Palm Sunday - Year C (RCL) 2010

This Palm Sunday sermon was written and delivered by The Rev. Ken Arnold, Deacon at St. Stephen's.

Sermon
Sunday of the Passion, March 28, 2010
St Stephen’s
Luke 23:1-49

Who is condemned in the Passion? Who dies on the cross? Jesus of Nazareth? Or Ken of Portland?

The answer in a few minutes.
Many of us have watched as someone we love has died, perhaps slowly and painfully, although it is not all that common in our culture, to be with someone as they are dying. We can watch movie and television violence, seemingly without pain, but we avoid the realities of suffering and death. Even in events like the earthquake in Haiti, where the agony is dressed up for us in newscasts meant to entertain even while they appall.

To be with the dying is to begin to understand suffering as a condition of life itself. And to be with the dying is to begin to be with ourselves, who we really are.

My father had Parkinson’s Disease, which as you know is a debilitating and cruel condition. He was a physically active man for whom this disease was especially galling. He said once, immobilized in his wheelchair, that “it wasn’t supposed to be like this.” He suffered the last few years of his life, as did my mother who cared for him. I was there on occasion to help, washing him, cleaning up after him in the bathroom, feeding him. When he died, I think he was grateful to be done with the suffering. I think I would have been. I know my mother was. Her back and knees hurt, she had half-slept with her mind attentive to what he might need in the other room. She was exhausted.

How is the death of my father different from the suffering and death of Jesus?
It isn’t. And, no, my father was not the Messiah--far from it. We had a difficult relationship. He once threatened to run me over if I blocked the entrance to the Pentagon, where he worked, during a protest against the Viet Nam War. He might have done it.

Were we reconciled in the end? Yes, to some extent. When I’m in Virginia, I visit his grave and play my flute for him. It’s the best I can do. It is good enough. I am a witness.

The question I want to raise for you today is: How does the Passion--this story of Jesus’s suffering and death--help us live our own lives? Probably not the question you were expecting. Never mind the thorny questions of how his death redeems humans or why or if God lets Jesus suffer and die. Never mind the theology of atonement or whatever explanations the church has devised to explain this event.

The purpose of the Gospel, in whatever version, is to show us how to live in harmony with the reality we call God. And that is what it means to be redeemed. It means to become our self and live in freedom. The life of Jesus is the story of the spirit’s arduous journey toward oneness with all that is. We suffer in this journey, as Jesus did; the work is hard, the obstacles many.

But this Gospel, Luke’s, demonstrates that God is faithful to humanity--to everyone, including those thought to be outcasts and sinners. God journeys with Jesus from the beginning of his life to the end. And beyond.

It is the same with us. That is the good news.
God-with-us, however, does not absolve us of responsibility for our own lives and the lives of others. We have work to do and not much time in which to do it.

The curious thing is that everyone suffers with Jesus: Pilate, Herod, Mary, Judas, Peter, Sam, Dennis, Joyce, Molly....Because, you see, we inhabit a single body in which the suffering of one affects all. The problem is that we often deny that connectedness. The church refers to this as the Body of Christ--and that’s certainly one way to say it. But it’s too limited. The body is actually all that is, everything. It is the cosmic body, which is also the body of God. Everything is one consciousness.

We cannot actually escape this fact, although we can and do deny it, by focusing obsessively on the pursuit of our individual happiness, and on the pursuit of a pain free life. The pursuit of happiness is the bondage Jesus died to free us from. His life was not about the pursuit of happiness; it was about the pursuit of his own truth in the Cosmic Body of God--and no one can find that without suffering and dying.

The crumbling society in which we live is being consumed by an obsession with happiness, with an idea of freedom that is based on what’s actually an alternate reality. This alternate reality insists that individuals can escape suffering if they make enough money or have enough toys. This alternate reality insists that those who are not wealthy cannot be happy and are condemned by their own inadequacies to suffer. This alternate reality is demonic. It is the reality of a society possessed.

What stands in the way of our living in freedom, either as individuals or as a society?
We do--the false self that protects us from the reality we call God. The false self is the ego, the crybaby who wonders why God allows suffering. Why me? is the cry that prevents our living our lives in freedom and grace. The more relevant question is, Why not me? What makes me think I am exempt from the suffering of my father? He thought it was not supposed to be that way--but it is. That is exactly how it is. In refusing to accept the reality of our certain death, we hide behind a mask that prevents our entering into the kingdom of freedom announced by Jesus. That’s the Kingdom of God--the Kingdom of Freedom. Jesus’s primary message is: Take off your mask. Stop hiding. Stop kidding yourself. You really are going to die and before you do you should figure out who you are. Because you don’t get another chance to do it.

Jesus dying is an emblem of our own life purpose, as he taught, which is to die to self. It is the same with this parish. We must die to self, to the illusions of who we are. It is the same with me, with each of you. The false self is what crucifies Jesus--revealed in its fear, self-importance, fantasy, secrecy, politics, lying, despair. Jesus was not killed by the Romans or the Jews but by the forces of denial. Around Jesus were many who kept looking for the solution to this man’s enigmatic life. As Jesus himself asked, Who do you say I am? Which is--who do you say you are? When you strip away your false assumptions, your protective coloring, who is left? Once you know that, you know Jesus.

Several times in this Gospel reading today the verb “to see” shows up. Seeing is an important concept here. What do we see when we look at Jesus in this story? Certainly we see his agony and death. We see the story in a vivid and disturbing way. We are meant to be disturbed. We are meant to be changed in seeing it. We cannot turn away from these events. They rivet us over and over, year after year. Why?

Because they are events in our own lives. If we turn away, we are denying our own reality. If we turn away as a society, as a parish, as individuals, we are denying the Cosmic Reality we know as God. God has not turned away. God is walking the same road Jesus is walking and you and I are walking.

At the end of the Gospel, we read that “his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.”
Another translation, The Message (which is somewhat more contemporary), says that these people “who knew Jesus well”--more than just acquaintances--”stood at a respectful distance and kept vigil.”

They knew him well. They were intimate with him. They knew the one who was dying to self. They too were being called to die to self. And in keeping vigil that is what they were doing. Letting go the fear and denial and keeping vigil, as we do when we wish to witness to what has happened.

Some years ago in New York, as many of you know, I was the on-call chaplain at St. Luke’s Hospital up next to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. The hospital had a tradition of calling a chaplain after someone died. On occasion I was called to the hospital during the night. It seemed odd to be going up Broadway to visit a dead body.

I recall one visit in particular. It was about 3 AM when I was called. I dressed. Couldn’t find a taxi. Walked ten blocks. The nurse was glad to see me because there was no one else around. She was alone. She showed me to the room. The dead man was a transient, perhaps 70 when he died. Emaciated. He was not yet wrapped and so I was with the recognizable body of this unknown man. I would recognize him today if I saw him. I prayed for him, for the repose of his soul, as we do. On his forehead, I made the mark of the cross with holy oil. The nurse thanked me. I went home and back to sleep. The next day I went to work as usual.

What was I doing? I was keeping watch. Keeping vigil. I was honoring the dead man who was also me, who was also Jesus. The women who kept vigil at the cross and went to the tomb to keep vigil make the resurrection possible. If we are not present to suffering and death, if we do not watch, God remains silent. Jesus remains in the tomb.

In keeping watch, we die to our self, to ego. My ego self that night would have preferred to stay in bed. No one would know if I did not go--except the nurse, who probably would have understood. Certainly the dead man would not know. But I went, leaving my self--my ego, my self that hates suffering--behind.

We might ask if Jesus lacked the problem of ego what we experience as a barrier to our true selves. Well, look back at this morning’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It is a perfect example of what we all imagine for ourselves--the triumph of ego, adulation, praise, a perfect life. Jesus too has to shed the ego that wishes to be admired. He too leaves the ego self that does not want to suffer--remember his prayer that the cup be taken from him--he needs to leave it in order to grow into the self he is called to be.

Not one of the apostles, not seen to be important, Mary Magdalene keeps vigil. She is has no ego. She is present at the cross and at the resurrection; she has also anointed Jesus in Bethany. Hers is the real self, not the false; she stays with the journey, with Jesus. It is also our journey. She is the one we should emulate.

Suffering is part of the journey but our suffering is the result of not seeing the world for what it is and clinging to our illusions. It’s not suffering itself but our reaction to it that matters. What do we do with the inevitable suffering of our lives and the lives of others?

Keep vigil. Witness. Be present. The self that is not afraid of reality stands with reality, as God stands with us in our suffering, which God shares. That is what we learn in this Passion, that God shares our suffering and is with us. And God was with Jesus. And we, like Jesus, can awaken to our true self, the one without a mask, the self that can love as Mary Magdalene loves in keeping watch. The self that can love selflessly, as Jesus does.

Oh, the answer to the question, Who dies on the cross, is, of course, Ken of Portland. And Dennis of Portland. And Molly of Portland. And and and. And St. Stephen’s of Portland.

Thanks be to God.

Fifth Sunday in Lent - Year C (RCL) 2010

Fifth Sunday in Lent – Year C (RCL) 2010
Isaiah 43: 16 – 21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3: 4b – 14; John 12: 1 – 8
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Parish, Portland OR
Sunday, March 21, 2010

THE SWEET SMELL OF DEATH

Let us pray: Holy One of God we remember this day our repentance and reconciliation, which have been the focus of our Lenten journey. As we draw ever closer to the events of your passion and sacrifice at Jerusalem our hearts become heavier with the knowledge of our complicity in your suffering at the hands of humankind. You speak words of warning and we choose to ignore your call to love each other as you have loved us. Fill us this Passiontide with the strength to see the gift of your love in the faces of the poor and forgotten who are among us as the living embodiment of your grace which remains with us always. Amen.

(SUNG) WOMAN YOUR FINE OINTMENT, BRAND NEW AND EXPENSIVE
SHOULD HAVE BEEN SAVED FOR THE POOR. WHY HAS IT
BEEN WASTED? WE COULD HAVE RAISED MAYBE THREE
HUNDRED SILVER PIECES OR MORE. PEOPLE WHO ARE
HUNGY, PEOPLE WHO ARE STARVING – THEY MATTER MORE
THAN YOUR FEET AND HAIR.

The journey toward Jerusalem and the events of the passion, death and resurrection draw closer and closer in our liturgical year. This mornings narrative from the author of John’s Gospel places us in Bethany, and mere five miles from the gates of the holy city where throngs will gather to cry out for the blessed one who comes in the name of the Lord. It is six days before the Passover the author tells us; and we are well aware of the events which will unfold at that Passover feast. This day though in Bethany of Judea, Jesus will share a meal given for him at the home of Lazarus who had been restored to life from death. We can assume that many have gathered in this small town to see, once again, this preacher from Nazareth who was accomplishing acts mightier than any of the prophets of old. All four Gospel evangelists tell a version of this story of the anointing of Jesus as a symbolic preparation for events which will unfold in the days ahead. We jump from the author of Luke/Acts telling to the author of John’s telling in order to maintain the timeline in the narrative. The author of Luke/Acts places this event earlier in Jesus’ public ministry and at the home of a Pharisee where a woman of questionable repute washes Jesus’ feet with her tears, dries them with her hair and anoints them with ointment. We pick up the story in the Johannine text so that we can move the narration timeline along and arrive at the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, where the foreshadowing of Jesus’ burial anointing is laid out as is the betrayal by Judas Iscariot who is also present at this meal. Mary, in an act of costly generosity takes a pound of perfume made from Nard which was imported from India and hence extremely expensive – and anoints Jesus’ feet; then in an act which would have been scandalous to all who viewed it; pulls down her hair and dries the savior’s feet with it. The Iscariot Judas, unable to contain his indignation at this extravagance lashes out and demands an explanation and judgment against her behavior.

(SUNG) SLEEP AND I SHALL SOOTHE YOU, CALM YOU AND ANOINT
YOU, MYRRH FOR YOUR HOT FOREHEAD/THEN YOU’LL
FEEL EVERYTHINGS ALRIGHT YES, EVERYTHINGS FINE.
AND IT’S COOL AND THE OINTMENTS SWEET, FOR THE FIRE
IN YOUR HEAD AND FEET, CLOSE YOUR EYES, CLOSE YOUR
EYES AND RELAX THINK OF NOTHING TONIGHT.

Mary in her generous and extravagant act is blessed by Jesus who is grateful for the opportunity to pause, however briefly, before the coming onslaught and bask in the fragrant glow of a blessed moment of peace. It is almost as if the Gospel author gives us this moment to gather our breath and our minds about us before we are thrust into the chaos and confusion which will accompany Jesus and the followers in the coming days. Jesus is aware of what Mary has done – even if she is not – in preparation for what must be faced in the approaching days of betrayal and death. The high cost of her perfumed gift matches the higher cost of the offering which will be given at week’s end on the hardwood of the cross.

As we prepare for the upcoming re-telling of the pivotal piece of our Christian story, we are struck by the quickening pace of our narrative and the events that surround the band of disciples who will join Jesus in Jerusalem for the Passover feast, and the whirlwind three days that will mark Christ’s suffering, death and burial. Just at the gates of Jerusalem we pause and reflect on the anointed one who will carry out the greatest act of love known to humankind – the offering of one’s life for one’s friends. I wonder if Jesus is trembling with the fear and anticipation of what awaits him and his disciples. I wonder if we are ever truly ready for the events we live out each Passion tide as we continue the journey with this one whom we have claimed as our Savior.

Our beloved Episcopal Church has once again grabbed the world spotlight as we begin to experience the bantering and political posturing from across the pond to the news that The Rev. Mary Glasspool has received the required consents from Bishops and Standing Committees to permit her Consecration as Bishop Suffragan in the Diocese of Los Angeles to proceed. On Wednesday the office of the Presiding Bishop and Primate of The Episcopal Church, The Rt. Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori announced that the majority consents required had been received. The following day a communiqué from Lambeth Palace, the residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury was released that said among other things; “It is regrettable that appeals from Anglican Communion bodies for continuing gracious restraint have not been headed…following the Los Angeles election in December, the Archbishop made clear that the outcome of the consent process would have important implications for the communion…further consultation will now take place about the implications and consequences of this decision.” The Episcopal Church has made it clear with the election and consecration of The Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson in the Diocese of New Hampshire in 2003; and now the election and pending consecration of the Rev. Mary Glasspool in the Diocese of Los Angeles that we have ended our fractious debate on the issue of the inclusion of ALL of God’s children to ALL of the sacramental rites and orders of our Church. We will continue to hold our sisters and brothers in the Anglican Communion who respectfully disagree with our decisions in our hearts and our prayers and we will continue to join with them at God’s holy table to share the joy of our Good News in Christ Jesus that no one will be turned away from the bounty of God’s grace and blessing in our Church.

It is with great relief and joy that I report to you that the ongoing demons of institutional disgrace have been turned aside by the persistence and good graces of many folks who have looked deep into their hearts and seen their hardness and have chosen to repent and return on this Lenten journey. The nursing staff of the unit at the Oregon State Hospital where our parishioner is staying has communicated that they will accept a visit from your priest and deacon this afternoon. Ken and I will travel to Salem and join with our brother in prayers of healing and blessing as he looks to regain some of the dignity of his personhood in the midst of a difficult system that needs much reform. Our persistent prayers and pleadings have moved an institutional block just a hair’s breathe enough to let the grace of God move in and our Christian commitment to visit the sick can be lived out.

Our community of faith, which has been looking to move outside of the red doors of our facility is gaining ground; sacred grounds that is – and the service of meditation and prayer held at the new location of Cello Coffeehouse downtown was a rousing success this past Wednesday. About twenty of us gathered in prayer and fellowship in this latest move to bring the Good News out into our neighborhood. Thanks are due to all of you who joined us and a challenge is renewed to invite a friend or neighbor who might not know about our community to join you either here on a Sunday morning or at one of the other services of Holy Week that will dramatically re-tell the story of our redemption and renewal in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus the Christ. Beginning next Sunday we enter that special time of our liturgical year that we call Holy Week. The music is being polished, the drama is being set up and the excitement is beginning to build. The penultimate acts of our salvation will be retold on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday – and the great celebration of the Resurrection is not far behind. We have so much to be excited about – so much to be grateful for and so much to share with those who have yet to become aware of the power of the Gospel alive in this place. When we greet each other across the aisles at the exchange of peace this morning, we should be conscious of those who are here with us to relive our Christian story – and we should be more aware of those who are not and how we can bring them to join us in the work we have been called to do. God asks no more of us than God is willing to do for us; and what God has done for us in the life, death and resurrection of the Christ is amazing news meant to be shared with all of creation so that the Good Friday sacrifice may burst with the empty tomb of Easter joy.

Amen.