Don't Turn Away

March 29^th, 2015      “Don’t Turn Away”  Rev. Heather Jepsen

Mark 11:1-11 with Mark 15:1-39

          This year we are doing a combination Palm and Passion Sunday.  So often folks are only able to make it to church on Sundays and so we jump straight from the triumphal entry of Palm Sunday into the joy of Easter.  There is something “not fair” about that.  We need to look at the cross, and we need to think on the death of Christ, before we can fully celebrate the resurrection.  Though it makes us uncomfortable, our call as people of faith is to deliberately not turn away from suffering.

          We will begin with the Palm Sunday reading that Mike shared.  Jesus and his friends gather for a bit of political theatre.  When we celebrated this holiday last year I pointed out to you all the political overtones of this event.  While Jesus is entering through the back door of the city, Pontius Pilate is processing in the front.  Pilate is making a big show of the power and might of the Roman Empire.  From hundreds of armed guards to large war horses, Pilate is marching into the city in triumph.  Pilate is showing that the empire is still in control, even if this is a Jewish holiday.  Passover has become political.

          The entry that Jesus makes is a mockery of all things empire.  Mark makes sure to point out that Jesus had this all set up ahead of time.  He rides in on a baby donkey, his feet dragging in the dirt.  There is no army, only a rag tag band of followers.  And yet, unlike Pilate’s entry, there is true worship here.  He is greeted with cries of joy and thanksgiving.  Jesus is presenting a bit of political theatre, challenging the Roman authority on this Passover holiday. 

          There is a tinge of sadness to the Palm Sunday celebration though.  While the crowds seem to greet Jesus in joy, we all know that it will be only a matter of time before they gather once again to see him paraded through the town.  But on this second parade, they will spit in his face, rather than cry out in worship.  The week of Passover turns quickly for the Christ.  He will clash with the Roman authorities and he will clash with the Jewish religious leaders as they attempt to control the swelling Passover crowds.  Jesus will be abandoned, he will be falsely accused, he will be mocked, and he will be tortured and killed.  Thus we turn to our second reading.

In Mark’s telling of the story it is the religious leaders who hand Jesus over to the Roman authorities to be killed.  Though they want him dead, they do not want the stain of his death on their hands.  Those who cried “Hosanna!” shout “Crucify Him!” and the torture begins.  They humiliate him, they spit on him, they rip his clothes off his body, and they mock him.  They beat him, for the fun of it.  And finally they hang him on a cross to die; a common criminal, one among many, rotting in the sky in shame and humiliation.

Like many of you, I hate this story.  I don’t want to know, I don’t want to read it, and I don’t want to look.  I imagine myself in that time period, walking by, trying to shield my children from the horrific sight.  I try to shield my children from it even now, today.  “Don’t look” I want to say, “turn away from that.”

But as adults, as people of faith, we must not turn away.  We must stand and look at this suffering.  We must admit that this is the story of our faith.  The most wonderful, loving, and righteous man who ever walked the earth was tortured and killed for no good reason.

What we see in the cross is our God’s identification with all those who suffer.  Our God identifies, not with the religious leaders, not with the church, not with the government, not with the elite and powerful, but with those who suffer injustice.  Our God identifies with those who are mistreated, those who are tortured, and those who are killed.  That is where we see the cross today, and that is where we see our God.  We must not turn away from the cross, just as we must not turn away from the suffering and injustice in our own world today.

Like many preachers, I am inspired by other good preachers, and roaming the internet among my colleagues this week was a powerful poem written by a student minister at Glide Memorial Church in San Francisco.  I love the way Marvin White, reframes the cross for our time and place.  Listen to what he has to say . . .

What if God was at work and got a call from Jesus who was crying and scared saying “Now My soul is troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour? But for this purpose I came to this hour? Father, glorify Your name.”

What if God didn’t know what was going on and whispered into the phone outside of the earshot of the supervisor, “I have both glorified it and will glorify it again”?

What if God was at work and got another call from one of Jesus’ friends who confirmed that Jesus was in trouble?

What if Jesus’ friend said some dudes were planning on setting him up, jumping him, and killing him?

What if God had just gotten this over time working graveyard and couldn’t afford another write up for talking on the phone on the job?

What if God couldn’t get off work because God had used up all of God’s sick leave from all them other times God got this call?

What if God comforted God’s self, hoping that God taught Jesus right?

What if God was like a lot of mothers in Oakland, Ferguson and Stanton Island?

What if God could hear Jesus crying for God and God couldn’t do anything?

What if God’s son was killed?

And what if God only had God’s self to comfort God?

What if God knows who witnessed his son’s murder and they knew god knew they saw and they still didn’t come forward?

What if God knows who did it and didn’t press charges?

What if God felt responsible?

What if God remembers saying “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” but also remembers all of the time that God wasn’t able to go to back to school night, hear him teach at temple, or make it home for dinner?

What if God couldn’t bring God’s self to identify the body and had Mary do it?

What if God didn’t have the money to have the body embalmed and had to depend on women like my mama and your mama to take care of it?

What if God heard the body was missing?

What if God couldn’t afford a plot at Rolling Hills or Arlington?

What if God couldn’t sleep for 40 days because people on the news say they saw Jesus in Jerusalem with his disciples and Paul was on the news saying he was on his way to Damascus and Jesus tried to blind him and Cleopas said he was on his way to Emmaus and saw Jesus?

What if God didn’t know what to believe?

What if God was inconsolable and besides God’s self?

What if God was rocking God’s self, crying, “Hands Up. Don’t Shoot. Hands Up. Don’t Shoot. Hands Up. Don’t Shoot?

What if it was a day like today and God heard something through God’s grief and God looked up and there to God’s surprise was God’s son Jesus?

What if God can be surprised?

What if God didn’t know these tears God was crying because God had never had a son go through hell just to come home?

What if God cried harder when Jesus came home than when he left home?

What if God leapt from creation and towards Jesus and Jesus leapt from death towards God and they collapsed into each other’s arms like they were both running from somebody?

And what if that hug is what all of creation feels like when we see God seeing us?

What if God’s children back in God’s arms is what we’re celebrating this Resurrection Sunday?

What if God doesn’t know so when God sees you it’s like the first time God is holding Gods child?

What if God does not want to rehearse that response? What if God becomes God every time one of us makes it home?

What if we all make it home?

What if the God of the outpouring is the God of the inflowing, leaping up and opening God’s self to receive us like a child coming home after a report to the contrary?

What if God gets to pray and black men get to be God’s answer every time?

What if…

What if...

What if…

I would add to this, what if we didn’t turn away from the suffering we see on the cross or the suffering we find in our world?  What if we honestly faced what it means to worship a God who dies, a God who is tortured, a God who is humiliated and finally brutally killed?  It is my prayer that we would take some time this week and truly reflect on the suffering of our God and the suffering in our world.  Don’t turn away.  Amen.

 

To See Jesus

March 22^nd, 2015                             “To See Jesus”                       Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 12:20-33

          This is the final Sunday of Lent before we head into the power and drama of Holy Week.  Next Sunday we will celebrate Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, but this week we have a chance to hear from him one more time, before he enters his final moments.

          In our reading for today, there are others looking to hear from Jesus as well.  Outsiders, Gentiles, who are Greeks, have heard about Jesus and his teaching and so they come seeking information.  First they approach Philip, since he has a Greek name and is from a Greek town.  “Sir, we wish to see Jesus” they say.  Philip in turn tells his brother Andrew and together the two approach Jesus to inform him that Gentiles are seeking him.  Jesus has just raised Lazarus from the dead so it is no wonder that folks are eager to meet him.

          This is another strange reading from the gospel of John, where the action takes a back seat to the theological message the writer of the gospel seeks to convey.  Rather than bringing the Gentiles to Jesus, or Jesus going to address them directly, Jesus interprets the message, that Gentiles are seeking him, as a sign from God.  Jesus has finally come to “his hour” which has been alluded to throughout the whole gospel, and so he launches into a theological speech on the meaning of his death.  The text doesn’t make clear if the Greeks ever met Jesus or not, in fact it seems to imply that they don’t as soon after this Jesus hides from the crowds until his crucifixion.

           The theological speech that Jesus gives is compelling and it serves to frame his death in the gospel of John.  In one of the most powerful images in the whole of the gospels, Jesus tells the parable of the grain of wheat, clearly describing how he must die in order to live.  “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”  Jesus goes on to say once again that those who love him must be willing to lose their lives in order to follow him. 

          In this moment of knowing his demise is near, Jesus declares that his soul is troubled.  He considers asking God to save him from this path, but decides against it saying “Father, glorify your name.”  A voice comes from the heavens, the only time this happens in the gospel of John, and declares that yes, God will be glorified.  The crowds standing about hear the noise but cannot discern the message.  To close the scene, Jesus declares that the time of judgment is near.  Soon he will be lifted up, and he will draw all people to himself.

          This is a wonderful passage for us as modern believers on the cusp of yet another Holy Week.  Like the Gentiles in today’s reading, we come to church asking to see Jesus.  In the lesson he gives today, Jesus makes it plain what it is we must do if we are to see him.  The message is not easy, but it is clear.  What we must do to see Jesus is to be willing to die, in order to live.  He must be willing to give up our self-centered mode of existence, for the other-centered gospel that Jesus is preaching.  If we are to be part of Jesus’ community, if we are to see Jesus, then we must die.

          Though it was not the path that I would of chosen, I had the opportunity to die to my self-centered way of living this week.  As you know, this was Spring Break for the kids here in Warrensburg.  Like many parents I had lots of fun plans for my family.  My own parents, Tom and Patty Ruehle, were coming to town and we had big plans for a week of fun.  Haircuts, shoe shopping, movies, and butterflies were all on the roster.  Plus I had my regular work to get done like writing this sermon.  I had lot of plans that centered around myself and what I wanted to do.

          And then the kids got sick, really sick.  No haircut, no shoes, no work.  We were fighting fevers, forcing fluids, and spending time in the ER.  In order to live, and in order for my children to live, I needed to die.  I needed to throw away everything that I had planned on, everything I wanted to do, and invest all I had in keeping my kids going. 

Admittedly this is a lot easier to do for our kids than it is to do for our faith.  But this is what Jesus asks of us.  This is the lesson that Jesus teaches.  We must be willing to give up and throw away our plans for our lives, our desires for our families, our goals for our budgets, and live a life of faith instead.  And we need to do it here, in the church community, if we really want to see Jesus.

The only place that we can see Jesus is in community, because the only place that we can see Jesus is in each other.  We cannot see Jesus in ourselves, and if we want to be part of the community we must be willing to die.  Unlike the grain of wheat, we have a choice.  We can choose to remain alone, a single grain of wheat.  Or we can give up what we are, we can die and be buried, and in doing so we can grow to produce fruit and we become a part of the community.  The seed that does not die remains stagnant and alone.  By contrast, the seed that is willing to die; grows, multiples, and becomes part of the field, the community of faith.

          Jesus declares that when he is lifted up from the earth he will draw all people to himself.  As I mentioned last week, the idea of being lifted up has two connotations in John’s gospel.  Jesus will be physically lifted up on the cross in his death, and he will also be exalted in that moment, spiritually lifted up as the Son of God.  In his moment of suffering, Jesus will draw all people to himself.  To see Jesus is to look upon him in his moment of suffering, and to join him in his willingness to lose his life for the sake of the gospel.

          Jesus declares that his hour has come, the hour when he must commit to this ultimate path of self-denial and I would argue that as followers of Jesus, this hour comes for all of us as well.  We must ask ourselves if we really want to see Jesus, or if we only want to see a God of our own making, a God who serves our own self interest.

          If we really want to see Jesus, if we really want to be his followers, than that will dictate how we approach our daily lives.  When we are interacting with others, are we looking to serve our own needs?  Or are we willing to give up our own needs to serve others?  Do we do what we do, to get something or to give something?  Do we come to church, the community of seeds, and the field of faith to get something for ourselves or to serve each other?  I would argue that we cannot be the church if we come here for selfish interests.  We can only be the church if we come here to serve each other, as well as those outside of these doors.  That is the only way we will ever see Jesus.

          This message of dying to self was counter cultural in Jesus’ time and continues to shock us today.  So much of our world demands that we put ourselves in the center of things.  I need to get a better job, I need to make more money, and I need a new car.  I can’t fly coach to Malawi; I need the church to buy me a 65 million dollar private jet.  Though it may make the nightly news, I don’t think anyone would argue that pastors are immune to this way of thinking.  24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year we are bombarded with a message of self.  What is in it for me?

          By contrast Jesus tells us that we must give all that up.  In loving ourselves, we destroy ourselves.  In replacing love for self with a love for others, we gain our lives, we grow.  And not only that, we are able to finally see Jesus.  It is the ultimate Lenten message.  We must die in order to live.  If we want to see Jesus, we must look at him lifted upon the cross, and we must allow our own self interested way of life to join him in death there.

           And so today as the arrival of Holy Week draws ever near, we must ask ourselves just why we are here today.  Are we here to get something for ourselves?  Or are we here to see Jesus?  If we are here to see Jesus than they only way we will ever do it is to die.  To die to our desires, die to our wants, die even to our needs, as we replace a cold heart of self interest with a living heart of generosity and service.  May God be with us as we continue this Lenten journey.  May God be with us as we are drawn with the crowds to see Jesus, in his true nature, broken and bloodied on a cross of love.  Amen.