Most of us love stories with surprises. The disciples in Mark 16: 1-8 were in for a few surprises themselves. They went to the tomb that early Sunday morning bringing spices to anoint Jesus’ body worrying about the stone blocking the tomb. Unlike many doors in our homes, offices, and churches—with its specific locks and numeric codes—the disciples had no key to unlock the door.
They expected a locked tomb, they expected a dead body inside, and they expected to use the spices they brought to anoint that dead body. But, and we all know this already, when they got there the stone had already been rolled away, the tomb was empty, there was no dead body to anoint—Jesus was not where they expected him to be.
Like the disciples at the tomb, we want Jesus in a box, with a lock, where we could do whatever we want to do with him. Moreover, like the disciples we expect Jesus to be in Jerusalem. Jerusalem is supposed to be a holy place. It is where God is supposed to be. It is a monument to faith and the faithful. Do not forget this—the disciples went to the tomb expecting a dead Jesus. Over and over in the Markan story, especially in chapters 8, 9 and 10, Jesus told his followers that he will rise to life. Jesus’ followers did not believe him. They went to the tomb to anoint a dead person.
Dead people have no power over us. Sure we visit their graves once or twice a year. For many Christians, churches have become tombs—where they visit Jesus an hour or two once a week. A dead Jesus has no power over us; he cannot make demands on our lives, on our work, on our time, our talents, our treasures, our plans and commitments. A dead Jesus is a safe Jesus.
But alas, Jesus is not dead and he is not where we want him to be. He is risen. And he is not in heaven nor is he in Jerusalem. He is back in Galilee—where we don’t want him to be, among the sick, the poor, the demon-possessed, the marginalized. He is back in Galilee along the path that ultimately led to his crucifixion, along the path that ultimately led to the offering of his life.
He is risen! And he is already there waiting for us. Yes, for you and for me!
*image, "The Empty Tomb" (from St. Paul's Lutheran Church, Decatur, IL)
Reading the Bible inside a Jeepney: Celebrating Colonized and Occupied Peoples' capacity to beat swords into ploughshares; to transform weapons of mass destruction into instruments of mass celebration; mortar shells into church bells, teargas canisters to flowerpots; rifle barrels into flutes; U.S. Military Army Jeeps into Filipino Mass Transport Jeepneys.
Blog Archive
Saturday, March 30, 2024
Thursday, March 28, 2024
JUST AS HE TOLD YOU
It is very disconcerting to celebrate Easter Sunday apart from the horrors of the Friday before it, but many people find nothing problematic about this. The crucifix has become a fashion accessory for a lot of folks. They can do their Easter egg hunts, play with Easter Bunnies, enjoy their Easter sunrise services, and preach about a risen, triumphant Lord without any thought that the God we proclaim as risen was actually executed on Calvary. Jesus of Nazareth did not die. The Romans killed Jesus.
He was illegally arrested late night Thursday, then beaten, stripped naked, brutalized, flogged, and crucified by morning of Friday. He was a victim of state-sanctioned terrorism. We who call ourselves Christian actually follow an executed God.
Millions of our sisters and brothers died from COVID-19. Majority of them were defenseless against the virus, ravaged by the systemic violence of poverty, hunger, and the inequitable distribution of the world's wealth. Every day in our country, in Myanmar, in Sri Lanka, in many parts of Asia, Latin America, Africa, and the rest of the world, people are being crucified, victims of institutionalized oppression—genocide, racism, gender injustice, capital punishment, global capitalism, extra-judicial killings, militarization, and marginalization.
And now, every single day so many of our sisters and brothers are murdered in Gaza and in the West Bank, just like Jesus. They do not even get the dignity of a burial; their bodies remain under the rubble.
What does it mean to proclaim a resurrection faith in the midst of all these? What does it mean then for us, who are among these crucified peoples, to proclaim Jesus as risen from the dead?
Easter Sunday's lection from Mark tells us about a young man at the empty tomb. He tells the disciples that Jesus has been raised up and that "he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”
JUST AS HE TOLD YOU!
The Gospel of Mark ends in verse 8: the disciples were silent and afraid. Like many among us. We are afraid to speak truth to power. We are afraid to carry the cross and follow Jesus. We are afraid to go to Galilee. We are afraid to be executed like him.
What do we have? A promise of resurrection. God's promise. Jesus’ word. The young man said so: "Just as he told you."
Jesus’ word. Is this enough for us to believe? Is this enough for us to continue?
*art, "Easter, Empty Tomb," JESUS MAFA, 1973 (Cameroon), from the vanderbilt divinity library digital collection.
He was illegally arrested late night Thursday, then beaten, stripped naked, brutalized, flogged, and crucified by morning of Friday. He was a victim of state-sanctioned terrorism. We who call ourselves Christian actually follow an executed God.
Millions of our sisters and brothers died from COVID-19. Majority of them were defenseless against the virus, ravaged by the systemic violence of poverty, hunger, and the inequitable distribution of the world's wealth. Every day in our country, in Myanmar, in Sri Lanka, in many parts of Asia, Latin America, Africa, and the rest of the world, people are being crucified, victims of institutionalized oppression—genocide, racism, gender injustice, capital punishment, global capitalism, extra-judicial killings, militarization, and marginalization.
And now, every single day so many of our sisters and brothers are murdered in Gaza and in the West Bank, just like Jesus. They do not even get the dignity of a burial; their bodies remain under the rubble.
What does it mean to proclaim a resurrection faith in the midst of all these? What does it mean then for us, who are among these crucified peoples, to proclaim Jesus as risen from the dead?
Easter Sunday's lection from Mark tells us about a young man at the empty tomb. He tells the disciples that Jesus has been raised up and that "he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”
JUST AS HE TOLD YOU!
The Gospel of Mark ends in verse 8: the disciples were silent and afraid. Like many among us. We are afraid to speak truth to power. We are afraid to carry the cross and follow Jesus. We are afraid to go to Galilee. We are afraid to be executed like him.
What do we have? A promise of resurrection. God's promise. Jesus’ word. The young man said so: "Just as he told you."
Jesus’ word. Is this enough for us to believe? Is this enough for us to continue?
*art, "Easter, Empty Tomb," JESUS MAFA, 1973 (Cameroon), from the vanderbilt divinity library digital collection.
Thursday, March 21, 2024
TO BE CONTINUED...
Years back I had the rare privilege of attending meetings of the Jesus Seminar held in New Orleans. During one meeting, I asked the group, "Why did Jesus need to go to Jerusalem?" His Galilee-based, grassroots movement was doing great. Going to Jerusalem was suicide. Even his disciples knew this; they did not want to him to go to Jerusalem, especially Peter. It did not make sense. But Jesus went anyway. John Dominic Crossan volunteered John 7, where Jesus' brothers tell him, "No one who wants to be widely known acts in secret. If you do these things, show yourself to the world!" We all know how this story ends. But I don't think for a moment that Jesus went because of what his brothers said.
Gabriela Silang did not need to take over leadership after Diego was assassinated in 1763. Jose Rizal did not need to come back to the Philippines in 1892. Bonifacio did not need to go to the Magdalo camp in Cavite in 1896. Ernesto Che Guevara did not need to go to Bolivia in 1967. The scores of medical professionals, journalists, UN workers, and volunteers who went to Gaza to help the Palestinian People did not need to go there. We also know how these stories ended.
When Jesus entered Jerusalem he did so with over 5000, made up of mostly farmers and fisherfolk. Sunday's lection from Mark and John tell us the masses welcomed them with hosannas! Historians tell us, Pontius Pilate also entered the city from the opposite direction with a Roman Legion. (That is 6,000 professional soldiers!).
Jesus did not need to go to Jerusalem. Jesus did not need to cleanse the Temple with a whip. But, he did anyway. Mark reports that every single day the authorities tried to arrest him but they were afraid of the masses who protected him. So, they arrested him at night, with a Roman Cohort. (That is one battalion!)
First came a movement. Then an execution. But surprise of surprises, the movement continues. To this day!
Jesus knew exactly what he was doing!
Thus, movement, execution, and continuation. These three remain, but the greatest of these is continuation.
*art, "Entry into the City" by John August Swanson (available from the vanderbilt divinity library digital art collection).
Thursday, March 14, 2024
UNLESS A GRAIN OF WHEAT DIES...
Two of the more popular metaphors for the church come from Paul. When you ask people what the church is, as far as the New Testament is concerned, many will respond with "Body of Christ" or "Bride of Christ." There are actually more metaphors, and three of the most powerful come from Jesus: Salt. Light. And a grain of wheat.
We have heard so many homilies about these three. We are the salt of the earth, we give flavor to life. We are the light of the world, we push away the darkness. We are a grain of wheat, we need to bear fruit... We feel good about being salt, light, and a grain of wheat.
And we miss what those metaphors demand from us: all require self-sacrifice, all require emptying, all require death...
Salt dissolves. Light burns out. And as Jesus in Sunday's lection declares, "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit."
We should never forget what Jesus commands us: "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends." We should never forget what his earliest disciples remind us: "We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another."
We should never, ever, forget that we follow a Crucified and Risen Lord. There is no Resurrection without the Crucifixion.
*image from ConnectUSFund.
Thursday, March 07, 2024
GOD HAS A WOMB
Sunday's lection contains the favorite Bible verse of many Christians: John 3:16.
I like this narrative because two men--Jesus and Nicodemus--are talking about something they do not have and an experience they never go through: wombs and birthing. When Nicodemus asks Jesus if being being born anew meant going back into his mother's womb, Jesus says no. It is being born from God's womb.
Many among us learned about the Yahwist tradition in the Torah (the Pentateuch) which describes God in anthropomorphic terms: God forming Adam from the dust of the ground; God breathing into Adam's nostrils; God planting a garden; God walking in that garden; and God making garments for Adam and Eve. Yet, God is male in these imaginings.
Female imagery for the divine is rare in the Bible. Sunday's lection challenges us to imagine God as a woman. Sunday's lection challenges us to imagine God giving birth. Sunday's lection invites us to imagine God nursing her children.
Why? Because this is how John's Jesus imagined God. Because hundreds of Judean Pillar Figurines (JPFs) found in Ancient Judahite homes and cultic sites tell us that this is how the masses imagined God. God has a womb. God has breasts. God is a mother.
Friends, Sunday's lection challenges us to imagine God beyond the boxes we have created to contain God.
I like this narrative because two men--Jesus and Nicodemus--are talking about something they do not have and an experience they never go through: wombs and birthing. When Nicodemus asks Jesus if being being born anew meant going back into his mother's womb, Jesus says no. It is being born from God's womb.
Many among us learned about the Yahwist tradition in the Torah (the Pentateuch) which describes God in anthropomorphic terms: God forming Adam from the dust of the ground; God breathing into Adam's nostrils; God planting a garden; God walking in that garden; and God making garments for Adam and Eve. Yet, God is male in these imaginings.
Female imagery for the divine is rare in the Bible. Sunday's lection challenges us to imagine God as a woman. Sunday's lection challenges us to imagine God giving birth. Sunday's lection invites us to imagine God nursing her children.
Why? Because this is how John's Jesus imagined God. Because hundreds of Judean Pillar Figurines (JPFs) found in Ancient Judahite homes and cultic sites tell us that this is how the masses imagined God. God has a womb. God has breasts. God is a mother.
Friends, Sunday's lection challenges us to imagine God beyond the boxes we have created to contain God.
*image of JPFs from Femmina Classica [In Search of Ashera: The Hebrew Lost Goddess].
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