Palm Sunday Power

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 29, 2015

Palm Sunday

Last summer at Christ Church, we tried our hand at creating a few small flash mobs around Springfield.  We had Flash Compline several times out on City Hall plaza before the weather got too cold to pray and stay warm at the same time.  We had a Christ Church Flash Mob lunch on National Road Commons, and we flash mobbed a Champion City Kings baseball game one evening. We wore whatever Christ Church apparel we had, gathered in a public place in a seemingly spontaneous manner, did what we came to do, and went home.  According to Wikipedia, the source of all knowledge (right?), a flash mob is a "group of people who assemble suddenly, perform an unusual act for a brief time, before quickly dispersing."  I have always thought of flash mobs where people converge on a busy location, like a mall or a post office or a downtown square, sing or play a lovely piece of music, and leave as quickly as they arrived.  These events take a great deal of planning and choreography, are brief, and generally leave the people who encounter the flash mob in better spirits than the flash mob found them.  Our little flash mobs were actually rather spontaneous, with the word spreading via emails and social media, but many of our flash mobs did involve song of some sort, and we got a lot of interesting looks from people driving by as we stood on City Hall Plaza to pray.  For those of us who would prefer to do things without drawing attention to ourselves, our gatherings felt a bit edgy.  We even had a photographer show up once and take photos of our flash Compline before realizing that he was in the wrong place on City Hall plaza.

So I invite us this morning to think of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem as a first century flash mob.  Most of the story, the first 7 verses in fact, is spent in preparation as we hear Jesus give two disciples specific instructions on how they are to procure the colt he will ride into Jerusalem.  They are to go into the village and find a colt that has never been ridden.  If they are stopped and asked why they are taking the colt, they are to say that the Lord needs the colt and will send it back immediately.  These things come to pass exactly as Jesus describes them, and the disciples throw their cloaks on the animal and Jesus takes a seat.  The next three verses describe the flash mob itself.  We hear that people spread their cloaks and leafy branches on the road, and that they sang words from Psalm 118, an enthronement psalm.  The mood is joyful, triumphant and full of hope as the parade enters the city.  Some people are probably curiosity seekers, but some are longing for a better tomorrow and they are sure that Jesus has come to make a better tomorrow happen.  Whatever people's motives for gathering along the road, no doubt they are encouraged and uplifted by the joyful procession.  Then Jesus enters Jerusalem, goes into the temple, looks around at everything and leaves.

On the one hand, Palm Sunday involves a great display of power.  Jesus is clearly in command of the events, which come off without a hitch.  A huge number of people seem to have lined his route to welcome him into the city as their king.  Jesus enters Jerusalem without incident or encountering any opposition.  If we did not already know the rest of the story, we could easily think that Jesus was destined for success.

But on the other hand, we do know the rest of the story, which leads us to use this story to think about true power as we plunge into Holy Week.  If we dig a little deeper into the story, what does Palm Sunday power look like?

First, Palm Sunday power is subversive.  Jesus does intend to undermine an existing system of power and oppression, and in an unrecognizable way, at least for now.  Jesus is on a colt, not a war horse, which he promises to have returned to its owner.  Jesus has no weapons of war, nor does he command any soldiers.  His followers sing psalms.  He has to pick his way slowly into the city trying to navigate the colt that has never been ridden over a path with a bunch of coats and branches on it.  On the surface, this is a recipe for disaster, not the overthrow of a system of power.  Jesus will over thrown the powers that be, but in a most unexpected way.

Secondly, Palm Sunday power is political.  Jesus identifies with the poor, the vulnerable, victims of discrimination and injustice when he rides into Jerusalem.  Jesus comes into Jerusalem on a borrowed colt.  People have given the coats off their backs to line the streets, not symbols of power and glory.  The procession is glorious, but simple as the people sing their praise. The people have gathered to see Jesus enthroned as King, a clearly political act, but Jesus will not get his crown until Good Friday.

Lastly, Palm Sunday power is about peace.  Jesus does not ride into Jerusalem looking to pick a fight.  He comes into the city, goes to the Temple, looks around, and leaves.  What kind of triumphal entry is that?  The power of Jesus will be displayed in another manner, a manner more powerful than anyone watching Jesus enter Jerusalem can imagine. But brute force will not be involved, at least not on Jesus' part.  No methods commonly used in the overthrow of power will be employed by Jesus.  Our understanding of power will be transformed.

And so, with Palm Sunday, we, are plunged into Holy Week as followers of Jesus.  On the one hand, as disciples of Jesus, we are called to walk this journey with the one who rode into Jerusalem to turn ideas of power and success upside down.  On the other hand, I can identify with the crowds who sang "Hosanna!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Send us now success!"  Can't we just fast forward to Easter?

The truth is that Easter will come next Sunday whether we journey with Jesus this week or not.  And that is a great blessing.  But if we leap from "Blessed is the name of the Lord" straight to the great Easter acclamation which involves the word in the tomb in front of the altar, we are thinking like the crowds who walked with Jesus this morning.  We will move from the desire for a great display of military power and the coronation of a King to the great display of God's power raising Jesus from the dead without allowing our understanding of real power to be transformed.  The details of Palm Sunday tell us that Jesus is about something other than claiming raw power.  As we walk through the events of Holy Week, the mighty power of God will be revealed in ways that are consistent with the arrival in Jerusalem of an unarmed Messiah on the back of a confused colt.

Amen.

We wish to see Jesus

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 22, 2015

5 Lent B

The evening of December 10, 2010 was a transformative moment for me.  Our vestry had worked for over a year to bring the Dayton Gay Men' Chorus to Christ Church for their holiday concert, a first for Springfield in many ways.  The vestry and I had been clear from the beginning of our conversation with the chorus that we wanted to host this group and we wanted to host them exceptionally well.  Anything other than the finest hospitality would send a very bad message to the Chorus and to the community.  After a year and a half of conversation and intense planning, the evening finally arrived.  The church was packed and we could feel the energy in this space.  Electricity was in the air.  The music was glorious. You all more than rose to the occasion and we had greeters all over the building to welcome people and help them find whatever they might need.  The reception was grand.  But the piece that was transformative for me, and that both broke my heart and filled my heart with joy all at the same time was the number of people who came up to me after the concert, some with tears in their eyes, and said "This is the first time I have ever felt welcome in a church."  I don't know what people came here expecting that night, and I think some people took a risk far bigger than I can imagine to set foot in a church.  I had never understood the extent to which people believe they will not be welcome in a church.  But that night, you offered the hospitality of Jesus to people who had never felt welcome before. And they felt welcome here.

Last spring, when my colleague Anne Reed and I were in England studying the ordination process there, we met Ben Norton, a priest who is creating faith communities outside the walls of the traditional church.  Before Ben became a priest, he was a hair stylist.  When Ben goes to a new community as a priest, the first thing he does is get a job one day a week at a hair salon.  While he cuts people's hair, he listens to their stories, hears their hopes and fears, and is present to them in a way that allows them to talk.  Most of these people have never set foot in a church, or have set foot in a church and have fled.  After a few months of cutting hair and hearing people's stories, Ben knows what is on their hearts.  He has heard where God is present in their lives, whether the people recognize God or not.  Then Ben can create communities where people can come together and begin to see where God is working in their midst.  Ben's work is based on the belief that people do experience God in their lives.  Sometimes we just need help recognizing God's work.  Ben is coming to Southern Ohio next month, and will be at Christ Church one evening.  I encourage you to come and hear his stories about creating communities of faith where people experience the love of God and begin to recognize the places they experience God in their every day lives.

When the Greeks come to Philip this morning and say to him "Sir, we wish to see Jesus," I don't think they want to look at Jesus.  I believe they want to experience Jesus, to engage Jesus.  They want to experience this extraordinary person who has changed water into wine, fed the 5000, and raised Lazarus from the dead.   Who wouldn't want to experience a person like that?  But when Philip and Andrew tell Jesus of the Greek's request, Jesus' answer is a bit off-putting.  Rather than welcome the Greeks, or suggest a more convenient time, Jesus says "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.  Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain.  But if it dies, it bears much fruit.  Those who love their life lose it and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life."  That is a rather complicated and confusing response to "Sir, we wish to see Jesus."

At this point in the gospel, Jesus does not have a lot of time to indulge curiosity seekers.   If the Greeks, or anyone else for that matter, really want to experience Jesus, Jesus wants them to know that following him is not simply a matter of watching as water is changed into wine or as a person is raised from the dead.  Following Jesus is about dying to self so that others may live.  For Jesus, that meant death on the cross and resurrection-the grain dying so that much fruit can be born.  For some of Jesus' followers, death will be the cost of discipleship and others will be moved by their faith to become followers themselves.  But for most of us, dying to self is the daily discipline of taking a risk, putting ourselves aside, and stepping out in faith to show others the hospitality of Jesus, or setting self aside to truly listen to the hopes and fears of others, believing that, in Jesus, the grain has been scattered and fruit is just waiting to emerge.

In the passage from Jeremiah, we hear God say "I will put my law within them and I will write it on their hearts.  I will be their God and they will be my people.  No longer will they teach one another, or say to each other "Know the Lord" for they shall all know me."  God wants to be known. God wants to be experienced.  Jesus showed us how to make God known by setting himself aside, by being willing to die to self so that all people might be drawn to him and much fruit might be born.  In Jesus, the grain has been scattered.  Jesus's words to the Greeks and Jesus' call to us is to set ourselves aside, be willing to take a risk, and give ourselves over to the task of looking and listening for where the grain has fallen in our midst so that others can recognize Jesus.

Amen.

Of Snakes and Jesus

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 15, 2015

4 Lent B

If our reading from Numbers this morning was the totality of Scripture, I would have probably found something else to do with my life.  The problem is not so much the snakes, although they are a bit problematic.  A long time ago in a church not so far away but in another diocese, a parishioner brought his very large pet snake, draped around his shoulders, to church on the Feast of St. Francis for the animal blessing.  The parishioner did not much care for women priests and I did not much care for snakes.  So we were even.  But while a serpent may have gotten Eve to eat the forbidden fruit and be evicted from the Garden of Eden, I was going nowhere.  I blessed the snake with all the conviction I would have blessed a lovely plate of chocolate chip cookies and moved on down the line without so much as a grimace, at least on the outside.  But this morning my problem is less with snakes and more with God.  The Hebrew people have been wandering around in the wilderness for a while now.  The bit of grumbling we hear this morning is not the first time they have grumbled against God by a long shot.  Just about as quickly as God gets the people out of Egypt, they are complaining about a lack of good water to drink.  God shows Moses a piece of wood that Moses can throw into the water to make the bitter water more sweet and drinkable.  Not many verses later, the people are longing to go back to Egypt where at least they had decent food to eat.  So, God gives the people manna, or bread from heaven, to satisfy their hunger.  Then, thirst strikes again, and the people accuse Moses of bringing them out into the wilderness to kill them with thirst.  This time, Moses strikes a rock with his staff and water emerges from the rock for people to drink.

But this morning, God appears to have had enough.  We are told that the people spoke against God and against Moses and said "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?  For there is no food and no water and we detest this miserable manna."  The people have just told God that they detest the very life giving bread God has provided.  My mother always told us not to bite the hand that feeds us.  Perhaps the Hebrew people should have thought of that.  Because now God loses patience.  God sends poisonous serpents among the people.  The serpents bite the people and they die.  As a result, the people recognize the error of their ways and repent.  They ask Moses to ask God to take away the serpents.  But rather than actually remove the creatures, God tells Moses to make a poisonous serpent and set it on a pole, so that those who look at the snake on a stick will live.  Where Moses got the bronze, the mold, and the fire to make the bronze serpent, we are not told.  But Moses does as he was told and anyone with a snake bite could look at the serpent and live.

The story leaves me with many questions about God.  Why is God's patience suddenly exhausted by the complaining Hebrews?  Not only do the Hebrews complain in the wilderness, but the psalms are full of complaints hurled against God.  We just call them laments instead of complaints.  I certainly do my share of complaining to God.  My guess is that I am not alone.  So, I'd like to know what put God over the edge so I don't go there.  Why does God take such drastic action against the people?  Why doesn't God simply take the serpents away rather than have Moses enshrine one and require that the people look at the serpent to be healed?  Is the purpose of the bronze serpent to remind the people of their wickedness?  Isn't that a lot like kicking people when they are down?

While I don't have good answers to any of these questions, the questions are floating around in my mind when I hear Jesus say to Nicodemus "Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that whoever believes in him may have eternal life."   Somehow, Jesus calls us to use the disturbing story about Moses and the serpents to understand the cross on which Jesus will soon be lifted up.  What connections does Jesus want us to make?

Here are some ideas.  First, in the story from Numbers, rather than take away the serpents, God turns the image of this agent of death into an agent of life.  By looking at the bronze serpent that has been lifted up, the people are healed and they live.  Likewise, God will take the cross, an instrument of death, and when Jesus is lifted up on the cross, it will become an agent of life.  In John's gospel, the cross and resurrection are two pieces of one action, so in the cross, John also sees resurrection.  Secondly, perhaps instead of getting rid of the serpents, God has Moses lift a bronze likeness on a pole so the people can remember both their wickedness and God's mercy.  One of my least favorite lines in the Book of Common Prayer comes in the Ash Wednesday service when the priest offers absolution with the words "Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who desires not the death of sinners, but rather that they may turn from their wickedness and live."  Wickedness is a strong word, and one I would rather avoid myself.  But the word does point to the fundamental but painful truth that we are capable of deep separation from God and that separation is of our own doing, not God's.  The good news is that our salvation is completely dependent on God's mercy not our own goodness.

Lastly, in my imagination, once Moses lifts the bronze serpent up before the people and people begin to be healed when they look at the creature, people begin to tell their friends and neighbors and soon everyone is drawn to the bronze serpent, and they all begin to be healed. They are reminded of the cause of their affliction, for sure, but they are also united in the reminder that God's healing power is even more powerful than their own wickedness.  They are not only reminded, but shown, that God is the source of healing and life.  They are reminded that God can be trusted to take the serpents of death and create life.  When Jesus is lifted up, crucified then resurrected, for all the world to see, we are drawn together and with God as we engage both our rebelliousness and God's great power and love for us, as God takes the agent of death and creates life.

John 3:16 is perhaps the most well know verse in all of Scripture.  "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."  John's words from there are quite polemical, which is unfortunate but reflects the reality of the tensions in late first century Judaism and Christianity.  The deeper message of John's gospel is that God acted out of love for the whole world, and with the desire to draw the whole world together and to God, as the agent of death was transformed into the agent of life.  John calls us not to look away from the cross on Good Friday, but to engage the cross.  Only on the cross will we be able to see Jesus lifted up and to wait, trusting, as all death is transformed into new life.

Amen.

A Broken and Contrite Heart

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 8, 2015

3 Lent B

My Lenten discipline this year is a practice called "40 bags in 40 days."  The discipline is to collect one bag of clutter every day during Lent and donate the bag to a charity.  Thus far, on average, I have managed to collect at least one bag of clutter each day.  The information on the practice neglected to mention the option of returning some of the clutter to the children who generated the mess in the first place, which is one option I have employed, much to their dismay.  While I was cleaning out one of the closets in our son Slocomb's old room, I found a copy of the Oxford College Student Honor Code. Why Slocomb saved that, I have no idea.  The code is a trifold 8.5 by 11 inch piece of paper in a font that truly requires a magnifying glass, or, I suppose, 18 year old eyes rather than middle aged eyes.  The preamble to the Honor Code states "The Honor Code is based on the fundamental expectations that every person in Oxford College will conduct his or her life according to the dictate of the Honor Code and will refuse to tolerate actions in others which would violate the honor code."  The following 5 columns of seriously small print define what constitutes an infraction of the Honor Code and how those infractions are handled.  In detail.  On the one hand, reading through the fine print feels almost oppressive, as if the expectation is that someone will cheat and the Honor Code spells out the consequences.  But the reality is quite different. The Honor Code actually  describes how people are to live in community with one another.  Because the students, faculty and staff agree to live by this code, people are free to be themselves, to offer their best work knowing that everyone else is offering only their own best work, and to trust each other.  Rather than living in a state of Marshall law, the campus is quite relaxed and trust is created by the Honor Code.

This morning, we hear about a different sort of Honor Code in the reading from Exodus.  The reading begins by setting the 10 commandments in the context of liberation.  "I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery."  If God went to all that trouble to deliver the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt, God is probably not going to lay down laws to create a new form of slavery.  While in Egypt, the people were forced to work until their lives were bitter.  Moses could not know his own mother except through her cunning and deceit.  Moses killed an Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew slave.  The 10 commandments did not order the Hebrew people's lives while they were in slavery.  Only once they were free did God give them the 10 commandments.  The people are now free to honor their parents, to keep the Sabbath, and not to murder or commit adultery.  And most importantly, they are free to worship only God.

In the gospel reading, we hear that Jesus has gone to the temple for the Passover.  The Passover is the festival that marks the Hebrew's miraculous escape from Egypt.  Clearly the creators of the lectionary want us to connect the 10 commandments with the story of Jesus throwing the money changers out of the temple.  But what is the connection?

I am convinced that the money changers believed they were doing what the Hebrew Scriptures required.  Based on their understanding of the law as received by Moses, the first century Jews and generations before them had a complicated system of sacrifices that they were to make at the temple. Sacrifices were a way to worship God, to give thanks to God, or to ask God's forgiveness for a wrongdoing.  All of these are very worthy actions. People would come for miles, usually on foot, to worship and to offer their sacrifices as required by Scripture.  In order for those sacrifices to be worthy of God, the animals had to be perfect, which was next to impossible for worshipers who had to walk for miles in the dusty heat to get to Jerusalem.  So, appropriate animals were sold at the Temple and people could buy them when they arrived.  So far, so good. But....the coins of the realm had the emperors image on them and could not be used at the temple, which was the realm of God.  So the secular coins had to be exchanged for temple currency.  That exchange was the job of the money changers.  And since we all have to make a living, there was a certain mark up, both for the money changers and for the sale of the animals.  But the honest and faithful intent was to provide a way for those who traveled miles to get to the temple to offer the most appropriate sacrifices to God as the law of God required.

But Jesus is not impressed, to put it mildly.  What is Jesus so worked up about?  The prophets had long told the people that what God desired was the sacrifice of the heart, not burnt offerings.  In a few weeks, we will hear Jeremiah say "But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord.  I will put my law within them and I will write it on their hearts, and I will be their God and they will be my people."  On Ash Wednesday, we prayed Psalm 51 together, which includes the words "The sacrifice of God is a troubled heart; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."  The prophet Joel says to the people, in a passage we also hear on Ash Wednesday "Rend your hearts and not your garments."  I wonder if Jesus was so worked up about the money changers because, according to the story, those sacrifices had become a financial transaction and not a transaction of the heart.  But, according to the prophets, God desires the hearts of the people God has set free.

In the psalm this morning, we hear the Psalmist's gratitude for the law.  "The law of the Lord is perfect and revives the soul.  The testimony of the law is sure and gives wisdom to the innocent.  The statutes of the law are just and rejoice the heart.  The commandment of the law is clear and gives light to the eyes."  The commandments of God are not a burden.  Rather, those commandments  rejoice the heart.  During Lent, Jesus barges into our lives as Jesus barged into the Temple, and challenges us to live with the hearts of people who have been set free.  Our Lenten disciplines are meant to form our hearts in freedom and gratitude.  When I grumble to my husband that I could more easily give up chocolate than deal with the clutter in the house, I am failing to let my heart be formed by letting go of stuff.  In Lent, and always, Jesus calls us to live as people whose lives are ordered by gratitude for our freedom in Christ.  If all of our actions, both as individuals and as a community, are ordered by the gratitude of people who have been set free, we will keep the commandments of God naturally.  We will live as individuals and a community that loves God with all our hearts and loves our neighbor as ourselves.  Our hearts will belong to God and God's heart will rejoice.

                                        Amen

Jesus Goes First

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
March 1, 2015

2 Lent B

I had my first mountain top experience when I was sixteen.  I was invited to serve on a team of high school students who brought a renewal weekend retreat for high school students to the Diocese of Arkansas.  The event was a year in the planning, which seemed like forever to my 16 year old self.  There were countless details to attend to, not the least of which was convincing people to come.  When the weekend finally arrived we were ready. The weekend was filled with deep and meaningful conversation, moving worship, spirit-filled singing, new friendships, and precious little sleep.  The presence of God was palpable and we all experienced something much greater than the sum of the parts.  We left the mountain, literally, as the retreat was on Petit Jean Mountain in Morrilton, Arkansas, and went back to our normal, day to day lives, where, in my experience, school work was still difficult, kids were still less than friendly, and parents were still unreasonable.  I might have been changed by my weekend, but the rest of the world was unchanged, and my landing was hard.  But I will also say that my greater growth came more from the hard landing than the mountain top experience.

Peter is also experiencing a rough landing this morning.  Peter and the disciples have watched Jesus heal many people.  Jesus has fed the 5000 and walked on water.  He has raised a little girl to life and cast a legion of demons out of a man.  He has stilled a storm.  Peter and the other disciples are following a man who can do anything!  Immediately prior to our gospel reading this morning, Jesus asks the disciples "Who do people say that I am?"  The disciples answer "John the Baptist, and others, Elijah, and still others, one of the prophets."  Jesus asks "But who do you say that I am?"  Peter answers "You are the Messiah."  In Mark's gospel, Jesus' answer is a bit understated, as he sternly orders the disciples to tell no one about him.  But in Matthew's gospel, Jesus says "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah.  For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church."  And Jesus goes on to give Peter the keys to the kingdom of heaven.

When we catch up with Peter this morning, he must be on cloud nine.  But then, he hears words he does not understand, and his landing is hard.  Jesus tells the disciples that he, Jesus, who Peter has just recognized as the long awaited Messiah, will undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.  How can that even be possible?  How can the person who can heal every infirmity, including death, say that he will be killed?  How can the Messiah possibly suffer and die?  Peter is apparently quite vocal in his reaction to Jesus' words, as Jesus replies "Get behind me, Satan!"  A harder landing is hard to imagine.

Then Jesus tells the disciples and the crowds "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and pick up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake and for the sake of the gospel will save it."

The gospel of Mark was written in about 70 C.E., around the time of the fall of Jerusalem to the Romans.  Christians were being persecuted for their faith, forced from their homes, families were being torn apart, and people were being tortured and killed because they believed in Jesus.  These were second or perhaps third generation Christians-people whose parents or grandparents might have been the original followers of Jesus or followers of followers.  Easter was a very real experience for them and the stories of Jesus and the disciples were very much alive.  Christians waited anxiously for the return of Jesus, hoping that Jesus would return to deliver them from the evil being inflicted upon them.  Their landing from the mountain top was as difficult as landings get, as Jesus did not return and their faith resulted in tragic loss.  I imagine their faith was sorely tested and they must have wondered what they had gotten wrong if their Easter faith had such Good Friday results.

The situation of the Christians to whom Mark was originally written is not that different from the situation of Christians and others in the Middle East that we read about in the news day in and day out.  Beheadings, people being burned alive, and other atrocities make me, at least, want to shut the news out and look the other way.  And I often do.  But that is not the faithful response.  Jesus tells the disciples, and us, and all Christians to pick up our cross and follow him.  Jesus does not live on the mountain top and neither can we.  The cross we are all called to pick up is the cross of Christ with which we were sealed at our baptism, and follow Jesus.  And Jesus leads us through the suffering and death to new life, not around the suffering and death.

For us, as Christians living in safety, following Jesus means naming evil, speaking up for our brothers and sisters living in terror, responding when we can with material aid, calling on our government to take action against the perpetrators, and engaging in deep prayer on behalf of those who are being persecuted.  When I turn my head and look the other way, I am like Peter, who wanted a Messiah on his own terms, which involved quick resolution of pain and suffering.  Jesus had harsh words to say about that.  Jesus calls us to pick up our cross, look evil in the eye and say "enough."  We can dare to do that because we believe in the God of outrageous promises-the God who promised the aging Abraham and Sarah descendants that numbered the stars of the sky, and the God who will soon turn Good Friday into Easter.  God may be revealed on the mountain top, but God calls us to follow Jesus, who always goes first, but never goes around.

Amen.