Showing posts with label crucifixion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crucifixion. Show all posts

Monday, March 26, 2018

Sermon: Contrasts


Cathedral Church of St. Paul, Detroit

Palm / Passion Sunday

by The Rev. Vicki Hesse, Assisting

Palm Sunday (Year B) March 25, 2018

Listen on SoundCloud here.

In the name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen+

Good morning! it is an honor
to share with you this morning, 
this special milestone in our life together called
Palm/Passion Sunday.

Today’s full ceremony
of prayer and readings,
tempts me to say nothing. 
The readings kind of speak for themselves. And, at the same time,
they beg for explanation. 
Today,
the contrasts and paradoxes of Holy Week
meet us as we journey to Jerusalem with Jesus.

The city of Jerusalem, in Jesus’ time,
with a population of about 30,000,
would swell to as many as 80,000
during the festival of Passover.

Because of the crowds,
the occupying Roman authorities
would get nervous ever year.
The Roman governor and
an extra contingent of imperial troops
would come to Jerusalem
in case things got out of control.
A visible sign of force and rule. 

As many scholars have written[1],
it is quite likely
that Jesus planned his entry into Jerusalem
specifically to contrast
the time that Pilate entered the city.

So “…that spring day in the year 30,”
two contrasting processions entered Jerusalem.
From the east, Jesus rode a donkey
down the Mount of Olives
in a peasant procession.
From the west, Governor Pontius Pilate
entered Jerusalem
in an imperial procession.

These two processions show
the central conflict and contrasts
leading to Jesus’ crucifixion:
his message of Love,
and his compassion and commitment
for the poor,
declare the already-present kingdom of God
over and against both
the Roman Imperial power and
the Jewish high-priestly influence.

So many contrasts!
·         The charismatic teacher
riding triumphantly into Jerusalem,
was also the one betrayed, abandoned and humbled, facing death.
·         The people’s adoration of him
giving way to cries for crucifixion.
·         His consolation for us
giving way to his anguish and uncertainty
before God.
·         His extensive message of compassion
giving way to an unnerving silence.
·         As human, Jesus was offensive and there were even contrasts in who rejected him: rich and poor,
conservative, liberal and revolutionary, pious and impious, enemies and friends.

So many contrasts!
And in our society today, we, too, see contrasts:
·         We yearn for peace and yet we go to war.   
·         We want to be a nation of great values, yet we use violence to control.
·         Our culture values vitality yet our bodies are frail.
·         School bullies get away with violence,
yet we know God calls us to love, anyway.
·         Leaders, from which we expect the best behavior,
stoop to the lowest moral responses.
·         Our bellies are full, yet our neighbors are hungry.

Our lives are full of contrasts.
Where is God in this mess?! 

Where, indeed?

In the 1st century (as in the 20th century)
it was not easy to recognize
this shockingly human person, Jesus
the son of Mary,
as the One who was also son of God,
God with us.
In the contrasting drama of his passion,
Jesus forced options. 
He didn’t manipulate behavior,
he stood before others in that tragic gap,
holding a silence, so that a response
could no longer be ambiguous.

His vulnerability revealed his divine power – and the leaders’ choices revealed their values. 
In his own moment of truth, Jesus gave his life. 

Those who were “keeping watch” saw, finally, who he was, God’s Son, with utter clarity.
They saw, along with the Centurion,
the One whose love for us
bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things and endures all things.

These contrasts exposed a Jesus who was
truly human and truly God,
and in that paradox
of the seemingly absurd but really true,
the contrasts shout out loud
that through Jesus, God’s love never ends.[2]

Why Palm / Passion Sunday for us, today?

Because we need to hear again
the enduring narrative of God’s story:
God’s radical life in the person of Jesus,
his unceasing presence with humankind,
and his claim on the divine reign
over the political and social
“powers and principalities.”  

We need to hear again the story that reveals Jesus’ vulnerability as a human
and power as God.
In the midst of our paradoxical time,
we need that story
to captivate our imaginations,
to help us make sense of the world, and
to guide us to recognize God’s presence.

And perhaps, through this drama,
Jesus’ humanity and divinity
“compels us - each - into
our own moment of truth.”[3]

Because, see, he was like us,
a multitude of both/ands at any given moment.
Showing us that
we can adopt what researcher and professor Brene Brown calls,
“a spiritual practice of belonging” –
one that originates from
the paradox of our lives. 

A spiritual practice of belonging means
being able to stand alone
when we are called to do so;
to straddle the tension of yes/and,
knowing we are part of something
bigger than us.

A spiritual practice of belonging means
When we are really struggling with someone,
we can get curious, get closer, ask questions,
try to connect.  Lean in.

·         We see this in the “march for our lives”
for gun control by those whose voice,
in a sense, doesn’t matter
(they are under 18 and not voters)
and yet their voice is what matters
for the future of our nation.
They stood unafraid of the powers of evil.
They resisted, held silence, and all
With the power of Love.
They are leaning in. They are getting closer.

Why Palm/Passion Sunday?
To save us, to save me, from ourselves,
from a world
that teaches that what matters
is mostly “what I want”
rather than seeing the possibility
that meeting my neighbor’s need
will also satisfy my own heart’s deepest desire.  

In the midst of these contrasts
we are compelled by God’s Love.
This is our moment of truth, in the contrasts
of Hosanna and Crucify him. 
In our moment of truth,
Jesus is present in the spiritual reality
of our inextricable connection.

This contrasting drama
draws us into that paradox of
God’s intimate, delicate last breath and
God’s powerful resurrection
in the person of Jesus Christ. 

So here we are, in this thin place,
where distinctions between time & eternity
fall away, where we proclaim how
the death of Jesus is integral to our life in God and where we journey with Jesus in the tension of both/and.

As we journey with Jesus this week,
May we know in the deepest part of our soul
God’s love for us on earth
as it already is in heaven.

Amen



[1] Marcus Borg, The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’s Final Week in Jerusalem, (HarperCollins, San Francisco, 2006), p. 2-4

[2] 1 Cor 13:4-8: Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.


[3] David J. Schlafer, What Makes This Day Different?: Preaching Grace on Special Occasions, (Cambridge, Cowley, 1998), p. 86

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Sermon: Palm & Passion Sunday - Contrasts




A Sermon preached in Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The
Reverend Vicki Hesse, Associate

Palm Sunday (Year A)
8 April 2017
For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.

Listen here
 
Contrasts…
MC Escher[1]and[2] is one of the world’s
most famous graphic artists.
Although he was a sickly child,
and failed the second grade,
 
he excelled at drawing contrasts. 
You have seen his work –
Are the stairs ascending or descending? 
Is the water running uphill or down? 
Are those black birds on a white background or
white birds on a black background? 
 
Famous for his impossible constructions,
his work is inescapably mathematical,
respected for contrasts of  
intellectual and lyrical qualities.

Contrasts are the theme of today’s liturgy.
Marcus Borg[3] reminds us how the scene was set that 
“…spring day in the year 30,” when
two contrasting processions entered Jerusalem.
From the east, Jesus rode a donkey
down the Mount of Olives in a peasant procession.
The followers had journeyed from Galilee,
about a hundred miles to the north.
From the west, Governor Pontius Pilate
entered Jerusalem in an imperial procession.
The followers were enlisted cavalry and soldiers,
brought to reinforce the fortress
overlooking the Jewish temple.

These two processions embodied
the central conflict and contrasts
leading to Jesus’ crucifixion –
his message of Love against
the political message of power and might.

Narrowing our focus, we see Jesus:
the charismatic teacher
riding triumphantly into Jerusalem
who was the betrayed, abandoned
and humbled one facing death.
Our adoration of him gives way to
cries for crucifixion.
His consolation for us gives way to
his anguish and uncertainty before God.
His verbose message of compassion gives way to
an unnerving silence.

These contrasts point us to the One
whose love for us bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things and endures all things. 
These contrasts shout out loud
how God’s love never ends.[4]
These contrasts stress God’s continuous saving acts
throughout Israel’s history and
that of Jesus and his followers.

The drama compels us. 
We are drawn into the violence,
moral outrage and conflict of players
in a tragedy not unlike any TV drama we might see. 
We repeat this drama every year because
the enduring power of this narrative – 
our own narrative - captivates our imaginations. 
Why is that? Because our lives, too,
are fraught with contrasts.
Our culture values vitality yet
our bodies are frail.
School bullies get away with violence yet
we know we are supposed to love anyway.
Our bellies are full yet
our neighbors in Detroit are hungry.
Our lives are fraught with contrasts.

We see this contrast in the person of Jesus:
the source of the conflict and yet
the most calm and collected of all the actors. 
The others – Pilate, the crowd, the soldiers,
the bandits, and the bystanders
are all “beside themselves.” 
Perhaps their conflict with Jesus
reflects their own inner conflict with themselves 
and confronts them with who they really are. 

Is that a confrontation hard for us to bear, too?
We, as a society, yearn for peace and yet
we go to war. 
We want to be a nation of great values, yet
we use violence to control.

Perhaps through this drama, Jesus
“compels each into their own moment of truth.”[5]
What is a moment of truth?
It’s when you must make a decision
that has important consequences. 
It’s when you realize
maybe you have been serving two masters,
“having and eating your cake”
and you have to choose. 
In a moment of truth, your choice
both reveals and creates
the person you really are. 
Can we wonder together…how is Jesus, today,
both revealing and creating us as
a faith community –
grounded in love and hope and faith? 
Is this our moment of truth?

pause
In the contrasting drama of his passion,
Jesus forced options. 
He didn’t manipulate behavior,
he stood before others so that
a response could no longer be ambiguous. 
Their choices revealed their values. 

Perhaps we, too,
know moments of truth in our lives
so filled with tension and so filled with truth that
only the best of who we are can come through
in utter clarity and for greater good... 
We respond with love and compassion.
We pray for peace and healing.
We respect the dignity of our neighbors.

In his own moment of truth, Jesus gave his life. 

Those who were keeping watch saw, finally,
who he was, God’s Son, with utter clarity.


So, we are compelled by Love. 
“Today we say neither the confession of sin
nor the confession of faith.”[6]
And that’s not because it would elongate the service. 
That omission is because although repetitive,
every year, we play the crowd
and confess our sin.
Each time, we accept
Jesus’ radical and essential forgiveness,
and confess our faith. 

This is our moment of truth,
in the contrasts of Hosanna and Crucify him. 
Throughout Holy Week,
from tomorrow, Monday through next Friday,
we will worship together each day
with a service that will draw us ever more deeply
to the full power of Easter. 

Every day, we hear with fresh ears (again!)
how to know & live the Good News of Jesus Christ.

Today’s contrasting drama draws us into
God’s gift of love and forgiveness,
through God’s mighty acts of unceasing love,
God’s intimate, delicate last breath and
God’s surprising resurrection
in the person of Jesus Christ. 

Today’s drama draws us into a thin place,
Like an MC Escher drawing
where distinctions between
time & eternity fall away,
where we proclaim how the death of Jesus
is integral to our Good News.  

May we know nothing but Christ and him crucified.
For through him, God redeems our lives
and the life of the world.
And through him, may we know God’s love
for us on earth as it already is in heaven.
Amen





[3] Marcus Borg, The Last Week: A Day-by-Day Account of Jesus’s Final Week in Jerusalem, (HarperCollins, San Francisco, 2006), p. 2-4

[4] 1 Cor 13:4-8: Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.

[5] David J. Schlafer, What Makes This Day Different?: Preaching Grace on Special Occasions, (Cambridge, Cowley, 1998), p. 86


[6] Ibid.