Passion of Christ

    It was humility and obedience that brought Jesus to the point of death.  Our Gospel reading takes us to the Mount of Olives on the last night of Jesus’ life.  Here Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane.  The name Gethsemane translates “olive press.”  Jesus often came to this beautiful grove to pray, and on that night it lived up to its name.  Ancient olive presses were simple and effective machines: a basket full of ripe olives was placed on a stone catchment and a massive stone weight came down with crushing force, squeezing the oil out of the olives.  On this last night of earthly life, Jesus came to the “Garden of crushing,” and laid his life under  the weight of the world’s sin and the inexorable will of the Father.

Why would Jesus throw a communications blackout over something as important as his identity?   As I puzzled over Jesus’ actions this week, I got to thinking about modern-day people who say they speak for Christ.  In a cover story entitled: “Does God Want you to be Rich?”, this week’s Time magazine reports how Christians are backing away from the more traditional “deny yourself,” “take-up-your-cross” message of Jesus and embracing the much-more appealing theme of “I want it all.”  In the article, TV preacher Joyce Meyer summarizes the gospel of wealth and happiness for us: “Who would want to get in on something where you’re miserable, poor, broke and ugly and you just have to muddle through until you get to heaven?  I believe God wants to give us nice things.”  OK, riches I can understand, but how does God make me less ugly?!

What difference does the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ really make in your life? Today’s scripture from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians asks this question...and I ask it of you today. The core of the gospel message is this: Out of great mercy and love, God, in the person of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, came among the people he created to rescue us when we had lost our way and fallen into darkness and sin. The early Christians were adamant: As NT Wright says: “...the world is not simply perplexed, needing good advice; nor simply misguided, needing good leadership; nor simply muddled, needing good examples. The world...is sick and needs to be healed; it is sinful and needs to be forgiven; it is under alien lordship, and yearns for the kingdom of God.

    In the Dominus Flevit church, the Church where “The Lord Wept,” your eye moves from the window to the mosaic on the front of the communion table at the altar.  The altar is unlike any that I have ever seen.  In Christian churches we see a lot of bare altars, or communion tables engraved with the words, “In Memory of me...” or something like that.  In other churches you might see carvings of great biblical scenes, or even the Last Supper portrayed.  But on this altar space, the central mosaic depicts...a chicken.  Yes, that’s right...a chicken...a white hen, whose red comb looks like a crown.  She’s standing up tall, with her wings outstretched.  Beneath her wings she shelters seven yellow chicks, that for all the world look like marshmallow Easter peeps.  The chicks’ eyes look in every direction; they’re just hanging out.   The hen’s eyes are fixed on an imminent threat ...she’s ready to take on an enemy that threatens her little ones.

The oil lamps cast dim shadows on the walls of the meeting place.  Tongues of flame seemed to sway to the rhythms of the joyous music that filled the room.  By twos and threes people made their way into the circle, bowing in prayer as they joined the group of worshipers.  Some came from work, others from home.  The evening that the church had long awaited was at hand…John Mark had completed his book.  The congregation packed in around Mark, who sat in the middle of the group, with a parchment book in his hands. 

What are we to make of “the world?”  How should we relate to “the world?”  
    Some Christians fear the world, treating interaction with the world with the same trepidation as one would a roadside bomb.  We’ve all known people who won’t mix with non-Christians, people who won’t celebrate holidays, people who try to shelter their children away from the influence of the world, people who fear the contagion of  “the world.”  I know people who are afraid to have children, people who are afraid of public schools, of rock and roll, of comic books.  I’ve known folks who only listen to Christian music, watch Christian videos, read Christian Harlequin novels, and probably eat Christian breakfast cereal.  They fear the world.
    Some Christians hate this world.... 

Each week we gather around this table and pull out family stories.  As we re-tell our stories, and read more stories from the Word week by week, a couple of things takes place.  Our ancestors come to life in our midst...they regain their voices, they re-inhabit their places among us...in a very real sense, we re-member them, we once again give them hands and feet and voices and invite them to continue to live among us.  And we remember that we are a part of something larger than ourselves, building upon the foundation of those who have gone before.
    Our readings this morning  remind us that we are a part of a drama that began long, long ago...and will continue for who knows how long after we’re gone.