Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] April 24, 2022 “Water is Alive” Acts 5: 27-32 – Common English Bible The apostles were brought before the council where the high priest confronted them: 28 “In no uncertain terms, we demanded that you not teach in this name. And look at you! You have filled Jerusalem with your teaching. And you are determined to hold us responsible for this man’s death.” 29 Peter and the apostles replied, “We must obey God rather than humans! 30 The God of our ancestors raised Jesus from the dead—whom you killed by hanging him on a tree. 31 God has exalted Jesus to his right side as leader and savior so that he could enable Israel to change its heart and life and to find forgiveness for sins. 32 We are witnesses of such things, as is the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to those who obey him.” Let me give you a little context for this short passage, clearly plucked out of the middle of a larger story. This happened shortly after Pentecost, so we’ve just jumped from Easter to Pentecost to the post-Holy Spirit developing early church. OK. So, it’s been a few months since Jesus was executed and both Rome and the religious authorities are annoyed and perturbed. Probably a little scared, too. They had hoped their violent public demonstration of crucifixion would have ended his movement. It had worked before. But the followers of Jesus claimed that he had been raised from the dead and now those followers were going around preaching and healing. It’s said that people dragged their loved ones out onto the streets on stretchers just hoping that the shadow of an apostle passing by would heal their loved ones. It was working! Their numbers were growing daily. All of this provoked the Chief Priest and Sadducees to arrest the apostles. They were put in jail, perhaps for disturbing the peace or any number of other laws. The next day the Chief Priest summoned the whole High Council together and told the jailers to bring the prisoners in front of them. But when the police went to collect them, the jail was empty – the guards were still posted and the cells were still locked, but according to the story, during the night, an angel had let them out. The apostles were back at the Temple preaching and healing, doing the same things that had gotten them thrown in jail in the first place. So, the police went to arrest them again, but did so “gently” so as not to cause a riot. That’s when today’s story begins. Clearly frustrated, they asked, “Didn’t we give you strict orders not to teach in Jesus’ name?” Peter and the apostles agreed, but answered, “It’s necessary to obey God rather than man.” Can’t you just see steam coming out of the ears of the authorities – straight out of Bugs Bunny. And then the story continues, “When the Council heard that, they were furious and wanted to kill them on the spot.” But Gamaliel, one of the most respected and beloved of all of them, asked for the men to be taken out of the room. He told his fellow councilors, “Be careful what we do to them. Remember Theudas? It wasn’t long ago that he made a splash and got 400 people to join him. He was killed, his followers dispersed, and nothing came of it. And remember Judas the Galilean? He appeared, acquired a following, and then fizzled out – his people scattered to the four winds. So, I’m telling you. Leave these men alone. If what they’re doing is merely human, it will fall apart. But if it is of God, there’s nothing we can do. And we better not be found fighting against God.” The Council agreed. So, the apostles were called back in. They were given a thorough whipping and warned: “Don’t you dare speak in the name of Jesus again!” The apostles walked away overjoyed for the honor of being dishonored. And back they went, every day in the Temple and people’s homes, teaching and preaching Jesus Christ, never letting up for even a minute. Of course, such disobedience could not stand. Things escalated and it’s not long after that we begin hearing stories of Christian martyrs. Stephen was the first. Killed by stoning. The authorities couldn’t think of anything else to do but keep killing them. Which only attracted more attention and continued to add to the movement – including those of us sitting here today. In today’s reading it says: “We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, and yet here you are.” The apostles responded, “We must obey God rather than any human authority.” Archbishop Oscar Romero, now Saint Oscar Romero, was assassinated for urging members of the police and military to disobey the violent and repressive military dictatorship of El Salvador. Preaching on the radio just days before his assassination in 1980, he pleaded, “The peasants you kill are your own brothers and sisters. When you hear a man telling you to kill, remember God’s words, thou shalt not kill. No soldier is obligated to obey a law contrary to the law of God. In the name of God, in the name of our tormented people, I beseech you, I implore you; in the name of God I command you to stop the repression.” This exhortation to stop killing their own people was the last straw. The right-wing government which had already killed plenty of other priests and nuns and thousands of others made sure Romero was assassinated shortly after, right in the middle of saying mass in a hospital chapel. “Men of violence could not accept that a man of peace should ask people to stop killing.”[1] So, what is “God’s law” that we are to obey? It’s a just law. And a “just law is one that upholds human dignity and is directed at the common good.”[2] For St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, laws that fail to do so are unjust and improper. Furthermore, they argue, an unjust law is not binding upon Christian consciences. Movements for civil rights or justice invoke this basic Christian tradition of challenging unjust laws and structures. Right along with Jesus who broke the law when he healed a man on the Sabbath. Or when Jesus intervened on behalf of a woman caught in adultery. The “legal” punishment for her was death. This Earth Day I think of LaDonna Brave Bull Allard and the water protectors on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation in North Dakota. LaDonna was the historic preservation officer for the Standing Rock Sioux tribe. When she heard the news, she alerted people to the impending plans for construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline which would transport oil from North Dakota to Illinois through their reservation and under Lake Oahe, part of the Missouri River. The pipeline was originally supposed to pass near Bismarck but concern was raised over contaminating their drinking water. So, it was moved south to reservation land, with apparently no similar regard for their drinking water or other concerns raised by the tribe. But for the tribe, their alarm was for much more than drinking water. You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Water is life.” It’s an expression that arises from the relationship water protectors have with water – not just to drink but for use in ceremonies and the important role of water in their belief systems. Not only is water life and necessary for living, it is alive. It is our relative and therefore must be treated with respect. The term “water protector” differs from other environmental activists. It grows out of indigenous communities in North America whose philosophy and approach is rooted in a cultural perspective that sees water and land as sacred. As such, the reasons for protection are more holistic and integrated than most modern forms of environmental activism, based more in seeing water as a commodity. And historically, water protectors have been led by or composed of women, because “as water provides life, so do women.” So, at a meeting in LaDonna’s basement about what to do, someone suggested they should start a resistance camp. LaDonna said, “Hey, I’ve got some land,” and thus began the Sacred Stone Camp at the confluence of the Cannonball and Missouri Rivers that soon filled with water protectors from around the globe. This camp and other camps that developed inspired people to gather from more tribes in one place than at any time in more than 100 years. These resistance camps were rooted in ceremonies that included singing songs to water, offering tobacco to water, and praying to the water. They were united by their desire to protect their relative. To which the collaboration of state and industry threw every weapon in their arsenal to destroy. They brought in personnel and equipment from over 75 law enforcement agencies, armed with sound cannons, concussion grenades, armored vehicles, and riot gear. 2016 was a long summer of conflicts. Things escalated when construction workers bulldozed a section of privately-owned land which the tribe had claimed as sacred ground. In September, security workers used attack dogs on demonstrators, which bit at least six people and one horse, reminiscent of Bull Connor’s dogs in 1960s Birmingham. In October, militarized police in tanks cleared an encampment situated on the proposed path of the pipeline. In November, in freezing weather, police used water cannons on protesters for hours, consequently drawing even more significant media attention and led to increasing national and global support for the protests. But industry had the law on their side, with laws often paid for by commercial interests. The water protectors wouldn’t necessarily say they had “God” on their side but they were breaking the law on behalf of the earth itself. As we know, not all laws are just. While Martin Luther King, Jr. sat in jail for disturbing the peace, he reminded the world, “We should never forget that everything Adolph Hitler did was “legal.” It was “illegal” to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler’s Germany. Again, “a just law is one that upholds human dignity and is directed at the common good.”[3] And laws that fail to do so are unjust and improper. Perhaps we should ask, what is the motivation of any law? For example, what was the motivation behind the orders of the High Council for the apostles to stop teaching? And what are the motivations behind laws that restrict handing out food and water to people in line to vote? What are the motivations behind laws that refuse to teach the history of enslaved people? What are the motivations behind laws forbidding the use of the word gay in public school? As followers of Jesus, these are appropriate questions, for when it says in today’s reading, “We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, and yet here you are,” we have to wonder what the apostles meant when they responded, “We must obey God rather than any human authority.” What did they mean? How about this? Anything less than disobedience on behalf of human dignity and the common good would betray our heritage and calling as Christians. Now, talking about obeying God vs. human authority is ripe for demagogues to proclaim their “truth” about God. Yet, is it any less true? If we believed that water is alive, what else could we do but stand with its relatives? As Christians we have a special relationship with water. Of just two sacraments, baptism, water is a vessel of the Holy Spirit. It is through the water of Mary's womb that Jesus was born. Is water a commodity? Or is it the reason we have life? [1] Kellogg Institute for International Studies, introduction of Archbishop Oscar Romero [2] Meghan J. Clark, Why the Christian call to justice supersedes the legal order,” USCatholic.org [3] Meghan J. Clark, Why the Christian call to justice supersedes the legal order,” USCatholic.org
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Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] Easter – April 17, 2022 “What Difference Does It Make?” Luke 24: 1-12 – Common English Bible Jesus Very early in the morning on the first day of the week, the women went to the tomb, bringing the fragrant spices they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they went in, they didn’t find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4 They didn’t know what to make of this. Suddenly, two men were standing beside them in gleaming bright clothing. 5 The women were frightened and bowed their faces toward the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? 6 He isn’t here, but has been raised. Remember what he told you while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the Human One[a] must be handed over to sinners, be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” 8 Then they remembered his words. 9 When they returned from the tomb, they reported all these things to the eleven and all the others. 10 It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles. 11 Their words struck the apostles as nonsense, and they didn’t believe the women. 12 But Peter ran to the tomb. When he bent over to look inside, he saw only the linen cloth. Then he returned home, wondering what had happened. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and all the other women who had been following Jesus since Galilee… they came at dawn on Sunday morning to properly prepare the body of Jesus who had been executed on Friday, but he had to be quickly laid in Joseph’s tomb before sundown. I’m sure they hadn’t slept as they waited for the end of the Sabbath at dawn on Sunday. If they had, it would have only been nightmares replaying in their heads. Just imagine the horrific violence they had just witnessed. So, when morning finally came, these women were ready. But Rome had ordered everyone to stay away. They had even posted soldiers to guard the tomb. Well, no soldier was going to stop these women. They marched to the tomb filled with grief… and rebellion. I think sometimes when we visualize the women who went to the tomb, we imagine them as meek and mild. But these were not submissive, subservient women. They were subversive. For the sake of their loved one, they would not be timid but determined to disobey the soldiers if necessary. I think they’re like the fearless and bold women throughout history who have fought for their communities and loved ones. For example, I can picture Gloria Richardson. During the civil rights movement of the 1960s, very few women were allowed to lead. They had to endure a similar scent of paternalism like the disciples who thought the women were only telling fairy tales, nonsense about Jesus’ resurrection. But Gloria, a force to be reckoned with, led the 1960s movement in Cambridge, Maryland. There’s a famous, iconic, photo of an officer pointing a bayonet at her head. The photo is snapped just as she pushed it away and walked past him, giving him a look of disdain, like “just try it.” I can see her do the same thing to a Roman soldier. Get out of my way. Or women like Prathia Hall who worked for SNCC (Snick), the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. She and her fellow Snick workers were doing voter education in Southwest Georgia in 1962. They were very much an unwelcome presence. She described one hazy day in the town of Sasser. While she and some freedom workers were walking down a dirt road, a pickup truck screeched to a halt in front of them. An extremely agitated man wearing a little tin badge with a bright red face jumped out of his truck and screamed at them: “I’m a deputy marshal. What are you doing?” Prathia answered that they were teaching people about voting. He began screaming curses at the top of his lungs until he was literally foaming at the mouth. Trembling with rage he pulled out his gun and began firing at the ground around their feet. Eventually the group was shoved into a two-room jail, only a little larger than an outhouse, but which smelled just as bad. She said, “We didn’t know if we would be eaten first by the rats and monstrous bugs in this vermin-infested slime pit or taken out in the dark of night and murdered in the woods.” But there was nothing with which they could be charged, so after this intimidation, they were let go. Back to continue their work. Prathia and her colleagues knew they were in danger just talking to people. In fact, the people they were trying to help often shooed them away. They didn’t want any trouble. Only a few churches were willing to allow movement workers to use their buildings for meetings. Too many were burned down shortly after. It was dangerous, life-threatening work. Why, or how, did anyone do it? Freedom-faith, she called it. She was the daughter of a Baptist preacher and she became one herself – one of the first women ordained by the northern Baptists. She worked for SNCC three more years and then enrolled in Princeton where she earned her Master of Divinity, Master of Theology, and PhD. Freedom-faith fired and fueled her fight. The now Rev. Dr. Prathia Hall described how the power of faith was expressed in the songs and prayers of the movement. It transcended the violent reality of our situation, she said – fashioning fear into faith, cringing into courage, despair into defiance, and pain into protest. In 2002 she said, even today “when I am going through a storm, I breathe those hymns and prayers.”[1] Just like the women who witnessed the empty tomb. With their fear fashioned into faith and their pain into protest, they transcended the violent reality of their situation. And experienced resurrection. Of all the difficult beliefs to believe in the Christian faith, resurrection is about the most difficult. But that’s only if we focus on trying to explain the mechanics or focusing on things like whether it was literal or not. I don’t care whether we “believe” it or how it happened. But I do know it’s still happening today. One of the most inspiring stories I heard this Lent comes from First United Church in Oak Park, Illinois – a church that looks a lot like ours. In the tradition of giving something up for Lent, the church decided to give up whiteness, which meant they were abstaining from hymns and music composed or written by white musicians and in its place used only music written by African American and non-white musicians from around the globe. Among the daffodils on the church lawn, they put up a sign that said “Fasting from Whiteness.” It’s a small, symbolic gesture but part of the church’s broader anti-racist mission, meant to make people think. The pastor said, the work of anti-racism in this country is to take whiteness out of the center for other perspectives to have space. It’s not the hatred of white people, it’s not forever banishing Bach and Beethoven. It’s a symbolic act of inclusion for all people. And then all hell broke loose. This benign and simple act was noticed by some in the national media. Online and cable news went apoplectic. In the tradition of the red-faced marshal with his tin badge frothing at the mouth and trembling with anger, this church was seen as a serious threat to white supremacy. The church was slammed with hundreds of hateful and vulgar letters and emails and voicemails a day, including threats against the pastor’s life. Threats of violence against the church meant that while local and federal law enforcement could investigate and secure the church, their Palm Sunday service was only online to ensure the safety of the congregation. This is 2022! Not 1962. Last week! The church members have had only one complaint. Their message should have been bolder.[2] Well, resurrection is God’s answer to that kind of hatred and violence. It’s God’s “no” to the powers of crucifixion. But resurrection wasn’t “accomplished” on what we call Easter morning. Resurrection was begun. Resurrection was unleashed. You get that? Resurrection began that day. God didn’t stop violence or grieving or suffering. God invites us to take the violence and grieving and suffering that happens every day and transform it. As Dr. Hall described it – to fashion fear into faith, cringing into courage, despair into defiance, and pain into protest. That’s resurrection.
And what does that have to do us with? Whenever we care for one another and engage in social justice or direct service, it is God still raising. Resurrection. Our acts of compassion and justice are rooted in this story that refuses to die. A story that has been told on Easter mornings for 2,000 years. A story that doesn’t allow hate to be the last word. It starts there. A story that doesn’t end in despair. It simply starts there. That’s why we keep coming back not as a rehearsal of the past but a very present help in times of trouble. All who yearn for social justice need stories like this so we can remain vigilant and resilient, and a community, a place to root our work because this work is life-long. These women who willing to witness the violence on Friday were the first witnesses to resurrection on Sunday. They were the first preachers of the gospel. They watched his rejection, betrayal, suffering, and crucifixion, and then proclaimed the good news. He lives. And Jesus still lives through his resurrected body. You! The Body of Christ in the world today. Called to act with justice, called to love tenderly, called to serve one another, and called to walk humbly with God. [1] From Hands on the Freedom Plow: Personal Accounts by Women in SNCC, University of Illinois Press, 2012 [2] https://chicago.suntimes.com/news/2022/4/8/23016850/oak-park-pastor-fasting-whiteness-lent-race-diversity Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] April 3, 2022 “Mary the Prophet” John 12: 1-8 – Common English Bible Six days before Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, home of Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 Lazarus and his sisters hosted a dinner for him. Martha served and Lazarus was among those who joined him at the table. 3 Then Mary took an extraordinary amount, almost three-quarters of a pound,[a] of very expensive perfume made of pure nard. She anointed Jesus’ feet with it, then wiped his feet dry with her hair. The house was filled with the aroma of the perfume. 4 Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), complained, 5 “This perfume was worth a year’s wages![b] Why wasn’t it sold and the money given to the poor?” (6 He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief. He carried the money bag and would take what was in it.) 7 Then Jesus said, “Leave her alone. This perfume was to be used in preparation for my burial, and this is how she has used it. 8 You will always have the poor among you, but you won’t always have me.” Mary did four scandalous things in a row. And just to be clear, with a Bible full of Mary’s, this is Mary of Bethany – Mary of the famous duo Mary and Martha, sisters of Lazarus. So, four scandalous things: 1)She loosened her hair in a room full of men, which an “honorable” woman would never do. 2)She poured perfume on Jesus’ feet. The head, maybe. People put oil on the heads of kings – living kings – but never the feet. That was for the dead. 3)She was a single woman rubbing a single man’s feet. That’s something that would never be done, not even among friends. 4)She wiped Jesus’ feet with her hair, which to me, frankly, just seems gross. Inexplicable. An all-around bizarre way to end an all-around bizarre series of very inappropriate acts. Well, there was one more scandalous thing. She spent a year’s wages on that one jar of perfume. Let’s say you make $10,000 a year. She spent your annual salary of $10,000. The cost of living in Bethany was less than it is in San Diego. A version of this same story is told in all four gospels, but with different details: In Matthew and Mark, an unnamed woman anoints Jesus’ head with expensive oil at the home of Simon the Leper during the last days of his life. The disciples were angry at the expense, calling it wasteful. In Luke, a “notorious sinner” comes into the home of Simon the Pharisee and kisses Jesus’ feet and anoints them with her tears and perfumed oil, wiping his feet with her hair. But this is early in Jesus’ ministry, not within days of his execution. In this case, Jesus holds this “notorious sinner” up as a positive example of hospitality in contrast to the rudeness of this host, Simon the Pharisee. This is not related to his death. And as you heard, in John, it is Mary who anointed his feet and wiped them with her hair. Not a stranger, not a notorious sinner. And it’s in the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus – dear friends of Jesus, not Simon somebody. That’s the same Lazarus that Jesus had just a short time ago raised from the dead – after sitting decomposing for four days. On that occasion, concern was expressed about the overwhelming smell from four days of decomposing flesh. At this dinner, mention is made about the overwhelming scent of perfume filling the room, even stinging the nostrils. The odor of death replaced with the odor of love – in preparation for his death. And in this case, only Judas, not the disciples, expressed anger at the expense, which John explained was because he was a thief. I don’t know why this one story is told in so many different ways with such a variation on the details, but this is my favorite version. Mary. She got it. She listened intently, sometimes maybe a little too much for Martha’s taste. You may remember that infamous dinner party. But Mary got it. Jesus had already told The Twelve three times that he would suffer, be rejected and killed at the hands of the authorities in Jerusalem and on the third day rise. They didn’t get it. Peter even scolded Jesus for saying such things. But Mary paid close attention and carefully prepared her response. She pulled together a massive amount of money. When you go to most Indian reservations, it’s hard not to see the extreme poverty. I’ve taken groups of youth and adults to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation 8 times. Pine Ridge lies in the far southwest corner of South Dakota, about a hundred miles from Mount Rushmore. The last time I checked the statistics, it is the third most impoverished county in the country. The other two are also reservations in South Dakota. The only place with a lower life expectancy in the Western Hemisphere is Haiti. Casinos have brought economic activity to many tribes, but Pine Ridge is too remote for much of an impact. The unemployment rate is 80 to 90%. In an area the size of Connecticut, there is one full service grocery and one Indian Health Service hospital. There are clinics in some villages open once a week that will serve the first six clients in line. Behind all the obvious poverty, there is much that visitors can miss at first glance. Beauty, strength, creativity, and resilience. And extraordinary generosity, especially for the dead. Scattered around the reservation are tiny little cemeteries, some with just a dozen or more graves. Many of those graves have absolutely beautiful, elaborate head stones. Among the first things a first-time guest will ask – why would people who are so poor spend so much money on a head stone? How would you answer? An act of love? Careless and wasteful? A sign of respect for the dead? We could debate the wisdom of this expenditure, but I think that’s best left for people to decide for themselves. Mary is using her “head stone” money in advance, while Jesus is still alive. It’s often said that we should have wakes for the living so we can hear how much people love us, not talk about the dead after they’re dead. Mary didn’t want to wait. But yet, why spend so much money? Judas’ motivations may have been faulty but his question wasn’t wrong. Why wasn’t this money given to the poor? But Jesus quickly brushed his concern aside. “Leave her alone,” he said. “She bought it for the day of my burial. You’ll always have the poor with you but you will not always have me.” Mary understood his time was running out. Jesus said it would happen in Jerusalem, and here they were. Bethany is practically a suburb. “You’ll always have the poor.” How many times have you heard that quote? Usually as an excuse to do nothing. Or it’s something about God’s will. It’s an abusive use of scripture. His audience would have known the context of his comment. In Deuteronomy 15:11 it says, “Poor persons will never disappear from the earth. That’s why I’m giving you this command: You must open your hand generously to your fellow Israelites, to the needy among you (OK, take care of your own), and to the poor who live with you in your land,” i.e. immigrants, foreigners, and “those people.” As a faithful Jew, what she spent on that expensive perfume would have been in addition to what she already gave for people who are poor. No, as one of the disciples, not one of the 12, but one of the disciples who paid close attention to Jesus, she was preparing for his death. But her actions were also like those of a prophet. Prophets often did strange and bizarre things. Scandalous things. For example, Ezekiel ate the scroll of the Lord. It was a sign that he carried the word of God around inside of him. Isaiah walked around naked. It was a message against the nations. Jeremiah paid money to buy a field in the middle of a garbage dump, perhaps not so unlike Mary who spent a year’s wages to buy expensive perfume to pour on feet of someone who is alive. Each of these shocking actions was meant to send a message. Most people write prophets off as nuts. But they are acting out a truth that few people can see. While some laugh at prophets, others silently recognize that prophets bring disturbing news from God. Mary, the disciple and prophet, was delivering the news that Jesus’ death was imminent. There’s no time to waste. That extravagant perfume was a disturbing sign of Jesus’ death and called wasteful by some. But that exorbitant amount of money was also news of an extravagant God, which some people find just as wasteful and disturbing. My church in Cleveland was a hub for people in recovery. In addition to nine different AA, CA, and NA groups every week, we had turned our parsonage into a home for people in recovery – a three-quarter house. Halfway between a halfway house and full independence. Dozens of people went in and out of our basement fellowship hall every night but only a few at a time came up the steps to the sanctuary on Sunday. One day at the coffeehouse next door to the church, I recognized a man I’ll call Jerry who went down into the fellowship hall regularly. I waved and said, “Hey, you should come upstairs some time.” He laughed and said, “No, you don’t want the building to fall down!” Not the first time I’d heard that. We kept up this friendly exchange until one day he called me over to his table and we began talking. After about a year Jerry told me I’d see him in church on Sunday. Shocked and pleased, I knew it would never happen. It wasn’t necessary for him to keep concocting excuses why he couldn’t – work, car problems… I understood. He may have wanted to, but Jerry didn’t believe in the God I described to him. A God of love and forgiveness. He didn’t want that. He hated the story of the prodigal son. Unrealistic, he said. Jerry wanted a God he could trust, which meant he believed in a God without mercy. A strict authoritarian figure, maybe to help keep him on his recovery track. He thought things like love and grace would be wasted on someone like him. I liked Jerry. I think he liked me, as geeky as I was next to him. I just wish he could have liked himself. Or at least allowed God to like him. Jesus loved him whether he wanted it or not. But like a lot of our hard-living neighbors, Jerry didn't dare to believe that and perhaps thought it too risky to even hope. Following this meal at the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, Jesus will gather one last time with his friends and followers. Around one more supper table. And there, more shocking than the extravagance of the perfume and shame of Mary’s hair and physical touch, more scandalous than all that, the Messiah will strip down, tie a towel around his waist, lower himself down on the floor, and wash his disciples’ feet. They must have thought he’d lost his mind. And then it made sense. He gave them a new commandment. As I have loved you, love one another. Especially Judas and Jerry. Around that table, at least one of the disciples will argue with him, one will betray him, one will later deny him. But perhaps a few disciples will remember how the prophet Mary already enacted this ritual in advance. Before Jesus told them his new commandment to love, Mary had already shown them how. Mary, the prophet and the beloved disciple who models faithfulness for us: to share generously, to love one another extravagantly, and to participate in healing the deep wounds of the world. And maybe even dare to accept the healing of our own wounds. |
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April 2024
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