April 1, 2007
(The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday)
A Blip on the Radar
by The Rev. Canon Susan Sommer
The Liturgy of the Palms:
Luke 19:28-40 Psalm
118:1-2, 19-29
The Liturgy of the Word:
Isaiah 50:4-9a Psalm 31:9-16 Philippians
2:5-11 Luke 22:14-23:56 or Luke 23:1-49
(From
The Lectionary Page)
Cady and I were under the basement stairs one stormy afternoon several years ago while the sirens wailed overhead. Cady chose that moment to observe, Mommy, I dont like God any more,
You dont? Why not? I asked.
Why did God have to invent tornadoes?
Well if the Weather Channel was any indication, we were going to be under the stairs for a while. So it seemed as good a time as any for a conversation about meteorology and theodicy with a then-6 year old. So I explained that God made our planet and our atmosphere in such a way that in this part of the world, we have both warm air and cold air in the springtime, and that both are good and needed, but sometimes they get into arguments with each other. Then the warm air and the cold air swirl around and get madder and madder and the clouds get darker and darker and sometimes we get thunderstorms and sometimes we get tornadoes. We dont like it when that happens and neither does God, but sometimes it just happens. The important thing to remember is that when tornadoes touch down and stuff gets wrecked, God is right there with us helping us get everything rebuilt.
I think about tornadoes on Palm Sunday, and not simply because it is April in the heartland. Tornadoes are localized storms of almost unbelievable power. Doppler radar has improved our capacity to predict them and track them, but they still are mostly blips on radar screens blips that nonetheless turn the world upside down, literally, when they occur.
And it makes me think about the Passion Narrative which we just heard. Jesus's crucifixion perhaps was news in Jerusalem, but in the vast scheme of the Roman Empire, it was also a blip on the screen. Crucifixions were common occurrences. An itinerant Jewish preacher and healer was accused of perverting the nation, fomenting a tax rebellion, and pretending to be a king. Nothing much new there from the Roman perspective. Israel had been particularly troublesome to them from the beginning, with acts of insurrection occurring frequently, especially in Jerusalem. In fact, the two men crucified along with Jesus of Nazareth were two such insurrectionists. The man whom Pilate released -- Barabbas -- was another.
And yet it wasn't that clear-cut, was it? In fact, Jesus of Nazareth never advocated violence, never advocated a tax rebellion, and never proclaimed himself king. At a political level, Jesus could hardly be seen as a legitimate threat to Caesar. What Jesus did was teach about a kingdom of God that God was ushering in. Again and again he called for radical change to prepare for this new world order. He criticized the rich for accumulating possessions they did not need instead of sharing their goods with the poor and the hungry. He included those on the margins of society in a way that scandalized the religious establishment. He insisted that service and humility were the hallmarks of leadership, and he called for leaders to give up violence and the threat of violence. His was a vision of the world where God's grace was freely bestowed upon all with no thought given to class or rank. In short, the Kingdom he preached was at distinct odds with the prevailing worldview.
When opposing forces collide, violence follows. That is certainly true in weather patterns. When warm moist air from the south collides with a cold front from the north, conditions are right for the colliding air currents to begin to rotate. If a strong updraft is added to this vortex of spinning air, a tornado is created. If it touches the earth, the vortex is tightened, increasing the windspeed. Depending on where it touches the earth, violence results.
When opposing forces collide, violence follows, not because God desires it, but because that is how we humans generally choose to use our gift of free will. In the maelstrom of God's love encountering human blindness, truth was twisted and events spun out of control. Unspeakable violence was the result. Not what God willed. And .not the end of the story.
To hear the Passion Gospel, familiar as it is, should make us feel bewildered, disoriented, much as we are when we can safely leave a storm cellar and survey the landscape that is at once familiar and yet utterly changed. The Incarnate Love of God is nailed to a cross. He does not return violence with violence, he does not call down Gods judgment upon his executioners. He speaks words of comfort to another dying man, and then he commits his spirit to God. We have done our worst. In our rage, in our fear, in our blindness, we have scapegoated God himself and executed him.
And still God loves us, and sets about bringing new life to a ravaged world.
