April 2, 2023: Palm & Passion Sunday; Holy Week Begins

THE WIDE AND NARROW WAY (Palm/Passion Sunday)

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Isaiah 50:4-9a; Matthew 21:1-11

Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender

‘The Poet Thinks About the Donkey’ by Mary Oliver

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
   leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
   clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

Let’s pray: words of my mouth, meditations of all of our hearts and souls, be acceptable in your sight, O God, Our Rock

Riding on a donkey, to fulfill a prophecy from hundreds of years before. A nursing donkey no less, her colt tied to her mother’s halter. Peasants from the east of Jerusalem, Bethphage, near the Mt. Of Olives, that place of grand transfiguration, just a few months before. 200,000 jammed in a city of 40,000. Cloaks and branches thrown down, All Glory Laud and Honor sung to this very different kind of king, Jesus. Like street theatre! Empire protectors take note, their reports prepared to complete the case against Him.

Trampling boots, bloody swords, Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate in the lead, on top a silver steed, a war horse, rides in from the West, power of Caesar’s Rome wind at his back. Soldiers ready to exact retribution for any infraction of law and order, political or religious. Clubs in hand, weaponized souls and bodies, they itch for violence.

“Hosanna, Save Us” the crowd shouts, as the donkey, the colt and the rider pass. We’ve waited for a Messiah for ever. Hosanna! (Pause)

He did not count equality with God as something to grasp, but emptied himself, becoming a slave, even unto death… He declared, “I Am the Resurrection and I Am Life!” He lifts up His disciples with His words; He heals with His touch; He is absolutely clear that the current way of the world is not of God, it is pagan, stripped of mystery and certainly hope. He shows the wideness of God’s mercy, a gathering for those pressed down by empire’s bullies. His table expands to include all the wretched, broken, lonely folk marked ‘outcast’. He feeds everyone bread and fish; He casts out demons; He heals women’s blood flows; Blind see, lame walk; His baptism of liberation pours out like fine wine, plenty for everyone.

The Wide and Narrow Way

His death warrant secured by His gift of eternal life. He is a threat to empire’s reach, the rich and powerful governance threatened by the urgency of love. There is something about this man: it is why 2,000 years later we remember His death. It is the very heart of mystery, the nature of God exposed, sacrifice and obedience joined.

His death ushers in a new way of life. And continues to strike against the powers that be. Think about this with me. Slaves in this country were not allowed to read or hear the gospels’ story in church for fear of uprising. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his ‘I’ve Been to the Mountain Top’ speech in church 50 years ago, the night before he was murdered by empire. Poor peasants in Central America are set free by liberation theology. Feminist Christians sit at this man’s feet and find freedom for thought and voice. GL BTQ communities gather to hear the simple message, “For God so loved the world…” a word that includes rather than destroys. He became the lowly of the lowlies, lifted up on an instrument of destruction and hate, His death politically expedient, patriarchal religion exposed for its lies, the marriage of cross & crown defeated.

somehow in the grand plan of salvation, God raises Him up to new life, which lifts us all up to new life, when we believe. A radical promise in the moment of greatest despair, the empire of God rejoices. But first it weeps, earthquake rumbles, the cloth protecting the holy of holies rent from top to bottom, angels rage across the skies. A cosmic death, the final scapegoat. Once and for all, the Lamb is slain.

The Wide and Narrow Way Amen

The UnBinding

THE UNBINDING

Ezekiel 37:1-14; Psalm 130; John 11:1-48

Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender

It is a matter of displacement, our Biblical story. From the very beginning in Eden, we wandered away from home, far away. In Egypt, in the wilderness, Babylon, Roman occupation, hope of resurrection a glimmer on the horizon. The Presence of Jesus calls us back from our exiles, returns us to the household of the Trinity, clean and forgiven, set free from any bondage we may have generated on our own. We live in this community unbound, ready to unbind any who need it. Some of us believe in the concept of resurrection and some of us believe in the actual fleshly kind. No matter, really, for the Holy Spirit has gathered us together to cling to one another in hope and faith and disbelief, all at the same time! I am a Martha, up in Jesus’ face demanding answers. Some of you are like me too. Others are like Mary, kneeling at His feet, taking in His every word.

It is the 5th Sunday in Lent, next Sunday begins Holy Week. The through line of Jesus’ life is almost complete, death on a cross. Tumult reaches its apex, the religious powers gather in nightly meetings. What has this man done now? The first question.

His signs: healing, feeding, touching, loving, are so attractive! His Words: I AM the resurrection. He embodies this truth but He does not fit our bill of what a Messiah should be! Who is turning His way? Have we lost more members? When are we going to take Him out? He’s going to get us in trouble with the Romans, and we know they come down hard.

“We cannot go back through Judea again,” the disciples moan. “They were ready to stone You last time, there is no stopping them now.” Underneath their words, their vulnerability, their fear. If they take Him, they’ll take us too. Unless we turn against or deny Him…Tensive moments of face to face encounters with Jesus and the crowds make them jittery. Will their faith hold? Glory a dim comfort.

“If you had only been here,” Martha cries aloud, implicit critique in her words and her tone. She loves Jesus, no question about it. Martha, Mary and Lazarus were dear friends, Jesus had stayed with them before. They had deep theological conversations over a good dinner and a jug of wine, laughter part of their delight in each other’s company. Her disappointment freshly generated at her brother’s death, she grieves loud, standing toe to toe with Her Messiah. “God will give You anything You ask for, so why did You not stop my brother’s death? Why did you dally, playing a wait game? Now he’s gone, he’s really gone, it’s been 4 days, his soul has separated from his body. That’s it,” her aching voice rising.

“Do you believe these bones can live?” (Pause)

Martha moves from her general confession, “I know he will rise again on the last day,” to a full-blown statement of faith: “Yes, Lord, I believe that You are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming INTO the world.” This statement made, tears running down her face, before her brother is raised from the dead. Before.

Jesus’ self-proclamation, ‘I AM the Resurrection’ echoes loud in her ears and soul.

Mary, along with a sizable crowd, comes into the frame and unlike Martha, falls at Jesus’ feet, tears running down her face. “If only you had been here” her lament spoken in a soft tone. If only… Jesus gazes out at the crowd, the mourners who had lost their friend, tears fresh, sorrow raw, really raw. He is deeply moved, and the tears well up. The Messiah weeps for His friend, His love an ache, grief rises right along with Martha and Mary and everyone else, His humanity on full display. They get closer to the cave where Lazarus has been laid.

The Unbinding…

Martha, Do you believe? I promised you the glory of God, are you ready? Jesus asks. He prays to the Father and then He commands, “Lazarus, come out!” A signifier of God’s promises, the body gets up, even bound, and Lazarus stumbles into the arms of his sisters. This time, the bones live, the glory of God manifest in the precursor to Jesus’ imminent death. For by raising Lazarus, Jesus signed His own death warrant. He knew what He was doing, He binds Himself to the cross. The community gathers round Lazarus, carefully undoing the beautiful funeral cloth to set him free. For now at least, for Lazarus will die again, this time permanently. But not before there is another dinner party at Bethany, just 6 days later, where Mary anoints Jesus’ feet with precious oil, another sign of His impending doom. As the religious leaders plot to not only kill Jesus but Lazarus as well for ‘many came to believe because of him’, Jesus and His friends prepare for a triumphal march, a borrowed donkey, branches wave.

The Unbinding

Can these bones live? A scramble of thoughts race through our minds. Of course not, it takes sinews, muscles, veins and capillaries, a brain, a breath, 9 months in the womb, for heaven’s sake. Can these bones live? Well, maybe. I need a resurrection right now in my life. Can these bones live?

The world is not as it should be - we ache for that world right over there where no one is bound, no one is at the mercy of another, no one is starving, no bombs are falling, no fear of a stray bullet if we go downtown. Jesus’ death is a judgment of the status quo, expedient to maintain order, yet so corrupt in church & state bounded.

Can these bones live?

The crucial question? Do you believe? What does it mean to believe? Here is how Denise Levertov, a Christian poet, who lived here in Seattle, says it in her poem, On Belief in the Physical Resurrection:

It is for all

‘literalists of the imagination,’

poets or not,

that miracle

is possible and essential.

Are some intricate minds

nourished on concept,

as epiphytes flourish

high in the canopy?

Can they

subsist on the light,

on the half

of metaphor that’s not

grounded in dust, grit,

heavy

carnal clay?

Do signs contain and utter,

for them

all the reality

that they need? Resurrection, for them,

an internal power, but not

a matter of flesh?

For the others,

of whom I am one,

miracles (ultimate need, bread

of life,) are miracles just because

people so tuned

to the humdrum laws:

gravity, mortality-

can’t open

to symbol’s power

unless convinced of its ground,

its roots

in bone and blood.

We must feel

the pulse in the wound

to believe

that ‘with God

all things

are possible,’

taste

bread at Emmaus

that warm hands

broke and blessed.

The Unbinding

Faith in Christ requires us to sit with the stories, unsure of what we believe or frankly can understand. His embodied Presence, still with us through the power of the Holy Spirit, draws us in even without all the answers. Like Martha, we make our confession and our roving minds say, ‘really? Bones and all?’ (Pause)

We are formed by His story - birth, life, death, resurrection - our call to faith rooted in a world created for relationships. Even as we move toward the cross, knowing full well what awaits, we call on the power of God, no less, to lift us up, to raise us to know, see and understand Her glory found in Her Son, our Savior. In gratitude to Christ, we live unbound. Amen