the creation and of the incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection of Christ."
So in Bonhoeffer's religion, individuals are saved from the world in favor of the beyond. As Kostko puts it: "it seems fair to characterize [religion] as essentially the drama of the soul with its God, a drama for which everything else falls into indifference."
Kotsko goes on to show how this explains Bonhoeffer's critiques of both Bultmann and Barth. Bultmann is too concerned with the individual soul of the believer. Barth is too caught up in God as an individual. But that is for another post (God willing).
If Kotsko is right then the last thing that Bonhoeffer sees is Christianity becoming individuals practicing their faith apart from a community. Instead, Bonhoeffer is calling for people to practice faith in community (which is different from individuals attending a church service). And Bonhoeffer's practice is concerned with people in this world and the world itself. Oddly enough, Bonhoeffer's "religionless" has much in common with "religion" according to the book of James: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
The idea has taken on several lives of its own, thanks in part to the fact that Bonhoeffer isn't clear as to what he means by the term and he was executed before the end of World War 2. Some have taken his thought in the direction of Christian atheism, others have believed that he was looking ahead to a time like our own when religious institutions would diminish and Christians would have to do without institutional church structures to remain followers of Christ.
In The Politics of Redemption, Adam Kotsko advances an intriguing thesis regarding what Bonhoeffer means. Kotsko writes that Bonhoeffer's definition of religion is "idiosyncratic and narrow" and in a counter-intuitive sense for most of us. On the basis of the rest of his prison writings, Kotsko makes the claim that Bonhoeffer uses the term "religion" to refer to individualism and metaphysics.
In terms of individualistic accounts of salvation Bonhoeffer writes: "Hasn't the individualistic question about personal salvation almost completely left us all?" Obviously Bonhoeffer doesn't traffic in the same circles I do (I know plenty of people who think individualistically about salvation) but I resonate with his point. The idea of salvation as a transaction between an individual and God (who is also an individual) is an idea that I find difficult to hold onto in light of the story of Jesus and the church. Salvation brings us into new relationships with God and with others.
As to metaphysics, Bonhoeffer goes on to write about "the world beyond." Bonhoeffer wants a world focused faith: "What is above this world is, in the gospel, intended to exist for this world. I mean that, not in the anthropocentric sense of liberal, mystic, pietistic ethical theology, but in the biblical sense of the creation and of the incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection of Christ."
So in Bonhoeffer's religion, individuals are saved from the world in favor of the beyond. As Kostko puts it: "it seems fair to characterize [religion] as essentially the drama of the soul with its God, a drama for which everything else falls into indifference."
Kotsko goes on to show how this explains Bonhoeffer's critiques of both Bultmann and Barth. Bultmann is too concerned with the individual soul of the believer. Barth is too caught up in God as an individual. But that is for another post (God willing).
If Kotsko is right then the last thing that Bonhoeffer sees is Christianity becoming individuals practicing their faith apart from a community. Instead, Bonhoeffer is calling for people to practice faith in community (which is different from individuals attending a church service). And Bonhoeffer's practice is concerned with people in this world and the world itself. Oddly enough, Bonhoeffer's "religionless" has much in common with "religion" according to the book of James: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
Discipleship, Love & Joy: A sermon on John 21:1-19
Sat, Apr 20 2013 10:00
| Permalink
It was after breakfast and the two men were sitting by the fire. Something about a fire that allows you to linger but have something else to look at besides your companions. It had been a quiet breakfast. None of the disciples had wanted to ask Jesus who he was because they knew who he was and yet, this resurrection was throwing everything off. Peter must have wanted to ask Jesus a question about his own status. He had denied him, he'd given up his faith that Jesus was the messiah after Jesus' arrest.
How is it that Peter, known for his outspoken, insert foot in mouth comments can't find anything to say at this moment? Jesus speaks first. Jesus asks to Peter: Peter, do you love me? Now Jesus will ask this question 3 times which is a striking parallel to the 3 times that Peter was asked if he was a disciple of Jesus in the courtyard. And notice please that in both of these scenes there is a fire. The parallels invite us to compare the two scenes. In one Peter says no three times and in the other Peter says yes three times.
Now many scholars believe that this is Jesus' way of restoring Peter. Peter is able to overcome each denial with an affirmation. Jesus gives him the chance to negate his negations. Each of his denying No's is erased by his affirming yes to Jesus.
But notice the form of the questions. In the garden Peter is asked; Are you his disciple? But after breakfast Peter isn't asked: "Are you my disciple" Or even "Are you ready to be my disciple, ready to try following me again?" That's not the question. What is the question? The question is, "do you love me."
Craig Barnes, president of Princeton Seminary, says that actually, when Peter was back in the courtyard where he denies being a disciple of Jesus, he is telling the truth. Peter realizes he isn't a disciple of Jesus. He can't be a disciple.
Here's what Barnes says: If to be a disciple means to follow and following Jesus according to Jesus means following him to the cross and Peter made it clear that he would do anything he could to prevent Jesus from going to the cross then the reality is that Peter is not a disciple. maybe by the first campfire Peter was really telling the truth. " I wish I were but not really, I'm not a disciple. I can't follow him to the cross."
But as important as that question is, as important as discipleship is, that's not the question this morning. The question this morning is what? "Do you love me?"
As important as discipleship is, love is enough. "Do you love me?" asks Jesus. And it's a question you can't settle with an answer once and for all. Again and again the question comes to us. Again and again Jesus asks the question: "do you love me?"
But what sort of love are we talking about here? There are many words for love in Greek and in this passage there are two different words for love being used.
Jesus first says: Simon, do you agapas me" Agape is the form of love ascribed to God and Jesus by John. But when Peter answers he doesn't say: "Yes lord, I agapo you." No, instead he says: "Yes, Lord, you know that I philo you." That is to say, yes Lord, you know that I have brotherly love for you. Phileo means brotherly love.
Now before I go on, I need to say that there are many scholars who don't believe we should make a distinction here between agape and phileo because the two words can be used as synonyms. Actually the argument is more complicated than that but I think John wants us to see the distinction here because of the way he sets up this dialog. So follow me here.
A second time Jesus again asks: "do you agapas me." And Peter again answers, "Yes Lord, you know that I philoyou."
Finally, the third time, Jesus asks the question using Peter's word:" Peter, do you phileis me?" And Peter again answers," Lord you know everything, you know that I philo you."
Now I always hoped that the questioning would end differently. I always hoped that Peter would consider Jesus once, twice, three times and by the third time Peter would say, "yes, Lord, I do agapo you! Yes, Lord, I love you with the highest form of love." That would be like Jesus being a great coach who knows how to move his player from good to great, from Philo to Agapo, from brotherly love to divine, selfless love. Wouldn't it be great to see Peter's spirit soar as he grows in love loyalty and devotion?
But instead of Peter rising up to meet Jesus, Jesus descends to attend to Peter.
And you know what? What Jesus does here is what God has been doing since the beginning. God descends. God descends. When we stumble God stoops to our level. When we are weak God comes down to us. When we can't meet the divine standard God lowers the bar as it were. You see what Jesus does here? Peter can't make it to Agapo. So Jesus says: do you philo? And Peter can truthfully answer the question about Jesus.
Peter may not be a true disciple, there are still days and times when he doesn't follow. And Peter may not be a perfect lover, his loyalty to Jesus may not merit Agapostatus. But his Philo, his all too human love, is enough. It's enough for Jesus to get started working on Peter. It's enough for Peter to begin his work of feeding and caring for Jesus and Jesus people.
And what a relief this passage ! We can stop pretending that we have all the answers, we can stop pretending that our faith never wavers, we can stop pretending that we never make mistakes we can stop pretending that our love for Jesus is all razzle-dazzle. We don't have to act like we've arrived. All we need to do is look at Jesus, admire him and let him go to work.
If love is enough for Peter, it's enough for us as well. It's enough to get us started towards being disciples that follow Jesus, it's enough to keep us close to Jesus so we can grow into deeper, agapo love.
It's enough to get us on the path that will eventually lead us not to where we wanted to go but to the places that God wants to take us so that we become the people that God wants us to be. That's good news.
The good news of the resurrection is that even now that Jesus is raised and exalted on high, he hasn't forgotten how to come down to our level and love us with God's love. The good news of the resurrection is that God is still at work in our lives and Jesus loves and forgives us. The good news of the resurrection is that God has become one of us so that we may, after a long road to glory become one with God. And in the mean time, as we await that becoming, Jesus stands in our place with the way of life and the love that God intends for us to live.
Remarks on the early publishing industry
Sat, Apr 13 2013 12:00
| Permalink
Before the printing press and copy machine everything was copied by hand. In the middle ages, this work was done by monks, sitting in silence in rooms with clear glass windows known as scriptoriums. In his delightful book, The Swerve: How the World Became Modern, Stephen Greenblatt includes this humorous but true anecdote on how business was conducted there:
"The monastery was a place of rules, but in the scriptorium there were rules within rules....Absolute silence reigned....An elaborate gestural language was invented in order to facilitate such requests as were permitted. If a scribe wanted to consult a psalter, he made the general sign for a book--extending his hands and running over imaginary pages--and then, by putting his hands on his head in the shape of a crown, the specific sign for the psalms of King David. If we was asking for a pagan book, he began, after making the general signs [for book], to scratch behind his ear, like a dog scratching his fleas. And if he wished to have what the Church regarded as a particularly offensive or dangerous pagan book, he could put two fingers into his mouth, as if he were gagging."
Stephen Greenblatt, The Swerve: How the World Became Modern. Norton, 2011. pp.43-44
"The monastery was a place of rules, but in the scriptorium there were rules within rules....Absolute silence reigned....An elaborate gestural language was invented in order to facilitate such requests as were permitted. If a scribe wanted to consult a psalter, he made the general sign for a book--extending his hands and running over imaginary pages--and then, by putting his hands on his head in the shape of a crown, the specific sign for the psalms of King David. If we was asking for a pagan book, he began, after making the general signs [for book], to scratch behind his ear, like a dog scratching his fleas. And if he wished to have what the Church regarded as a particularly offensive or dangerous pagan book, he could put two fingers into his mouth, as if he were gagging."
Stephen Greenblatt, The Swerve: How the World Became Modern. Norton, 2011. pp.43-44
Now You See Him, Now You Don't
Wed, Apr 10 2013 02:22
| Luke 24, Resurrection, Easter, holiday
| Permalink
In the aftermath of Easter day, we are still considering the earth shattering implications of Jesus' resurrection during this season known as "Eastertide." A question to ponder: Why does Jesus appear after the resurrection, but only briefly? Consider one brief appearance of Jesus recorded by Luke: two disciples are walking back from Jerusalem on Easter with heavy hearts. They know that Jesus was crucified and has died. They had hoped, before those tragic events, that Jesus was the one who would liberate Israel from an oppressive empire. And now they are walking along a road, heading home discouraged, unaware of the resurrection. A stranger joins them and they explain their sorrow. The stranger in turn starts telling them how even the bad things that have happened were part of the plan for their liberation. When the disciples reach their hometown they invite the stranger in to eat. As they sit down to dinner the stranger takes the bread, blesses it and breaks it. At that moment the disciples' eyes are opened! It is Jesus. But notice what happens next in Luke 24:31: The very moment that Jesus is recognized he vanishes! Jesus shows up just long enough to send these two disciples who have thrown in the towel back to the disciples in Jerusalem. Jesus shows up to bring us together. Rather than sticking around as a distraction he vanishes so that we are thrust back into his community, thrust back among the imperfect people that he is at work among and through. I am reminded that God sent Jesus because he loves the world and God calls you and me for the same reason: love for the world, a love that flows through us and beyond us. Jesus vanishes, the world remains. Let us engage the world with love.
Easter poetry by Gerardo Oberman
Wed, Apr 3 2013 01:25
| Permalink
“At the place where Jesus was crucified, there was a garden…” (John 19; 41)
This is not a casual remark from John.
in the place where they snatch the life from Jesus,
in all cruelty and pain, there – there was a garden.
Where torture and hatred try to bring to silence
Him who was opening up the way to the new, to light,
just there, there was a garden.
Where the religious and political power came together
to put a stop to the man from Nazareth
who scandalized their fake morality and the corruption
of their ways, in that same place there were flowers
and the fresh smell of spring.
Where there was the absence of friends and disciples,
where there was announcement of cowardice and betrayal,
where there was denial and fear
in that same place birds sang their daily praise to creation.
Where oppressors smiled and greeted the guardians of death,
the breeze danced among the tress and their dance brought with it
a fresh perfume of life.
Where two men in solidarity took into their arms an innocent body
to place it in a tomb, there, there was a garden.
A garden would soon become the sacred place
of the most marvellous subversion of all times: the resurrection.
…
Torture, innocent deaths, intrigues of power, oppression, darkness,
they continue to be part of human history, they are present still today.
But, let us not forget, let us open up our eyes, because there, precisely there,
God may have put a garden.
Gerardo Oberman/Argentina
Tr. Roberto Jordan
Gerardo Oberman is the President of Reformed Churches of Argentina
Poetry for Easter: John Updike
Sun, Mar 31 2013 10:37
| Resurrection, Easter, Poetry, Holidays
| Permalink
Seven Stanzas At Easter
By John Updike
Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells' dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.
It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.
The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that--pierced--died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.
Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.
The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.
And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck's quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.
Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.
A Good Friday Poem from Luci Shaw
Judas, Peter
because we are all
betrayers, taking
silver and eating
body and blood and asking
(guilty) is it I and hearing
him say yes
it would be simple for us all
to rush out
and hang ourselves
but if we find grace
to cry and wait
after the voice of morning
has crowed in our ears
clearly enough
to break our hearts
he will be there
to ask us each again
do you love me?
We read this poem at our Thursday night Tenebrae service near the beginning and then closed after hearing of the tomb with these words: "Tonight we end in the tomb and we stay there until we resume our common worship on the third day, Sunday. 'he will be there to ask us each again do you love me?" Powerful.
A Palm Sunday Prayer
Sun, Mar 24 2013 12:06
| Holy Week, Palm Sunday, Poetry
| Permalink
The politics of palm sunday
by Steve Taylor
Jesus enters the city
A hot bed of religious fervour and zealous passion
Some wanted him dead
Some wanted him to take up arms against the oppressor
Some simply wanted a son
alive
once the shouting was over
Jesus what if you were mis-
under-
misquoted, stood?
shot with words
manipu
lated,
riddled with emotion
domesticated,
to a dominant agenda
Jesus give me the courage to keep saying yes
to your call
and your Kingdom
no matter how many people shout
wave, holler
Uncommon King: A Palm Sunday Sermon
Sun, Mar 24 2013 12:02
| Luke 19, Holy Week, Palm Sunday, Holidays
| Permalink
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| Big Elk Lake, Siskyou County, California |
Palm Sunday reminds me of my first backpacking trip. I was 10 years old. And the first day we left the car to hike 9 miles to a mountain lake. I'm not sure if I'd ever walked 9 miles before and I certainly hadn't walked that far with a 20 pound pack on my back. We had walked a long way and passed a trail crossing where a sign indicated we had just 1 more mile to go to that lake. We walked down that trail for what seemed like almost a mile and then we could see, a hundred yards ahead, where the trail came out of the forest onto a bench of land and my mother said, "I'll bet that's where the lake is." So with new-found energy in my step I quickened my pace up to the crest where I saw a meadow but no lake. After crossing the meadow we were in the trees again until the trail led up into another sunny clearing, "That's where the lake is" said my dad and again I hurried ahead only to discover that the lake wasn't in that clearing either. Suddenly my body was tired, the disappointment of twice dashed hopes did in my legs and I sat down on a decaying log and threw off my backpack. It took a lot of coaxing and cajoling by my parents and copious handfuls of M&Ms before I agreed to go on. That last mile was the longest mile and there were a few more false hopes before we finally found the lake. Palm Sunday is like one of those clearings that brought joy to the people before they realized there were more hills to climb.
When Jesus left Jericho for the last time in his life, it was all uphill. It was a steep climb from Jericho to Jerusalem, his final destination. Fifteen miles, mostly hot, dry and dusty even in springtime, uphill. He wasn't alone on the journey. His disciples were with him and there were also throngs of people making the journey to Jerusalem where Passover celebrations were beginning. The dry and dusty trail begins to change after 12 miles or so, there the barren dusty desert is finally replaced by lush green trees. Jesus paused in the shade to rest, bending over, hands on his knees, catching his breath in the delicious shade. Disciples surrounded him, a few sitting down with their backs to the scrawny tree trunks. After a minute, Jesus looks at two of them and says "you guys go on into that village over there. You won't have to go far before you see a young donkey tied to a tree. Untie it and bring it back. If anyone challenges you just say "the master needs it " and they won't bother you.
So the two disciples got up and walked over to the village where they found a donkey just like Jesus had said. They untied it and began leading it back to Jesus. A man leaned out of a doorway: "What do you think you are doing?" he asked. "The master needs it." Replied one of the disciples. The man nodded, the disciples kept walking.
As they approached Jesus the other disciples got back on their feet. Some took off their tunics and threw them on the donkey. Jesus walked up to the donkey and James and John helped him mount. Then they continued on to the top of the mountain and then down the narrow canyon that separates the mount of olives from the city of Jerusalem. The sight of the city and the presence of Jesus mounted on a donkey brought elation to the swelling crowd. Peace and blessing and glory on high shouted one man. A woman cried out "welcome to the king in the name of the Lord!" Her words fit the moment and caught on. Soon others were shouting "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!" and then it became a chant in unison: Blessed is the king....who comes...in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory on high! Blessed is the king...who comes...in the name of the Lord." People looking at Jesus, filled with gratitude, singing, chanting. waving branches. People untying their jackets from around their waists and spreading them on the ground.
What began as a simple pilgrimage has become a spectacle.
There is Jesus, mounted on the donkey, there is the large crowd, cheering, praising, giving him a royal welcome, waving branches, using their coats as impromptu pavement. He's a VIP after all; the king. This is a royal welcome, the sort of welcome given to a victorious king entering the city his army has just defeated.
Yet the branches and the cloaks combined with the donkey, mingle together to signal something strange: they signal that Jesus, if he is a king, is an Uncommon King. The king should ride into the city on a horse, not a donkey. But not Jesus. No warhorse for him. There he is, yep, riding on a donkey. Furthermore, he approaches the stronghold of his enemies unarmed and he hasn't sent his army ahead to win the battle. And arriving in Jerusalem he doesn't march on the palace. Instead he heads toward the temple, a place he purifies for prayer. He is an uncommon king become he comes to the occupied city in peace, He is an uncommon king because he comes in weakness, He is an uncommon king because he comes to surrender his life, to lay it down. He is an uncommon king because he doesn't demand his subjects protect him. He is an uncommon king because he walks into a hornet's nest knowing better than those who are celebrating that he will be stung.
Nevertheless, even knowing what he knows, Jesus rides on, right into the place that demand death. Jesus does this because he has an uncommon goal. Earlier in his gospel, Luke tells us that Jesus is resolute in heading for Jerusalem. But the first stop on his journey, way back in Galilee, is a high mountain far away from Jerusalem, a place of refuge where he meets with Moses and Elijah at an event called the transfiguration. Luke tells us that Moses and Elijah have a discussion with Jesus and the topic is the Exodus of Jesus. The word exodus is a loaded term in this context. Centuries before God had led Israel out of Egypt in a dramatic event known as the exodus. Israelites, in slavery under the fists of their enemies were led across the Red Sea and into freedom. Jesus is preparing for another Exodus, another great moment when God leads people from bondage to freedom. Now Jesus is a leader superior to Moses. And yet his role in this Exodus will be different than Moses' role in the Exodus from Egypt. Rather than the man who raises his staff so that the red sea divides and the people can travel along the sea floor to freedom on the other side, Jesus is more like the Passover lamb that is killed in order to protect the Israelites from the death that comes in darkest night. And so it's no accident that Jesus enters Jerusalem at the time of the Passover, he comes as an uncommon king with an uncommon goal: to die. He comes to embody everything he had been talking about and teaching: he comes to serve, he comes to turn the other cheek, he comes to take up his cross, he comes to forgive, he comes to trust in God when God is all that is left for him to trust. On palm Sunday we celebrate an uncommon king with an uncommon goal: to renounce a royal life and die a shameful death so that humanity might have a new way to live.
What exactly is this way of life that Christ gives? It is the life we see given on good Friday and resurrected by God on Easter Sunday. It is a life given to defeat sin and death, a life that offers forgiveness and a fresh start. And this is a form of life still on offer today, a way of life that Jesus invites us to take up. This is a form of life that has stood the test of time, a life well lived by people in many times and places: by Francis of Assisi in the 12th century and Martin Luther King Jr. in the 20th. by Julian of Norwich in England and Mother Theresa in India. It is a life that cannot be reduced to a moment. And it is a life that has its Palm Sundays as well as Ash Wednesdays, its Easters as well as good Fridays. You see, Jesus is an uncommon king who offers an uncommon invitation, an invitation to a life that leads us into the mystery of God's love and grace.
You may not know this unless you read the trade publications of pastors (and who among us reads those?) but Palm Sunday has gotten a bad rap lately. It seems too joyful and triumphant when in reality Palm Sunday is a flash in the pan, an event whose joy soon evaporates. So instead of celebrating Palm Sunday many churches now celebrate Passion Sunday as well or instead of Palm Sunday. Passion Sunday is when the story of the betrayal, arrest and crucifixion of Jesus is read. It's what we will do this Thursday night. Passion Sunday reminds us that who chanted "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord on Palm Sunday were shouting "crucify him" crucify him, on Friday. The hosannas and blessings of Palm Sunday ring hollow in retrospect, replaced as they are by the curses of Friday. At least that is how the trade publications would have us preach and lead worship. Palm Sunday reminds me of my first backpacking trip and that clearing up ahead in the forest where I thought there was a lake but soon discovered just another meadow. Oh I was elated. Oh there was a spring in my step and the joy of anticipation in my heart. But soon I had thrown off my pack and sat deep in disappointment on a log. Looking back at Palm Sunday we see that disappointment is around the corner. So why do we celebrate Palm Sunday?
Here's why: Jesus. Jesus knows what is in store, he knows the crowd will be turned against him, for that matter he knows Judas will betray him, Peter deny him, the rest desert him. But for all of that he refuses to silence the crowd. He refuses to silence us in our premature praise. Instead he embraces the crowd just as he will share a meal with the deserting disciples and remain faithful to denying Peter. Jesus knows that sometimes we rightfully praise God even though we don't realize that our story and God's story, our story with God has turns ahead that will turn our thanks to grumbling , our praise to jeers, our joy to fear, our love to betrayal and our faith to denial. Jesus knows this. Jesus knows that we will fall away, that our faith will give way to doubt, our holiness this moment to sin. Nevertheless, Jesus welcomes our praise on this day even as he welcomed the praise of a crowd that would soon cry out for his condemnation. He does this because he understands our weakness and loves us in spite of it. Yes, that's it. That's what this Palm Sunday story is about. This is a story about the uncommon love of an uncommon king. This is the story of the uncommon love of Jesus. The uncommon love of Jesus for people who couldn't see that victory lay in laying down his life. The uncommon love of Jesus for people who want to put down their cross and mope on a decaying log before the journey is over. The uncommon love of Jesus for people like Peter and people like you and me who deny him.
Why celebrate Palm Sunday? Because we celebrate Jesus. So come what tomorrow may hold for us, today let us praise God and give thanks for Jesus our uncommon king with an uncommon objective brought about by uncommon love. "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!"
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