March 24, 2013 (Palm Sunday)
Text:Luke 19:28-40
28 After he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. 29 When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, 30 saying, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 31 If anyone asks you, “Why are you untying it?” just say this: “The Lord needs it.” ’ 32 So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. 33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, ‘Why are you untying the colt?’ 34 They said, ‘The Lord needs it.’ 35 Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. 36 As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. 37 As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, 38 saying,
‘Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven,
and glory in the highest heaven!’
39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, order your disciples to stop.’ 40 He answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.’
*****
So here we are at Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week. I imagine that for many of us here it seems more like the end of Holy Week, having held vigil these past days as one of our great prophets passed on. You will have to forgive me if I am somewhat out of step with the liturgical season, and all too eager to speak of death and resurrection.
Having learned over the weekend that Gordon's spirit was ready to let go and that his bodily rhythms were steadily winding down, Joseph and I went to spend a few moments with him and Mary on Monday afternoon. By this time Gordon was curled up like a baby, close to completing the circle. His breathing was belabored, and he struggled to speak and open his eyes. We got down close to his bed, touched him, and thanked him. We told him 'You have been a witness. We are so grateful for the gift you have given. We walk beside you as you prepare to cross over.' Then, at Mary's sweet yet firm Southern insistence, Joseph led those of us gathered in prayer. In these moments, and I'm sure in many others, that small room on Christ House's second floor was transformed into a 'thin place,' a space in which the sacred is immediately palpable.
That same spirit was present on Wednesday night, when over a hundred people gathered at The Potter's House following the news of Gordon's death in the early hours that morning. People from all different walks of life shared about their encounter with this humble man from Lynchburg, one who at first glance didn't appear all that inspiring, and how it fundamentally changed their life's direction. Formerly homeless and would-have-been millionaires, prominent public figures and the everyday anonymous, we all gathered in gratitude for this life. Knowing that Gordon was the only one who could have brought us all together, we wondered what the loss of this particular somebody might mean for our collective body.
*****
In today's passage from Luke's gospel, we see that death and resurrection mark not only distinct moments in the life of Jesus. They also name movements within the wider life of those that follow in his name. In other words, the called community is one that is always dying and rising according to the Spirit's leading. And it is not always clear to us which movement comes next, whether mourning or dancing awaits us. Indeed, we see in the story of Palm Sunday that dying and rising can be deeply intertwined, to the point of becoming indistinguishable.
In Luke 19, we find Jesus on the way to Jerusalem. The time to proclaim a radically new way within the centers of power has come. Sending two disciples ahead, he instructs them to retrieve a colt, an animal lacking in regal splendor yet rife with prophetic symbolism. For as Zechariah wrote long ago, one day a king would come like no other, one 'humble, and riding a colt,' who would banish war and bring peace. It seems this prophetic promise is what brought the great multitude to the edges of the city, placing down their cloaks and waving palms.
The political stakes of this peasant celebration become even clearer as the camera pans out, for a procession of an entirely different order was taking place across the city. A Roman imperial procession of cavalry and foot soldiers, led by the regional governor Pilate, was entering Jerusalem just in time for Passover. This commanding display of power was carefully orchestrated to prevent the memory of Exodus from becoming a present reality. Jesus and his followers don't seem to have gotten the message. Or more accurately, they chose to disrupt Empire's claims, pronouncing the inauguration of a new order in its very midst.
This Spirit-enlivened insurrection is itself an act of resurrection, drawing together and breathing new life into the downtrodden hopes of those who live beneath the boot. It is the raucous ringing in of the Year of Jubilee, of an economy of abundance rooted in God's providential care for all creation. Palm Sunday marks the point when the Kingdom of God goes public, when the powers that be are given notice that their days are over. It is the bold in-breaking of a wholly different reign.
And yet things did not turn out as expected - in fact, this act of resurrection set off a chain of events leading to Jesus' crucifixion. Within five days of his coronation this 'king of the Jews' was dead. Dying alongside Jesus were the movement's hopes for the overthrow of Rome and liberation of Israel. For many this was proof enough that Jesus was not the Messiah. Yet what some realized on the other side of the rolled-away stone was that the Messiah had indeed come. Put to death in those dark days were their assumptions about what would happen when he arrived.
This Son of David would not swoop in, establishing himself as a hero and appointing the Twelve as his junta. Had he done so, he would have rightly been forgotten with all the others. No, this revolution was different. It would bubble up from the bottom, enlivening small communities all across the empire. It would empower women, slaves, and outsiders to claim the Exodus story as their own. It would trade the sword for a deeply subversive form of love. The Jesus movement, in effect, had to die and rise with Jesus in order to embody this new way in the world. Those gathered on Palm Sunday had to walk with Jesus through the passion to participate in the reality of his resurrection.
*****
Not everyone knows about the small 'd' deaths that proceeded the new life so many of us have found in The Church of the Saviour. When Gordon returned home from the war, he was on fire to see the whole church renewed. Yet the humble way he went about doing so was not his initial plan. Young and ambitious man that he was, he sought to present his vision for the 21st Century church to prominent philanthropist and ecumenical advocate John D. Rockefeller, Jr. He thought that if this powerful and wealthy man would back him, things could really get cooking. Heading up to New York in his Sunday best, Gordon didn't make it past the front office. Rockefeller's assistant wisely sensed that a large sum of money would have drained this young pastor's vision of its spiritual power. Gordon left empty-handed and emotionally deflated. To make a long story short, The Church of the Saviour's held its first service not in a gleaming downtown church but a run-down old boarding house, which they scrubbed clean and painted themselves. Nine people made the member's commitment that day. From this initial gathering grew a whole new way of envisioning church centered on the small, Spirit-called group of deeply committed people.
The mainline denominations, too, chose not to support this pastor and his dreams of a vibrant and vital Christianity. These bishops found Gordon to be too idealistic and perhaps even a bit cocky. (Elizabeth O'Connor didn't put it that way in the official record but one could easily imagine.) They thought the idea of a racially integrated church in 1940's Washington was incendiary and something to be avoided. This forced independence ultimately freed The Church of the Saviour to draw on diverse streams of the church, bringing together elements of evangelical discipline, mainline social conscience, and Catholic spirituality. It also enabled The Church of the Saviour to serve as a source of inspiration and renewal across the wider church. I can think of no other community whose conversation partners span such a theological and cultural spectrum.
Following those early lessons, openness to the dying and rising that the Spirit would invite came to mark the church and its structures. Gordon and others shared a real sense that we must let go of that which no longer serves life and intently listen for the Call placed on us both individually and communally. In 1976, the church made a radical decision, one that from the outside appeared foolish. With only 150 members, and just as its ministries to the city's marginalized were really taking off, the Church decided to disperse into smaller faith communities. The vision of The Church of the Saviour as a well-ordered, world-changing single congregation was broken open so that the Spirit could carry its members more deeply into the life of the world. This was an exciting time, as Seekers, Eighth Day, Jubilee, and Potter's House Church were soon born. Yet I am sure it was a painful time too. Lives were being called different directions, and ever-widening circles made it difficult to keep everyone together. Not everyone thought entering the diaspora was such a good idea.
It is difficult to even consider all the new life that has grown from this decision to follow the Spirit through the 'death' of one way of being church. When the Church of the Saviour was founded, it was unheard of that Baptists, Presbyterians, and Catholics would worship with one another. It was radical for black folks and white folks to even sit together as brothers and sisters. Yet how much more did the Spirit have prepared for us? Who could have known that Eighth Day's communion table would stretch beyond our borders, defying national law and providing sanctuary for Central American refugees? Who could have foreseen Seekers church celebrating one of the first Christian marriages between women in DC? Who would have guessed that Church of the Saviour traditions would be intimately joined with black cultural expressions in the form of Friends of Jesus church? As we give ourselves to the dying, relinquishing control over how we think things should go, the Spirit breathes new life in us, raising us to heights we couldn't have even imagined before.
Nearly forty years later, it is no secret that we continue to seek out structures that will serve life and respond to Call. We no longer have Gordon with us on the Way, a scout who has gone out ahead. Yet I know that as we trust the Spirit and each other we will be taken care of, and we'll be taken to new places.
In our remaining time together, I would love to hear where you see signs of new life in our community, or even about how you are trying to give yourself over to the work of dying. Or, if you would like to share a short story of how Gordon or others who have crossed over helped to birth new life within you, that would be great too.