Sunday, March 18, 2018

Whom then should I fear?




On last Wednesday evening’s Prayer Around the Cross, we gathered in this space and heard the words of Psalm 27: The LORD is my light and my salvation; who then should I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
Then, we acknowledged, “Many of your people, O God, are full of fear…”
We named people who fear because we have no home or because our home is no protection… because we’re worried for our children or our parents… because we’re defending our freedoms or fighting injustice… because no one can live up to our expectations or because we’re always on the outside.

We said out loud, “Many of your people, O God, find your face to be hidden, and your grace to be distant…” and we sang, “Do not forsake us…”

So now, today, we turn our eyes to Jesus—the King of Glory—and at the first sentence of this gospel reading, it is as if all his glory is gone. He has been forsaken. He has been publically abused, mocked (with a crown of thorns and purple robe), and when the chief priests and police see him, they don’t appear to have even a touch of pity. They just call for Pilate to finish the job and put him to death.
Empire is a merciless system… all must have absolute loyalty to the Emperor and everyone knows it. But even in the midst of a merciless system, people along the way of the story all make attempts at mercy. Nicodemus asks before Jesus’ trial, “Don’t we hear people out before we condemn them?” (John 7:50-51) After Pilate tries to bully Jesus, Jesus tells Pilate, “Don’t worry, I’m more responsible for being in this position than you are…” and in the face of that, Pilate tries to release Jesus… but mercy doesn’t appear to win the day. Jesus is handed over to be crucified.

What do we do in the face of systems that appear to have no mercy, where attempts at courageous, nonviolent, truth-telling and resistance are met with condemnation, violence, and even death? Our students told their stories this morning. Other students across the U.S. did not experience support from their school administrators, teachers, and communities. I read about one student who was the only student at her school to protest. Two others in Arkansas were paddled for their non-violent resistance, and a teacher stood behind the practice. Many students throughout the U.S. and several in New York State were suspended (and they didn’t even leave the building). So… stopping a violent system is no easy thing. It may look like mercy hasn’t won the day… but the good news in the story is that while things may get worse before they get better, we can know for sure that if the story is at its bleakest moment, if hope is lost, if killing and death have won, that is not the end of the story.

Jesus knows this… through and through… in the gospel according to John. Everyone Jesus meets encounters a mirror—Jesus shows them who they are, and that can be troubling or inspiring or some combination of both. But Jesus also shows them who Jesus is, and as they glimpse Jesus, they experience a God-of-embracing-love like they can’t quite imagine. It transforms them… From Nicodemus, a man wandering in the night to a man who questions his peers in Jesus’ defense. And the Samaritan woman who becomes a bold witness to the God who comes with transforming love to her community and to the ends of the earth. To Pilate who hands Jesus over, but is met with reassurance that he doesn’t really have any power over him…

Jesus is clear throughout the gospel of John. Even through the betrayal of closest friends and those crowds who adored him, even in the trial while Pilate is  exceedingly afraid” (as bullies perpetually are…), even on the cross, Jesus is remarkably clear about God’s power. Jesus won’t condemn even Pilate… and although we can’t know how it felt on the inside, Jesus appears fearless.
In the face of that, they call for Jesus to be crucified.
Jesus’ own people declare as a mob their ultimate loyalty to Caesar – not to God – it’s devastating… 
Any one of us, and all of us in a crowd together can crumble… we can turn against each other, turn against love, against God…We fail to do what we are powerful to do, we become exceedingly afraid…

And Jesus, this Jesus who comes from above, who shows us who we are more clearly than anyone else, refuses to judge us.
The encounter with Jesus discloses what’s true about us… but more importantly, it shows us what’s true about Jesus, what’s true about God.
Disclosing human shortcomings is never the last word for Jesus.
Self-giving, powerful, love-in-action is the last word… in Jesus’ living, in Jesus’ dying, and in the miracle and mystery of the resurrection.

Throughout the gospel of John, the encounter with Jesus discloses what’s true… about Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, Pilate, Jesus’ own people…
But even the truth about ourselves moves us to regret, those are not the last truths…

Servants of Caesar are known by their violence. Jesus says everyone will know [God’s] servants by their love. Does our testimony in word and deed reflect our citizenship in the alternate kingdom from above, where servants of the Beloved are nonviolent, vulnerable lovers of friend and foe? Or do our words and actions suggest that our first allegiance is to something else -- a nation or [ideology] or religious institution?If the answer is not clear, the good news is that it is precisely this [messed up] world of Pilate and the religious authorities and our own hearts that God loves.[1]


Prophets of a Future Not Our Own
It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view. 
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well…
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an
opportunity for [God’s] grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master
builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.[2]


Jesus loves you as you are, and so together, we can confidently take the long view—as we March for Our Lives, feeling confident we can make a change—and when at the end of the day, we feel despair about whether we have had the impact we hoped. Here’s another passage shared with me this week:

Nothing we do is complete…

Holy God, grant that all who seek your face in times of trouble may see your goodness in this life through Jesus Christ, full of unending mercy.




[1] Commentary by Meda Stamper, Workingpreacher.org, March 18, 2018.
[2] This prayer was first presented by Cardinal Dearden in 1979 and quoted by Pope Francis in 2015. This reflection is an excerpt from a homily written for Cardinal Dearden by then-Fr. Ken Untener on the occasion of the Mass for Deceased Priests, October 25, 1979. Pope Francis quoted Cardinal Dearden in his remarks to the Roman Curia on December 21, 2015. Fr. Untener was named bishop of Saginaw, Michigan, in 1980. [Widely, but incorrectly, attributed to Oscar Romero}.