That We All May Be One

Last Sunday I was privileged to lead an adult Sunday school class in one of our New York parishes. Some twenty-five or thirty brave souls ventured out in the midst of a nor’easter not only to participate in the Eucharist, but continuing their formation as Christians as well. After the lecture and a good period of thoughtful questions and attempted answers, I was approached by three individuals.

The first, a young African American man, was finishing up a graduate degree and writing his dissertation on some aspects of “environmental sustainability.” He asked me what the churches were doing ecumenically about threats to the environment. I shared with him some of the efforts and programs of the World and National Councils of Churches, referred him to their web sites (www.wcc-coe.org and www.ncccusa.org) and agreed to meet with him to discuss the matter further.

The second was a young woman in her 20’s who said she was simply a visitor, had found the class quite interesting, and wondered if there was a church for “someone like her.” I soon discovered that “someone like her” meant an interested young seeker. Someone who sometimes thinks that the creeds are simply “beautiful myths” but really believes (and desires) them to be more than that.

I told her that I am sure many churches would welcome and value a bright, honest, young person like herself, asking legitimate questions and who appeared quite open to search for some answers. But, I said, the Episcopal Church is certainly one of those churches. We have a wide spectrum of belief within this church.

Some who do indeed believe the creeds to be “beautiful myths.” Others who hold both creed and scripture as literal truths. What binds us together, at our best, is a commitment to gather week by week at the Lord’s Table; listen to the old, old story; pray together; break the Bread and Share the cup of the Lord together in confidence that “when two or three are gathered together in his Name, he will be in the midst of them.”

And that he may even be made known to them “in the breaking of the Bread!”

The third, and final, person who approached me after class was a quiet young man whose accent sounded perhaps German. He simply asked if he could come in and chat sometime. I said, Sure, and gave him my card.

I wonder what we will talk about? 

“Come to him, to that living stone, rejected by men but in God’s sight chosen and precious; and like living stones be  yourselves built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ…you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, that you may declare the wonderful deeds who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (I Peter 2, passim)

My former diocese belonged, and still belongs, to a partnership called “Living Stones.” It is an association of (mostly) small dioceses exploring together the concept of what is sometimes called “total ministry.” That simply means mission and ministry rooted and grounded in our baptismal covenant in which all Christians, clergy and lay, are called to work together in teams in order to more visibly express the presence of the Body of Christ in their local communities and throughout the world.

In this concept of “team ministry” some of the negative effects of hierarchy, of clericalism, and its evil twin anti-clericalism are done away with, or at least minimized. For the sake of the gospel. For the sake of mission. For example, I like to replace the usual pyramidal paradigm with bishops on top, priests next, deacons next, and laity on the bottom (substitute your own nomenclature for the ordained and the lay) with a circle.

The circle has Christ at its center, the empowering means of grace like word and prayer and sacrament radiating out like the spokes of a wheel from Jesus, and the various ministries and ministers of the church found along the perimeter of the circle, none “higher” than the other, but each and all empowered by the same grace of God to carry out their several vocations.

I believe that is a much healthier and much more ancient model of ministry than the top-down, consumer/provider  forms of ministry we still see in much of the Church today,  in whatever denomination. We are together “a holy priesthood (meant) to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ!”

Our Father in heaven 

“Heaven” is wherever God is. God is the power/source/principle-of-rationality at the core of the universe and of all that is.

Hallowed be your Name 

This power/source/principle is beyond all final knowing or naming and can only be beheld in awe.

Your kingdom come 

The world and universe are not complete, but are constantly and ever evolving – we pray — into a better, more just and peaceful future.

Your will be done on earth as in heaven 

A sign of that ongoing evolution is our work in building a more just and peaceful planet.

Give us this day our daily bread 

We desire, hope, and even expect that our basic human needs will be provided for.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us 

We cannot expect mercy unless we are willing to grant it.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil 

We seek protection from destructive powers without and within.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and forever.

Ultimate sovereignty, power, and honor are due to no other being or system for all eternity. These things belong only to God.

Today I walked the Way of the Cross through the frigid streets of New York with Pax Christi. For twenty-five years this Catholic peace group has organized this Good Friday event as a public witness to the Passion of Christ and its relationship to issues of justice and peace. 

I.  We prayed the First Station “Jesus is condemned to death” at the United Nations around the theme of torture.  “Jesus, victim of torture, help us help all victims of torture.”

II. We prayed the Second Station “Jesus is made to carry the cross” opposite the Nigerian Consulate around the theme of Darur.  “May we find the strength to defend those who have no voice.”

III. We prayed the Third Station “Jesus falls the first time” across from the Jewish Simon Wiesenthal Tolerance Center around the theme of discrimination, particularly against Middle Eastern people.  “Forgive our violence toward each other.”

IV. We prayed the Fourth Station “Jesus meets his mother” in front of the Pfizer Pharaceutical Company seeking a world initiative to eradicate AIDS.  “Loving God, open our hearts to your word.”

V. We prayed the Fifth Station “Simon of Cyrene is forced to help carry the cross” on 42nd Street and 3rd Avenue in front of many shops and the Woolworth Tower around the themes of employment, wages and immigration. “Te lo pedimos, Senor (We ask you, O God).”

VI. We prayed the Sixth Station “Veronica wipes the face of Jesus” in front of the Grand Hyatt Hotel and Grand Central Station around the theme of helping the stranger. “God of mercy and justice, hear our prayer.”

VII. We prayed the Seventh Station “Jesus falls the second time” near the commercial banks of Madison Avenue on the theme of We, the privileged; we, the disenfranchised. “Oyenos, O Dios! (Hear us, O God)!”

VIII. We prayed the Eighth Station “Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem” opposite the New York Public Library around the theme of education, a national priority? “We pray that no child is denied the joys and happiness of a true childhood.”

IX. We prayed the Ninth Station “Jesus falls the third time” opposite Bryant Park on the theme of mother earth falling under the weight of consumerism. “Forgive us all.”

X. We prayed the Tenth Station “Jesus is stripped of his garments” on a grungy city street between Sixth Avenue and Broadway remembering our city stripped of affordable housing, “O God, hear our prayer.”

XI. We prayed the Eleventh Station “Jesus is nailed to the cross” at the busiest Armed Forces Recruiting Station in the country seeing our society nailed to the cross of militarization. “God of peace, forgive us.”

XII. We prayed the Twelfth Station “Jesus dies on the cross” at the same location in Times Square in opposition to the death penalty. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

XIII. We prayed the Thirteenth Station “Jesus is taken down from the cross” in front of the world’s largest McDonald’s restaurant asking the question, Will this culture sustain us? “Enough for everyone, forever!”

XIV. We prayed the Fourteenth Station “Jesus is laid in the tomb” beneath Disney Enterprises, Madame Tussaud’s and many garish billboards recognizing our need to find quiet space in the busy city for Jesus. “O God, help us to hear you.”

XV. We prayed the Fifteenth and final Station “The Resurrection of Jesus” in a spirit of recommitment. “We lay down our sword and shield. We will not study war any more.”

WHO WILL SPEAK IF WE DON’T?  WHO WILL SPEAK IF WE DON’T?

WHO WILL SPEAK SO THEIR VOICE WILL BE HEARD? OH, WHO WILL SPEAK IF WE DON’T?     

There was a wonderful piece in The Christian Century magazine last week by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan. It’s entitled “Collision Course” and it traces the events of Holy Week in the Gospel according to Mark.

It begins on Palm Sunday, of course, and speaks of two processions toward Jerusalem on that day. The first procession came from the western city of Caesarea. That procession was headed by the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, astride his war horse. Ever since a couple of riots had taken place in the Holy City on or around Passover, a cohort of Roman soldiers had been sent up to Jerusalem to reinforce the troops there and quell any possible trouble.

The second procession, from the east, was – of course – headed by Jesus, astride his donkey, acting out the prophecy from Zechariah which speaks of a king of peace on a donkey, banishing the war horse and the weapons of war from the land.  The two were on a “collision course:” Jesus versus Pilate — the nonviolence of the kingdom of God versus the violence of the Empire. The authors say that Lent and Holy Week are about Christians repenting for being in the wrong procession! We too often line up with the empire when we should be lining up with Jesus!

Palm Sunday night finds Jesus entering the temple, looking around, and then heading out of town to Bethany with his 12 friends. It was late by that time, and you don’t conduct demonstrations when nobody is around. So, he returns on Monday and matches his demonstration against Roman political power with one against the temple authorities. They had collaborated with the imperial system, and profited from it.

So, he turns the tables on them on Monday and calls the temple a “den of robbers.” I had never thought about it, but a den of robbers is not where robbers rob, but a “safe house” to which they return after having robbed somewhere else. It’s not what they were doing in the temple that was the problem. It’s what they were doing to the poor in their daily lives!

On Tuesday  Jesus gets into a series of conflicts with the temple authorities and finally ends up with what we sometimes call the “little apocalypse” in Mark 13 where he warns of the eventual destruction of the temple. He would have been arrested right then except that he was protected by the “pro Jesus” crowd who actually did regard Jesus at least as a prophet. So the authorities let him alone and he went away.

On Wednesday, the authorities give up and simply hope Jesus will eventually return to Galilee and leave them alone. But Judas, perhaps concerned about this as well, offers to find Jesus one evening so that they can arrest him without his supportive crowd. On Thursday night, Jesus shares a final meal with his closest friends and is arrested in a wooded area later that night.

His interrogation, torture and execution, of course, take place on Friday. That event is even recorded in extra-biblical history. The Jewish historian Josephus writes, “Pilate, upon hearing him accused by men of the highest standing among us, had condemned him to be crucified.”

Jesus is put to death by imperial power. Only to be raised, three days later, by divine power. The powers-that-be said “No” to Jesus. But God said “Yes.”  And it is that divine “Yes” that we are preparing to celebrate this week!

“We begin with Palm Sunday. Two processions entered Jerusalem at the beginning of the week of Passover, a tinderbox time in the city, with the Jewish people celebrating divine deliverance from the past Egyptian Empire while under the present Roman Empire. Two very large and very lethal riots took place precisely at Passover in the generations before and after (the year) 30 CE.

And so, at each Passover, the Roman governor — Pilate in the time of Jesus — rode up to Jerusalem from the imperial capital Caesarea on the coast at the head of a cohort of imperial cavalry and troops to reinforce the Roman garrison in Jerusalem as a deterrent against and preparation for any possible trouble. Pilate’s procession, arriving from the west, symbolized and actualized Roman imperial power.

Jesus entered the city from the east in another procession, a counterprocession. Whereas Pilate rode into the city on a war horse, Jesus entered on a donkey. Mark makes it clear that Jesus planned it in advance: he tells his disciples to go into a village to get a donkey and says, ‘If anyone says to you, Why are you doing this? just say this, the Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’

Implicitly in Mark 11:1-11 and explicitely in Matthew 21:4-5, the symbolism makes use of Zechariah 9:9-10, which speaks of a king of peace on a donkey who will banish the war horse and the battle bow from the land.

The contrast is clear: Jesus versus Pilate, the non-violence of the kingdom of God versus the violence of empire. Two arrivals, two entrances, two processions — and our Christian Lent is about repentance for being in the wrong one and preparation to abandon it for its alternative.” (“Collision Course,” Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, “The Christian Century,” March 20, 2007)

Ever since St. Paul struggled with conflicted feelings about his own “kindred” (see Romans 9-11) Christians have wrestled with our relationship with the Jewish people. From the sad history of Christian anti-Semitism to improved relations after World War II and especially after Vatican II, right on down to present-day disagreements (or at least tensions) about the situation in Israel-Palestine, it has never been easy.

While Anglicans have never been quite as clear as our Roman Catholic colleagues (for example, in the Vatican II document “Nostra Aetate”) about God’s irrevocable covenant with the Jews, a recent joint declaration by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Chief Rabbis of Israel comes close when it says, of the relationship between Jews and Christians:

“Our relationship is unique, not only historically and culturally but also scripturally, and for both religions, is rooted in the one overarching covenant of God with Abraham to which God remains faithful through all time.” As far as interfaith dialogue is concerned, “Neither evangelism nor conversion has a place amongst the purpose of the dialogue and we emphasize the importance of respect for each other’s faith and of rejecting actions intended to undermine the integrity of the other.”

For myself, I believe that God’s covenant with the Jewish people is irrevocable and that we Christians are best understood as “…a wild olive shoot grafted in their place to share the rich root of the olive tree.” (Romans 11:17). We are not to “boast over the branches” but to “remember that it is not you who support the root, but the root that supports you.”