God's Kingdom Revealed: Real Power

Today’s story is a continuation of last week’s story as the chief priests take Jesus from Caiaphas and deliver him to Pilate. If we were to create a drama out of this two-part story, Pilate’s headquarters, or praetorium, would be staged in two parts. 

The first part would be set outside. On the left is the pathway where Jesus has just been questioned by the high priest. We also have in view the fireside where Peter denied Jesus.

This path leads to a simple but open outdoor space for groups to stand under the night sky. The corners of this space are lit by torchlight, perfect for conversation.

At the front of the stage is a single seat. It’s the judgment seat. 

There is a great door that divides this side of the stage from the other side, which is inside. Inside is a walled space, still in the open air. One side of this space is set for conversation with a pallet, or a reclining chair for Pilate to lay on. The other side of this interior space is busy, with military equipment hanging on the walls. Crates stacked for storage. And in its center there is a flogging post standing ready for use.

With this imagery in mind, we read from the Holy Gospel, according to John.

Then Pilate had Jesus taken and whipped. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and dressed him in a purple robe. Over and over they went up to him and said, “Greetings, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face.

Pilate came out of the palace again and said to the Jewish leaders, “Look! I’m bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no grounds for a charge against him.” When Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe, Pilate said to them, “Here’s the man.”

When the chief priests and their deputies saw him, they shouted out, “Crucify, crucify!”

Pilate told them, “You take him and crucify him. I don’t find any grounds for a charge against him.”

The Jewish leaders replied, “We have a Law, and according to this Law he ought to die because he made himself out to be God’s Son.”

When Pilate heard this word, he was even more afraid. He went back into the residence and spoke to Jesus, “Where are you from?” Jesus didn’t answer. So Pilate said, “You won’t speak to me? Don’t you know that I have authority to release you and also to crucify you?”

Jesus replied, “You would have no authority over me if it had not been given to you from above. That’s why the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin.” From that moment on, Pilate wanted to release Jesus.

However, the Jewish leaders cried out, saying, “If you release this man, you aren’t a friend of the emperor! Anyone who makes himself out to be a king opposes the emperor!”

When Pilate heard these words, he led Jesus out and seated him on the judge’s bench at the place called Stone Pavement (in Aramaic, Gabbatha). It was about noon on the Preparation Day for the Passover. Pilate said to the Jewish leaders, “Here’s your king.”

The Jewish leaders cried out, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!”

Pilate responded, “What? Do you want me to crucify your king?”

“We have no king except the emperor,” the chief priests answered. Then Pilate handed Jesus over to be crucified. --John 19:1-16a (CEB)

In keeping with our theme of the unexpected today, I’d like to invite you to pull out the yellow insert in your bulletins. Turn to the side that is opposite the Easter flower order form. No, I’m not preaching on Easter flowers today. Well, not until our time of announcements. Instead, flip to the other side that’s entitled, “Chiasm: Jesus Before Pilate.”

The entire story of Jesus before Pilate - the story we began last Sunday and that is continuing to today - is set up as a chiasm. A chiasm is a common rhetorical device used in ancient Greek writing where lines or scenes unfold and then are repeated in reverse order. Creating a parallel format. It gets its name because the structure takes the shape of the Greek letter chi, which looks like an X for us. Do you notice, as you look at the insert, the X-shape?

The story of Pilate and Jesus, which begins in Chapter 18, consists of seven scenes. If we look at this story carefully, we notice that there is one scene that stands at the center of the X. It stands alone. It has no parallel or corresponding scene. In Greek rhetoric, this stand alone scene is something to pay attention to. Because that portion of the story has special thematic significance. On the insert, this scene is marked with a D.

But, before we dig into this particular scene, let’s look at the others and how they parallel each other. We can often gain insight into other themes or points of emphasis.  We can see, for example, that in the two B sections, Pilate and Jesus have extended discussions. One is about kingship. The other is explicitly about power.

If we look at the C sections, we see that in both of these scenes, Pilate is trying to assert his power or to use the system to escape the entire situation. In both of these scenes, the Jewish religious leaders (who, interestingly, claim to be without power) win out. In the C scene in chapter 18, they call for the release of Barabbas instead of Jesus. In today’s C scene, in chapter 19, they bring a charge that sends Pilate into a great state of fear that causes him to reconsider his judgment. What is that the religious leaders say that causes Pilate such fear? “He claimed to be the Son of God.” Pilate realizes that this situation might jeopardize his position of power. The title, Son of God, was used for Caesar. And for someone to claim that they were the Son of God was much closer to sedition against the Roman empire than calling someone the King of the Jews.

And, then, in the A scenes, this potential threat to Pilate’s power becomes even more explicit, when in today’s A scene, the religious leaders say to him, “If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor.” Pilate already knows what happens to those "Friends of Caesar" who fall out of favor. One of his mentors just a year or two before this moment had been executed on the charge of sedition. So, yes. There is good reason for Pilate to be afraid. To fear losing his power. And, perhaps, even his life.

So, he caves. Giving into the religious leaders who, throughout this story, have claimed they have no power. Yet, they are the ones who, at least on the story level, are clearly controlling the situation.

Power, once again, is central to the story.

But, while our attention has been drawn to Pilate, we do well to remember that, throughout the gospel of John, Jesus has always been in control of his own fate. He has moved toward this moment as an act of his own will. We are now at the cusp of the climax that the entire John narrative has been moving toward - the moment when Jesus will be lifted up.

Now, let’s look at the D section. It’s the central and most important part of the chiasm, the opening lines of our text today. It is a coronation scene - a coronation scene that is not like that of Queen Elizabeth, which we remembered this week. Instead, this coronation scene begins with Pilate having the soldiers whip Jesus. Who then place a crown on Jesus’ head. Not a crown of gold encrusted with diamonds, but one that has been woven from thorns. They then place a purple robe on his shoulders, the color marked for royalty. Over and over, they come up to him saying, “Greetings, King of the Jews.” And, then, rather than bowing down to him, they slap him. Over and over and over again. 

Our human eyes might view this scene as Jesus’ weakest moment. But, in truth, in the gospel of John, this is Jesus’ most powerful and victorious moment, even as the soldiers mock Jesus as a defeated king, who has failed in his Messianic claim. Throughout this episode, Jesus has remained stoic, knowing that the systems of power at work both in the temple and in the empire - the systems that seek to keep people divided in order to maintain power - that these systems of power are way too small for his plans. 

Power, once again, is central to the story. 

But, who has the real power in this story? Is it the religious leaders who feel so threatened by this Jesus that they must have him killed? Is it Pilate, fearful of being called a seditionist, of losing his seat of power? It’s interesting to note that just a few years later, Caiaphas, the chief priest loses his power, dismissed because of growing public dissatisfaction that he has gotten too close to Rome. And then in just a few more years, Pilate will die. And although the circumstances surrounding his death are somewhat of a mystery and source of contention, whether he committed suicide or was executed by the Roman emperor for his conversion to Christianity, Pilate, too, loses his position of power. 

So, what about us? Now I’m not saying that any of us will be executed for our own need to hold onto power. But we, in the Church, need to notice how and why we exert power. 

Yesterday, in our Saturday morning discussion, we watched a video by Father Greg Boyle. Those of you at Grace & Glory might remember him, I’ve mentioned him before. He is a Jesuit priest working in East Los Angeles, one of the most gang-infested areas of the city. Over the past several decades, he has worked to cross the boundaries and to build a community that welcomes everyone in, with all their tattoos, their prison records. Their brokenness.

You see, it’s our very human tendency to put up barriers. To demonize others. To - in our fear and anxiety about the future - to try to control everything, to seek to hold onto power. The result is that we build barriers between us and other people. We create them right here in this place. We are really no different than the characters in our story, little Caiaphuses and Pilates, who create a God that looks and acts like them instead of a God who looks and acts like Jesus. Jesus, as he stands there, whipped and mocked by the soldiers in all of his humility, yet at his most powerful and victorious.

This Church, with a capital C, is not about us. But about Jesus. And about his kingdom. A kingdom that comes to us in the most unexpected ways. That comes to us when we grow deeper in community and in relationship with God and with one another. When we welcome others in. Because it’s really hard to demonize someone who you know. 

But, in the end, the kingship of Jesus isn’t about power. But about kinship. It’s a vision of an expansive kinship, where all are welcomed and loved, where barriers are dismantled, where humility brings the ultimate victory and power, and where there is no longer “us” and “them,” but only “us.”

This is the astonishing nature of God’s kingdom. May we join in and may we be open to the unexpected. Amen.

Preached April 3, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.

5th Sunday in Lent

Readings: John 19:1-16a; Psalm 146

 

Our Money Story: Reimagine

 Jesus told them, "When you pray, say:
‘Father, uphold the holiness of your name.
Bring in your kingdom.
Give us the bread we need for today.
Forgive us our sins,
    for we also forgive everyone who has wronged us.

And don't lead us into temptation.'"  --Luke 11:2-4 (CEB)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

I know this may be confusing. We are in our third and final week, considering the Lord’s Prayer as it is written in the Gospel of Luke. In addition, we are in our third of four weeks focusing on the topic of our Money Story. That’s where it may get confusing. It would seem reasonable that our discussion around our money stories should conclude with our discussion around Luke’s Lord Prayer. But, have you ever experienced the end of something in your life while at the same time something else continued on? Let’s think of middle school, for example. You can finish fifth grade, but still be in middle school, right? Or think of parenting. Your child can finish college and move away, but your role as parent doesn’t end, right? It continues on.

So it is sometimes with sermons and sermon series. I hope that after next week, all of this will have made sense to you. Not to mention being a carrot for you to join us in worship next week, too!

Before we focus in on verse 4 of today’s reading, I’d like us to look back at this entire prayer in Luke in a slightly different way. We haven’t yet talked about this, but if we look closely at these three verses, we see that they are a chiasm. A chiasm is a tool in ancient literature and argument in which the elements of a passage are divided into parallel members. 

A Father, uphold the holiness of your name.

B Bring in your kingdom,

C Give us the bread we need for today.

B’ Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who has wronged us.

A’ And don’t lead us into temptation.

The parallelism works from the outside in. So, if you take our reading in Luke, you will see that the lines marked with an A are parallel to each other, here in white. Likewise, the B lines are also parallel to one another. In green. In the center of the chiasm is line C. This is the most important line in the chiasm. Revealing the deepest concern of the passage. A prayer for God to give us provision. What we need.

Why do we need this provision? The question may seem silly to us. Of course we need food and shelter. To live. But, perhaps this question about why we need this provision is better answered by backing up in the chiasm. From Line C to Line B. 

Now, there are different types of chiasms. In this particular one, the parallel line are intended to explain each other. So, if we look at the first B line “bring in your kingdom,” it is to be further explained by the second B line. Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who has wronged us. Our prayer for forgiveness is related to our prayer that God’s kingdom come. 

Now to our focus on verse 4.

The idea of forgiveness here is not intended to be pietistic or moralistic. Instead, about seeking forgiveness because we have failed in working for the coming of God’s kingdom. A kingdom of justice. A kingdom of equity. A kingdom of enough. For everyone. We have failed in working to bring God's kingdom on earth by holding onto our wealth and our possessions. By being unwilling to share abundantly of them, in the same way they have been abundantly shared with us. Maybe we need to be forgiven because Our Money Story has been about scarcity. About hoarding our abundance. And in so doing, by maintaining power. 

To share our possessions is not only a mandate by God by a symbol of our faith. A fruit of it.

But, perhaps we’re on the other side of this. Perhaps we are impoverished. Poor. Lacking even the basic essentials. Wronged by those with means. Perhaps we lack power, wronged by systemic structures that seem to only keep us enslaved. We, too, are called to forgiveness. To forgive those who have wronged us.

To forgive and to be forgiven frees us from all that binds us. It reconciles us with God and with one another. So that we might begin to reimagine a world where social and economic systems no longer disparage or impoverish, but provide for and benefit everyone. A world consistent with the reign of God. And a world in which the holiness of God’s name is upheld and we are not tempted to idolatry.

We’ve now been in this time of pandemic for nearly six months. A few months into it, I remember reading several articles and hearing news reports about how, even in the midst of the evil we were experiencing, it seemed as though we were learning important lessons and considering the possibility of a new way of being after all of this was over. Spending more time with family and in relationship with others. Working to simplify our lives and be less busy and less consumed with acquiring stuff. Spending more time on our spiritual lives and our relationship with God and our faith community. And wanting to create new structures in our world, structures in which the inequities that have become so apparent in these past few months might be repaired. The world was, even in this midst of pandemic, vividly reimagining what might come out of this period of bondage. 

Last week, we talked about the year of jubilee set forth in Deuteronomy. A Sabbath year, where everyone and everything was to rest. To cease work. In a way it feels as though we are in a coronavirus-induced year of jubilee. Yet, as much as we might hope that things will be different at the end of this jubilee - this Sabbath year, we are already beginning to witness this hopefulness diminish as we become more tired and disheartened. And more divided. I have no doubt that, when it does end, credit card companies will charge interest again. Libraries will impose late fees. Prisons will be full once more. Rent will be due and not forgiven. The land will be worked and overworked. Just as our worth, our value, will, once again, be measured by our productivity or lack thereof.

Yet we, you and I as the church, are called to something different. We are called to bear witness to a greater jubilee, a fuller Sabbath, a never-ending kingdom inaugurated by Jesus. To continue to reimagine our money stories and to live out our reimagined lives in ways consistent with God’s kingdom. Lives of solidarity with and compassion for the poor and the dispossessed. Lives driven, not by consumerism and consumption, but by simplicity and gratitude for the abundance God showers on us, knowing that there is more than enough. And lives in which we are released from all that keeps us in bondage so that we might remember God’s name and, as the reconciled people of God, might fully experience the love God shows us through Christ Jesus. Witnesses to this reimagined way of being.

Luke in his version of the Lord’s Prayer calls us to pray for the coming of this kingdom. To be sustained as we wait and witness to it. And, in our praying, to open ourselves up to the divine coming, where God will wrap God’s arms around us and bind up our wounds. As God will do for the world.

Amen.

Preached September 13, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Pentecost 14

Readings: Luke 11:2-4; Psalm 126