"MEMORIAL DAY - WITH GOD ON OUR SIDE"

“MEMORIAL DAY – WITH GOD ON OUR SIDE”

            I’m always ambivalent about celebrating Memorial Day.  I give thanks for those who have given their lives in this country and in other countries so that we might have some semblance of self-government and so that we might keep working towards that best idea of America:  that all people are created equal.  Yet, I am also aware that most of our wars have been based in greed rather than in equality.  Also, I am a conscientious objector who served my country during the Vietnam War.   This is my ambivalence on that war – as we look back, it clearly did not have a noble purpose.  We fell into it in a fog of anti-communism and a desire to control the “Asian menace.”  Now we are trade partners with Vietnam, headquartered in the former enemy capitol of Hanoi.  It reminds me of the Bob Dylan anti-war song of 1964 “With God on Our Side,” and here are the first two stanzas:

Oh my name it ain't nothin'
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I was taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that land that I live in
Has God on its side

Oh, the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh, the country was young
With God on its side

            I remember sitting beside Perry Poole in junior high in the segregated schools of Helena, Arkansas.  Our science teacher had us pass around a butterfly specimen, asking us to feel how delicate yet how powerful their wings were.  I remember giving it to Perry and telling him how amazing it was.  His reply was that he could not feel its delicacy because his hands were so callused from working on the family farm.  I was stunned by that – I did chores at home, but nothing like that.   Later on, in order to get out of that life, Perry joined the army and was killed in the Vietnam War.    I don’t know if Perry thought that he was fighting in a noble cause, or if he was just doing his duty as an army soldier, or if he was doing both, but I have thought so often that he gave his life for an ignoble cause. 

            I am reading the excellent biography of Frederick Douglass by David Blight, and in it, Blight traces Douglass’ journey from pacificist/Garrisonian/nonpolitical abolitionism to political and a-willingness-to-go-to war stance in order to end slavery.  In another context, I was reading the 19^th chapter of Revelation, where the Second Coming of Jesus is portrayed in these terms:   “From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron;  he will tread the wine press of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty.  On his robe and on his thigh he has a name inscribed, “King of kings and Lord of lords.”

As a white Southerner, raised in the neo-slavery of white supremacy, I can truthfully say that I don’t believe that the legal slavery of the pre-1860 days would have ever ended without the terrible swift sword of the Civil War.  Julia Ward Howe’s song using these words from Revelation 19 may have been true.

            I think about this a lot these days because of the presidency of Donald Trump.   Like so many others, I am desperately hoping that he will lose the presidential election of 2020.  At this point, I do not know that he will.  I read a NYT article recently that indicated that Nancy Pelosi is working hard to make sure that Trump suffers a massive defeat in 2020, because she is afraid that if he loses in a close election, he will not yield the presidency, challenging the legitimacy of the election.  At that point, it will be up to the courts and maybe even the military to determine the future of our country.  In the meantime, he seems to be doing everything that he can to undermine our democratic institutions.

            So, in my ambivalence about Memorial Day and about nonviolence and the efficacy of violence in service of social justice, I want to give thanks to my father, my adopted father Gay Wilmore,  my father-in-law Herman Leach, and to so many others who have served our country.  I also want to thank people like Fannie Lou Hamer, Vernon Dahmer, Elijah Lovejoy, John Brown, Martin Luther King, Jr.,  Malcolm X and so many others like Perry Poole who have given their lives for our country, even on these shores.  Perhaps the best that I can do with this ambivalence is to turn back to Bob Dylan’s art in the closing verse of “With God On Our Side:”

So now as I’m leavin”

I’m weary as Hell

The confusion I’m feelin’

Ain’t no tongue can tell

The words fill my head

And fall to the floor

That if God’s on our side

He’ll stop the next war.

"WHICH SIDE ARE WE ON?"

“WHICH SIDE ARE WE ON?”

            This is a big week for me in that Caroline’s and my 45^th wedding anniversary was May 18.  We got married in Ed Loring’s back yard, just two blocks from where we now live.  Ed and Caroline’s longtime mentor, Sandy Winter, presided at the ceremony on a hot Saturday.  Our wedding was unusual at the time in that it was outside, and the food for our reception was covered dishes brought by those attending the wedding.  Our kids called it a “hippie wedding,” when they were young, and I guess that it was!  Both Caroline and I had hair down to our shoulders, and the total cost was $400 (mainly for the beer and the meat that we provided for the lunch beforehand).   The gathering lasted 12 hours – we had lunch before the ceremony, and then people partied on into the night (long after Caroline and I had gone to sleep).  It has been a great journey so far, and as Caroline put it, quoting the great Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes fame), “the days have been just packed!”

            This has also usually been a big week in American history, because the Supreme Court often starts announcing many of its decisions from the cases it heard in the previous year.   On our anniversary date in 1896, SCOTUS decided 8-1 that “separate but equal” was the law of the land in Plessy v.  Ferguson.  As we all know, they meant “separate and unequal,” and they gave the legal cover for neo-slavery to be re-established in the nation.    Indeed, in 1898, by a 9-0 vote, they rejected a case from black parents in Augusta, Georgia, asking for equal funding and facilities for the segregated schools there.  Though they said “separate but equal,” they definitely meant “separate and unequal.” 

            It would take 58 years for SCOTUS to begin to rectify that 1896 decision.  In a 9-0 decision announced on May 17, 1954, they declared that “separate but equal” was unconstitutional and that the neo-slavery established by that decision now needed to be dismantled.  That decision in Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas, is still being adjudicated, because white resistance to education of people of color is deep and long and wide in American history.  It would be 11 more years before a strong blow to neo-slavery would be passed into law.  The Voting Rights Act of 1965 began to erode some of the foundations of neo-slavery, and we have wrestled with that ever since then.  Indeed, in June of 2013, SCOTUS sought to move us back closer to neo-slavery by eviscerating the Voting Rights Act by a 5-4 vote.  If that Act had still been in force, Stacey Abrams would be governor of Georgia right now.  Fortunately for us, Stacey is well aware of this and is hard at work to rectify it.

The fundamental issue is whether we will return to neo-slavery and its building up of white supremacy – that still hangs in the balance.

            This has also been big week because it has seen the war on women resume in full force.  All the FGFBM laws that have been passed last week (and surely more to come) are a direct attack on the fundamental personhood and rights of women.  The Forced Gestation and Forced Birth Movement has been gaining ground, and now it hopes to force women to be pregnant and to have babies under the guise of the sanctity of life.  There is no greater sign of the hypocrisy and real intent of these laws than the state of Alabama outlawing abortion on one day and executing a prisoner the next – so much for the sanctity of life.  Similar to the war of white supremacy, we are now in a war on women, and let us make no mistake.  There is no intention to preserve life in these new laws – there is only the intention to oppress women and control their bodies.  If there were intention to enforce the sanctity of life, we would see meaningful parental leave, universal health insurance, day care for all, the end of the death penalty, and many other steps.

            And, let us make no mistake here – we are in a battle for our lives.  There is no neutral ground, there are no nuanced positions.  We are either going to seek to destroy white supremacy, or we are not.  We are either going to support the full humanity of women, or we are not.  As the old union song, written by Florence Reese, used to put it in the organizing wars in the coal mines of Kentucky:

“Which side are you on boys

Which side are you on?

Which side are you on boys

Which side are you on?

They say in Harlan County

There ain’t no neutrals there,

You’ll either be a union {man}

Or a thug for J. H. Blair.”

"ASIAN-AMERICAN MONTH"

“ASIAN-AMERICAN MONTH”

            In the early 90’s at Oakhurst, we began emphasizing the different cultural heritages in our membership.  One May I recall watching some women of Japanese heritage and some women of Korean heritage work together on wrapping a kimono dress for one of the Japanese women to wear in worship.  One of the women of Japanese heritage commented to me:  “I bet you did not know that our ancestors were mortal enemies, yet here we are working together on this Japanese dress.”  I had sort of a vague memory of that history, but since I have concentrated so much on black/white dynamics, I was not well versed on that particular Asian history.  Then I did remember the 1905 invasion of Korea by Japan, and as I was thinking about that, the woman added along the lines that I was thinking:  “Yes, I know that you are wrapped up in black and white racism, but there are other cultures with some of the same history.”  Point well taken.

            In American history, we have often made people of Asian heritage invisible and irrelevant, concentrating our energies on the status of black/white issues.  I was reminded of this last Friday on the 150^th anniversary of the linking of the transcontinental railroad in what was then Utah Territory.   That railroad was built by mostly Chinese workers, though there were a few Anglos and African-Americans.   As Ron Takaki put it in his fine book on the cultural heritages of the USA (“A Different Mirror”), by the time that the railroad was complete in 1869, 90% of the work force was Chinese – the construction of the Central Pacific Railroad from the West was a Chinese achievement.   Their reward for that astonishing accomplishment was much lower wages and later discrimination and anti-immigrant legislation.  In 1882 Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, which virtually ended Chinese immigration to the USA for many decades.

            That exclusion and invisibility has not ended.  Over the many celebrations of the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad, the Chinese contributions to it were never recognized until this year.  Secretary of Transportation Elaine Cho, of Chinese heritage herself, recognized the 12,000-15,000 Chinese immigrants who had made the railroad possible.   She is also the spouse of Mitch McConnell, whose leadership has done so much to deny workers’ rights in his home state of Kentucky and in the nation.  The main thanks for this year’s recognition came from the Chinese Railroad Workers Descendants Association, which has worked for years for us to acknowledge the labor and skill of the Chinese workers.

            The official celebration of Asian-American Heritage began in May, 1979.  It began as a week of celebration and has now expanded to a month.  The month of May was chosen to commemorate the immigration of the first Japanese to the USA in 1843 and to remember the work of the Chinese workers on the Transcontinental Railroad.  In the evolving American system of race, people of Asian descent have not reached “ethnic” status as people of Hispanic/Latinx have.  So, they are still classified as a “race,” even though no one really fits under that oppressive word, designed by Anglo men to be able to exploit labor and lands as those who were on top of the racial ladder.  One of the ironies of this racial coding is that Asian-Americans often beat other Americans on the standardized test scores.  That reality has led to an interesting and important court case making its way through the federal system, being pushed and pumped by the Trump Administration.    A conservative group, Students For Fair Admission, sued Harvard University (Yale watching closely), indicating that students of Asian heritage were discriminated against in Harvard’s admission policies.  A federal judge heard the case last fall, and the decision has yet to be announced.  Whatever the decision is, it will be appealed, and this case is likely headed to the SCOTUS, if SCOTUS will have it.   Many of its opponents believe that at its heart, it intends to end affirmative action law in all areas for African-Americans and Hispanic Americans (and women, who have benefitted from it the most). 

            So, great accomplishments and rich histories for those Americans of Asian heritage – from Maya Lin to Steven Chu to Michelle Kwan to Yo-Yo Ma to many others – to be remembered and celebrated in this month.  Yet, the powerful monster of race hovers over us and in us, and those of this heritage are in the middle of it, as are all of us.  Let us work towards a time where we see one another as siblings, where we believe that the powerful idea that all people are created equal applies to all of us. 

"OUGHTA BE A WOMAN - MOTHER'S DAY"

 "OUGHTA BE A WOMAN’ - MOTHER'S DAY

            Mother’s Day rolls around again this Sunday, and as with most things in American culture, it is complex.  Its roots are to be found in white women’s responses to the carnage of the Civil War.   After the Civil War there were several attempts to start a Mother’s Day to honor the fallen sons and fathers of the War and to work so that war would be abolished.  In 1868 Anna Reeves Jarvis started a committee in her native West Virginia to push for an annual Mother’s Friendship Day – it didn’t get very far.  Another more famous woman sought to start a Mother’s Day tradition in 1870.  That year Julia Ward Howe, author of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” wrote a Mother’s Day Proclamation, calling on the women of the North and the South (and indeed the entire world) to unite for peace.  This is part of that proclamation:

            “Arise, then, women of this day!  Arise, all women who have breasts,

            Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

            Say firmly:  “We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,

            Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,

                        For caresses and applause.

            Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able

            To teach them of charity, mercy and patience.

            We, the women of one country, will be too tender to those of another country

            To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.

            From the bosom of the devastated Earth, a voice goes up with our own:

            It says: “Disarm!  Disarm!  The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”

            This proclamation represents quite a journey from Howe, who wrote these words for the Union Army:  “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!  He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.  He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:  His truth is marching on.”  That shift in Howe will be a story for another day!   

            Mother’s Day did not catch on in that era.  It would be left to Anna Reeves Jarvis’ daughter Anna Jarvis to take up the case for Mother’s Day in the early 1900’s.  Like Mother’s Day itself, she had a very complicated relationship with her mother – look it up to find out more!  She felt that she had not done enough to honor her mother, so she worked for a Mother’s Day to honor her mother and all mothers, a Mother’s Day devoid of the earlier anti-war emphasis.  It worked – in 1910, the governor of West Virginia issued the first governmental Mother’s Day proclamation, and in 1914 President Woodrow Wilson declared it to be a national day of observance (he would lead us into World War I three years later).   Ever since then, Mother’s Day has been powerful and complex.  It quickly became commercialized, and indeed Anna Jarvis sued many companies over their moves to sell products with Mother’s Day.  She obviously lost that battle.

            As I have written before, I don’t have a great problem with Mother’s Day because I was raised by women - my single mother Mary Stroupe and my great-great aunt Bernice Higgins, whom I called “Gran.”  Because of this experience, I’ve come to see Mother’s Day as an opportunity to thank those people, especially the women who have raised us – mommas, grandmas, aunts, teachers, coaches, youth leaders, ministers, and others.  Not all of us are mothers, but we’ve all had mothers and other women who have raised us, and we’re asked to give thanks for them.   We’re asked to give thanks to those who have helped us to find our true north:  we are loved and lovely, even when we feel unloved and unlovely.  Thanks also to the great woman in my life, Caroline Leach, who has taught me this in so many ways.

            I was gratified when I came to Oakhurst to find that people in the African-American tradition had this same approach.  In some Anglo churches, the celebration of Mother’s Day seems sentimental and trite, but in the African-American tradition, it is powerful because it reminds us that we are not motherless children, but also because it reminds us of the cost of that motherly loving.  It reminds us also that we all - women and men -need to share motherly love with one another, whether we have biological children or not.  In honor of Mother’s Day, I want to close with a song by Sweet Honey in the Rock, written by Bernice Johnson Reagon, based on a poem by June Jordan:

                        “Oughta Be A Woman”

Washing the floors to send you to college, staying at home so you can feel safe,

What do you think is the soul of her knowledge,

What do you think that makes her feel safe

Biting her lips and lowering her eyes, to make sure there’s food on the table,

What do you think would be her surprise, if the world was as willing as she’s able

Hugging herself in an old kitchen chair, she listens to your hurt and your rage,

What do you think she knows of despair, what is the aching of age

The fathers, the children, the brothers turn to her – everybody white turns to her

What about her turning around alone in the everyday light

There oughta be a woman can break down, sit down, sit down

Like everybody else call it quits on Mondays, blues on Tuesday, sleep until Sunday

Down, sit down, break down, sit down

A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh, courage that cries out at night

A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh, bravery kept out of sight

A way outa no way is too much to ask,

Too much of a task for any one woman

"THANK YOU, THOMAS"

“THANK YOU, THOMAS”

            The Risen Jesus makes many appearances in the four Gospel accounts, and in John 20, which was part of yesterday’s lectionary readings, he makes three appearances.   The first was to Mary Magdalene, who is the primary witness to the Resurrection.  The second comes to the disciples who are huddled in fear in a room that same night – the males have chosen not to believe Mary when she tells them: “I have seen the Lord!”  They are now stuck in Jerusalem, abandoned by their crucified teacher, afraid to make a move.  Will they be arrested next?  Will they be crucified next?

            Then Risen Jesus appears to them in the room, bringing a profound greeting in a fear-dominated, violence-dominated, money-dominated world:  “Peace be with you!”  It is great and freeing news – at the center of their world is not Rome, but the Risen Jesus.  John’s Gospel makes a point of telling us that Thomas was not present at this second appearance of the Risen Jesus.  When the other disciples tell him, as Mary had told them previously, “We have seen the Lord!”, Thomas responds with words that have marked him forever:  “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hand, unless I can put my finger in his side, I will not believe.”  Thomas has come to be known as “Doubting Thomas,” because he is so skeptical.  He knows that things like Resurrection and new life don’t happen in our kind of world.  At best, all that “Resurrection talk” is only about life after death, and at worst, it’s just Marx’s idea of the opiate of the people, to help us deal with all the deluge and debris of life – violence and greed and domination and injustice.   Thomas knows that death rules over Jesus – it’s over.  Jesus is dead, crucified by Rome.  Rome rules – Hail, Caesar!

            And, we probably should not be chastising Thomas for his doubts – we should be thanking him instead.  Because he speaks for us too.  We should be thankful that the Biblical narrative is not an heroic saga of women and men who are always strong, always on target:  the biblical view is that the first disciples were a lot like us.  We long to believe in a Risen Jesus, but our hearts and imaginations are captured by death.  Like Thomas, our inability to believe is not a matter of rebellion.  It’s a matter of the way we see the world – how we see ourselves, how we see others, how the power systems work, how we see reality.  Like Thomas, the power of death makes us unable to believe in a Risen Jesus, unable to believe in a new order.  We long to hear “Peace be with you,” but we believe “Peace won’t be with you, friends – it’s dominate or be dominated.”  Thomas lives where we live, and so we should be saying “Thank You, Thomas,” instead of “Doubting Thomas.”

            But, the story tells us that the Risen Jesus is coming for Thomas.  John’s Gospel tells us that Jesus appears for a third time a week later, and this time Thomas is in the room where it happens.  The Risen Jesus knows the struggles of Thomas, and he knows our struggles.  The Risen Jesus invites Thomas into this new world of the Resurrection, just as he invites us too.  He appears to Thomas not to chastise him or to ridicule him.  He appears to Thomas so that Thomas can believe, so that Thomas can enter into this new worldview of the Resurrection.  Risen Jesus is not asking Thomas to skip over the Crucifixion, nor is he asking Thomas to leave the pain of the world behind.  Rather he is asking him to have a new vision in a world of deep pain and injustice.   The Risen Jesus invites Thomas into a new way of seeing himself, a new way of seeing the world.  “Come on Thomas, touch the marks of the nails here – peace be with you, my brother.”  And, Thomas does – he too comes to believe in the power of the Resurrection.

            And, of course, we want some of that stuff too, especially in these days.  We want some of that Risen Jesus – we want to recognize him standing right in front of us, too.  We long to live in a vision of life dominated by grace and love and justice, but we carry Thomas in us too.  Death is so powerful, the pain is so deep, and the world is so disappointing.  Like Thomas, we find ourselves saying:  “Unless we can touch the mark of the nails….”

            This Biblical story reminds us that Jesus knows our stories and knows our struggles – we are so much like Thomas.  We’re Doubting Thomas, Unrecognizing Mary and Denying Peter  - we long to believe in life, but we are captured by death.  The Easter story reminds us each year that the Risen Jesus is coming for us, coming to us from the margins to invite us into a new way of seeing ourselves, a new way of seeing others, a new way of seeing the world.   I’ll visit some of those places next week, but for now, let’s thank Thomas and be on the lookout for the Risen Jesus standing right in front of us.

"AT THE MARGINS - JESUS AND RESURRECTION"

“AT THE MARGINS – JESUS AND RESURRECTION”

            One of the oddities of the Resurrection narratives in all four Gospel accounts is that the women disciples are the primary witnesses to the Resurrection.   Though the names of the women differ a bit, all four Gospels agree that the women are primary.  Why is this so odd?  Because the women are at the margins – in Jewish society, their testimony in court is not considered valid unless corroborated by a male.  So…….that creates a big problem for the followers of Jesus – the primary witnesses to his Resurrection are unreliable from the cultural point of view.  This situation also points us to the underlying truth of these accounts – if it had not happened this way, why would patriarchal writers include these accounts, which themselves and their culture will consider to be “fake news.”

            There is also another fundamental truth underlying these accounts of the Resurrection of Jesus – they are in line with his ministry.   His ministry before he was given the death penalty was to people on the margins – those deemed unworthy, unclean, unloved and unlovely.   One of the reasons that the Roman Empire executed him was that many of those on the margins were beginning to believe his message that the primary definition of their lives came not from Rome but from God.  From Rome’s point of view, those are dangerous thoughts, and they executed Jesus as a revolutionary, using the terroristic tool of crucifixion.

            All of Jesus’ followers seemed to think that it was over.  All the male disciples deserted him at the Cross – only the women disciples stayed with him through death.   The women even stayed loyal to him after death – they come to his tomb as soon as possible to anoint his body for burial.  The culture interpreted this as women’s work, but the men could have come.  Fear, shock, and disappointment held the men back, but it did not deter the women.  And the Risen Jesus chooses to appear to these women, to those on the margins.  Some commentators seek to dismiss the power of this metaphor of Resurrection at the margins by indicating that the only reason that the women were the primary witnesses was that they were at the right place at the right time.  There are two problems with this attempt to diminish the witness of the women and the emphasis on Resurrection at the margins of life.  First, as we see in all four Gospels, the Risen Jesus seems able to appear whenever he chooses to appear – he appears to the folks in the Upper Room, to Thomas, to the women on the road, to the travelers to Emmaus, to Peter and the other males who are out fishing.  No, the Risen Jesus chooses to appear first to those on the margins:  the women disciples.  There’s a second and even more definitive answer to this desire to downplay the significance of the witness of those on the margins, and we see it in John’s account of the Resurrection.

            In John 20, Mary Magdalene comes alone to the tomb of Jesus – she is the only disciple mentioned in all four gospels who comes to the tomb of Crucified Jesus.  She’s not looking for a risen Jesus – she comes to anoint a dead body.  When she sees the stone rolled away from the tomb, she is afraid that the body has been stolen, and she runs to get some of the males to come back with her.  Peter and the “disciple whom Jesus loved” (presumably John) race to the tomb and find it empty.  So, these two male disciples are at the tomb with Mary, but Jesus chooses not to appear to them.  They leave, and Mary is left alone at the tomb.  It is then that Jesus chooses to appear to Mary – he CHOOSES not to appear to the men, but he CHOOSES to appear to one at the margins, a disciple named Mary.  We must always keep this fundamental aspect of the Resurrection story in front of us – the Risen Jesus chooses to announce his Resurrection at the margins of life.  The gritty and uncomfortable work of his earthly ministry continues in his resurrection – at the margins of life.

            Mary is no beatific here – she doesn’t immediately recognize the Risen Jesus.  She sees him and talks with him, but her perceptual apparatus is still captured by death – she knows that the world does not work this way.  Only when he calls her name “Mary” does she recognize him.  She runs to tell the other disciples, women and men:  “I have seen the Lord!”   And the tradition and the church has sought to dismiss the importance of her testimony ever since. 

            But, as we begin this Easter season, let us linger a bit with this fundamental truth of the Easter story.  Jesus lived his life and did his ministry on the margins – the church has often tried so hard to deny that.  Yet, his Resurrection reminds us of that truth.  The life-changing and society-changing event of the church, the Resurrection of Jesus the Jew – it happened on the margins of life.  If we’re wondering where to find the Risen Jesus in our day, if we’re looking to hear the Risen Jesus call our names, let us join the Risen Jesus and Mary and many others at the margins.  That’s where we’ll find Jesus, and that’s where we’ll find our lives.

"RIDE ON, KING JESUS"

“RIDE ON, KING JESUS!”

            Ride on, King Jesus!   Those words from the African-American spiritual are about as apt a description of Holy Week as there is.    The week begins with the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem.  In John’s Gospel, Jesus has already been to Jerusalem several times, but in the other three gospels, this is Jesus’ first glimpse of the Holy City.  The disciples are excited and thrilled and hopeful as Jesus enters Jerusalem, and why shouldn’t they be?  He has healed their bodies and their hearts, and now they are going to the capitol of Judaism – maybe this is the time!  Maybe this is the time when God will overthrow the hated Romans and the corruption of the despised religious leaders.  Next year, Jerusalem!  And now, it is this year!  Ride on, King Jesus, and so he does!

            So begins the drama of Holy Week – in excitement and high hopes.  Yet this story is also filled with resistance and struggle.  Jesus rides on into Jerusalem in this atmosphere of liberation and into a belief system that lifts up violence and domination and death.  This week encourages us to enter into that drama, entering from whatever perspective we bring and entering in with whatever agenda we have.  Some of us bring the high hopes and excitement of Palm Sunday.  Some of us bring the puzzlement and confusion of Jesus’ refusal to overthrow the Romans.  Some of us bring the struggles of life – trying to figure out why Jesus seems so intent on offering redemption and life to everyone, even the dreaded enemies.  Some of us bring the disappointment of Maundy Thursday, when Jesus has an opportunity to strike the blow for freedom – instead he yields so easily to arrest.   Ride on, King Jesus – by the way, where exactly are you going?

            The drama of Holy Week – some of us know the defeat of execution, of Good Friday.  We’ve known sorrows all our days, and this day of crucifixion touches those places of defeat and sorrow and suffering.  Were we there when they crucified our Lord?  Yes, many of us were, and we continue to be there, with our sons and fathers and husbands locked up in mass incarceration, with many of us trapped in a cycle of drug abuse and homelessness and domestic violence.  Yes, we know that defeat, we know that suffering.  We were there when they crucified our Lord.  Ride on, King Jesus!  Well, maybe, but are you sure that you know where you are going? 

            The drama of Holy Week is our story and God’s story.  Ride On, King Jesus!  And he does ride on, not to the throne of glory, or even to the throne of Rome.  Rather he is given the death penalty by the state, as it is revealed to him and to us, that we would rather execute Jesus than be transformed by his love.  After the cheering crowds of Palm Sunday, he ends up alone and feeling abandoned.  The Gospel accounts indicate that all the male disciples flee in terror when Jesus is arrested – only the women disciples stay with him. Although Peter tries as hard as he can to keep his promise to follow Jesus to the end, even the Rock of the church decides to flee before the end arrives.  We may not holler out “Crucify him!” but we definitely indicate that he is such a disappointment to us.  Ride on, King Jesus – or maybe just ride on out of here.

            This is the drama of Holy Week – we’re longing for love, but we’re believing in death.  That’s the truth revealed to us in Holy Week – the truth that we do not have our acts together.  The truth revealed to us is that we’re always scrambling to find that magic formula that will make us feel better, whether its guns or money or race or sex or sexual orientation or nation or control of women’s bodies – the list seems endless, but they all end up looking like and sounding like Holy Week.  We’re longing for love but believing in death.

            Ride on, King Jesus – and he does.  Not to the throne of Rome but to the death penalty.  It’s not the end of the story, but we must go through this part of the story this week.  We worshipped at Hillside Presbyterian yesterday, and in her sermon, the Reverend Sylvia Wilson kept emphasizing the mantra for the week:  “Stay woke and take notes.”  Let us find our place in this story and use that mantra – Ride on, King Jesus!