Palm/Passion Sunday 2016

Palm/Passion Sunday 2016 (Year C)

Even though today is the start of Holy Week, and much of the liturgy is centered around our readings today; I’ve still been thinking of the Isaiah reading that we had last week. It’s Isaiah 43:16-21, and it says:

Thus says the Lord,
who makes a way in the sea,
a path in the mighty waters,

who brings out chariot and horse,
army and warrior;

they lie down, they cannot rise,
they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:

Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.

I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.

The wild animals will honor me,
the jackals and the ostriches;

for I give water in the wilderness,
rivers in the desert,

to give drink to my chosen people,
the people whom I formed for myself

so that they might declare my praise.

The thing about Isaiah is that it was written to Israel when they were in Exile. So at this point in the book, the language has moved from conviction and judgement against Israel, to the renewed promise of hope and redemption.

  

This particular reading, then (just at a cursory glance) speaks of armies and chariots being easily overwhelmed by God. Not even the elements are a problem, for God can make even rivers in the desert. (This is something which delights the ostriches and jackals.) Of course this isn’t just provision for the wild animals, though, but is also for God’s chosen people.

But along with all of this other stuff, there are these lines that I couldn’t get out of my head all this past week. They read, “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”

I suppose, taking into account not only everything happening in our world—or even considering all that we focus on today with the story of Jesus’ Passion; perhaps our answer would be “No, we can’t perceive it.” In fact, I think most of us would just be happy if American politics didn’t look like the Jerry Springer Show. And while I know that being a people in Exile in Babylon is a far cry from what we experience—all the same, what is this ‘new thing’ that God is doing?

As some of you know, throughout the weeks of Lent we watched the film Cool Hand Luke, and spent a lot of time looking at the Passion story in all four of the Gospels. We did this not because the Passion narratives and the movie are the same story—but because there is so much of the Passion story represented in the film. What this allowed us to do was talk a bit more freely about the Passion of Jesus—even why it’s called the “Passion” in the first place.

  

Anyway, over the five weeks that we did this study, what we found was that not only is the Passion story one which remains relevant from generation to generation; but we also came to understand that it’s a story that is too important to be confined to the Bible, or to liturgy only…  Instead, the story of Jesus’ Passion places one of the central themes of our faith—specifically that God has become human in the person of Jesus—within the realm of true, even painful, human experience. And what we learn from this, if we can accept the story as a human experience rather than a liturgical exercise—we learn that our faith has no business being sentimental… Because like the suffering of Jesus; like the suffering of so many in our world; even like the suffering we experience in our own lives; the Passion makes our faith all too real and all too relevant. Instead of forsaking the faithful in their suffering for the promise of euphoric happiness, God enters fully into suffering with us.

Yet, for all of its grit and anguish, I take this story as an affirmation of my faith. But that’s to say that faith cannot afford to be something that only makes me feel better about myself. Faith has to be more than Precious Moments figurines; more than religious kitsch; more than cloying inspirational posters. Faith has to be more if it hopes to make any kind of difference in the world.

Sadly, however, the things we read about in the Passion remain realities. Whether it’s betrayal, abuse of political power, or cruelty to other people; this story of Jesus being broken on the wheels of this life remind us that faith that does nothing—changes nothing—only perpetuates a system of savagery.

So what about this new thing that God is doing? Perhaps this new thing is to strip away the delusions that so many people have about faith. Maybe as we’re called back to meditate on the story of Jesus, betrayed, and broken on the cross we’re supposed to learn that God doesn’t tempt us with unrealistic visions of a life of faith. Rather, God participates with us fully in the brokenness of our world, and still calls us to change it through Christ’s love. By this example then, we see that there is no room for a vapid kind of faith. And in the story of his Passion, Jesus calls us back to our senses: that even as he saves us from our sin, he saves us from a life of meaningless, ineffective faith.