Thursday, April 26, 2012

not saying great things






You do not need to say
      the next great thing.

It is not necessary for your word
      to be the last
      or even the first.

Release your desire to declare
      an answer that approaches
      completion or finality.

For the word that is yours to speak
      is ours to speak together.

And even then, only in stammerings:
      mere hints of the truest story,
      and inklings of our deepest names.

So first, beloved,
      before any utterance of our own,
         
first let us listen.


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

strange royalty

Shalom Mennonite Church

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Palm/Passion Sunday

Texts: Mark 11 & Mark 15

Eric Massanari



strange royalty”


We don't have to look far

in this world to see what happens

when the power of kings is threatened—

or the power of rulers of any kind,

kings or queens, presidents or prime ministers,

CEOs, five-star generals or archbishops.


The “kings” of this world

often wield their power

from well-defined, and well-defended distances.


The king is the elevated other,

enthroned above the ordinary.

The king is beneficent to those who are loyal

and unyielding to those who are defiant.


If Jesus of Nazareth is a king,

then he is a very strange one.


The kings of this world

ascend to their thrones.

Jesus descends to his death.


The kings of this world

are well satisfied and wealthy.

Jesus journeys a way of emptiness.


The kings of this world

fight to maintain their control.

Jesus yields and surrenders.


The kings of this world

stand apart from their subjects.

Jesus willingly companions all.


As far as we know,

king” is a title that Jesus never

claimed directly for himself.

However, as he enters Jerusalem,

we cannot miss the fact

that he is very much playing

with the images of royalty:

entering the royal city of David

riding on the back of a donkey,

as people line the roadways

and shout their accolades.


Perhaps it is a bit of theatrical protest

on Jesus' part; a moment of ironic playfulness.


However, for the crowds

who lay down cloaks on the road

and shout, “Hosanna!”

there is no irony in the moment.


For them, for this moment,

this is the hoped for heir of David,

their messiah,

their lord,

their deliverer.


Much will happen in the coming days

and turn the tide of their favor.

No doubt many of them will join

the crowds that eventually

shout out for Jesus' crucifixion,

once it becomes clear that this is

not the sort of king they wanted.


The irony of Jesus as king

is heard in the mocking words

of the soldiers at the crucifixion:

Hail, King of the Jews!”

It becomes the inscription

beneath his feet:

INRI.


In Latin:

Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum.

Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”


What is this strange royalty?


Even here, in this final moment

there is no word of vengeance,

no threat or judgment,

no resentment or reproach.


There is, instead, a moment

of supreme abandonment

and anguish.

Jesus enters it in the way

he has all other moments:

with complete openness

of heart and being.


In this way,

a great emptying happens in this moment,

the cross is emptied

of any power it may have had

to threaten, intimidate

or humiliate.


Here the worldly power of kings and rulers

is disarmed and rendered impotent.


For what has the power

to control or intimidate

a person (or a people)

willing to fully accept anything that comes,

with utter openness and love?


Bodies can be tortured and killed,

but never souls.

Egos can be battered and bruised,

but not the image of God we carry.


And it is the majesty

of this image of God

that Jesus reveals on the cross.


Kings of the world do not behave like this.

What is this strange royalty?


Ronald Rohlheiser, a contemporary

writer on Christian spirituality reflects on the crucifixion:


In the crucifixion, Jesus was humiliated, shamed, brutalized. That pain stretched his heart to a great depth. But that new space did not fill in with bitterness and anger. It filled in instead with a depth of empathy and forgiveness that we have yet to fully understand.



It seems our understanding comes

through making such journeys ourselves.


What experiences of life have deepened you?


The experiences that deepen us most

and make our living more soul-full

are typically not the ones that

affirm us and leave us feeling great.

The experiences that deepen us most

are often the ones that lay us bare,

leave us vulnerable,

like moments of loss or wounding.*


They may be the moments when

we know humiliation or shame,

perhaps for the way they reveal

some weakness or inadequacy we may have

that we don't want others to see.


If you've ever lived as part

of a family then you have probably

known many such experiences!

To live a part of a church

or some other human community

for any length of time means

you will likely know such experiences!


These experiences inevitably change us,

and we have choice as to what sort

of change that will be.


We can choose to grow bitter, angry and resentful.

We can choose to take out our pain

on ourselves or on others.

Or, we might choose, with God's help,

to experience such moments

with a great openness of being.


And in doing so we learn we can survive them

and be deepened by them.


By engaging these experiences in the

way that Jesus himself did,

with openness and love,

there can come a deepening of our being;

we grow more alive

than we were before...

eventually...eventually.


It is a way that more often than not

requires great patience.



Jesus once said:

I came that they may have life,

and have it abundantly” (John 10:10)


If Jesus can be called a king,

then the royal way of abundant life

that he calls his followers to

is something very different

than the life of kings in this world.


The true royalty,

the true majesty

that dwells in Jesus

dwells in us.


It is the richness and power

of God's own presence and love.


But it must be chosen.

We must choose it

in whatever circumstances

we might find ourselves in.


We must make the choice

to live from that deep place of love

even when we have to travel

pathways that are shadowed

by great difficulty and death.

This is the way of abundant life.


May you allow yourself

to be deepened by life,

to be loved by God,

and to share with others

the majesty of the love

God has given you to share with the world. Amen.


* I am grateful to Ronald Rolheiser for this question, "What makes you deeper?" and this observation that often it is the challenging, troubling, even humiliating experiences of life that may deepen us most for they way they unseat the control of our egoic self.

When even the shadows can heal

           Yet more than ever believers were added to the Lord, great numbers of both men and women, so that they even carried out the sick...