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Readings: Psalm 118:14-24, Luke 24:1-12, Secrets of Heaven #5407 (see below)
See also on Youtube Photo credit: Simon Berger on Pexels The Easter story in the gospel of Luke contains this unique and provocative question: Why do you look for the living among the dead? On the surface of it, of course the women were looking for Jesus in the tomb. They had all seen him die, they had seen Joseph of Arimathea take down his body from the cross and put it there. Now they were returning after the Sabbath in order to anoint Jesus’ body according to their burial customs. They were trying to do right by him, and express both their grief and their care. But then they encounter some light-filled beings, who utter this perplexing question: Why do you look for the living among the dead? We can imagine the women saying to themselves; where else would we be looking for him? In a cosmic sense, of course, this question points to what Jesus had been saying all along. For peace, joy, contentment, holy curiosity and gratitude, for all the things that make us alive and thriving and growing, why do we not look to God’s kingdom instead of the superficial values of the world? Why do we look for thriving amongst that which makes us small, cramped, desperate and blind? Why do we look for aliveness within that which destroys the heart and soul? It is a rhetorical question, of course. We are human. We will be naturally drawn to that which is exciting, that which brings us power and wealth, that which is easy, that which makes us feel good in the moment. Why do we look for the living among the dead? Because we don’t yet know what spiritually whole living really looks like. We live into this knowledge and the answers are hard-won. We walk the path and pay attention and we ask questions and learn the difference between what brings us life, and what kills our spirit. So, it is not as if God is trying to shame us by asking this question. In the end, how were the women really to know? Yes, Jesus had predicted the resurrection but it was so very truly out of the realm of their experience. Could they possibly have believed it ahead of time? Would any of us have done so? Rather, the question prompts us to look toward the following declaration: He is not here, He is risen. The women were looking for one thing and found completely another. They looked inside the tomb and it was empty. Jesus was resurrected from death to life. What does that really mean? How do we make sense of these words? We try to make sense of it theologically by saying that God is able to take on death and bring out life, that God is able to bring goodness out of evil. This is truly amazing news, but it is important to make sure we are clear on what this means. The resurrection does not transform evil into good. It does not introduce a relativism that makes everything okay. It is not a forgiveness of sins that is about a lack of accountability, or getting a free pass, or forgetting that evil exists, or making suffering magically disappear. In the words of Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan: ….Jesus did not die for the sins of the world…he was killed because of the sin of the world. It was the injustice of domination systems that killed him, injustice so routine that it is part of the normalcy of civilization.(1) Injustice exists. Challenge and suffering exists. Human beings torment others and themselves, routinely. And we will all find ourselves on both ends of the equation to varying extents. With whatever power we have, we figuratively crucify the vulnerable around us, and we crucify the vulnerable parts of ourselves. For this, Jesus says “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” This is an unbelievable grace. God encounters our failings, Jesus takes them into his experience, and responds with forgiveness. We do not deserve this grace, and yet, it is given. On the other end of things, we sometimes suffer undeservedly. Like the grieving, marginalized women seeking to simply anoint Jesus, we sometimes find ourselves in the tomb. We will find ourselves looking around and not seeing any light. What the resurrection communicates, is that we can know that there is something other than the deadness of human suffering. Why? Because God has made it so. God has declared that suffering does not have the final word; it will not define us or the world. This declaration has not made suffering good, it has not justified it, or condoned it. God is simply bigger, wider, more elemental and more real than than evil is. We might think of the common advice: “For every cloud there is a silver lining.” Depending on when and how we might be hearing this, it might sound helpful, or insufferable. What people usually mean is that we should look for the hidden blessing within whatever is happening to us, look for the the good thing that has happened because of the bad thing that has happened. And this is a somewhat useful approach. Optimism and curiosity are important virtues. But this is only one way of looking at it, depending as it does on events happening in a kind of linear way, or the good thing being discernible or recognizable to us. But that is not always the way things go. Sometimes our clouds cover the whole sky, for a long time. Sometimes we suffer in enormous, pervasive and life-changing ways. How would it help that those kinds of clouds have a silver lining? Well, where does a silver lining come from? When we look up at the clouds in the sky, what is it that makes them have a silverly lining, or a bright-colored border? It is the sun shining behind the clouds that make them look like they have a silver-y lining. And what is supposed to be hopeful about that? It means that the sun is still shining. No matter how big or dark the clouds, behind them the sun is still shining unabated. In fact, the clouds have zero ability to stop the sun from shining. They may certainly get in the way, they may certainly make our lives seem cold and rainy and dark. But no matter what the clouds do, the sun is still shining. When we appreciate the silver lining around a cloud, we are acknowledging that fact. It’s not that the clouds are becoming silver themselves. Nothing about the clouds actually changes. They are still heavy, or dark, or full of rain. It’s just when we see the silver lining, then we know something about what is beyond them, something higher, something bigger, something brighter. We are not gaining a good thing that makes up for a bad thing; we are gaining knowledge about what is at the heart of things, even if we can’t see it in that moment. And so it is with the easter story. Some powerful people took Jesus, someone just trying to make the world a better place for everyone, and they killed him. That will never not be an evil act. The resurrection cannot and does not change that. What we see in the resurrection is that such actions do not have the last word. The women found an empty tomb. Jesus did not erase what happened to him, wasn’t sitting there as if nothing at all had occurred. The tomb was empty. Evil or self-serving actions lead to nothing but emptiness. They are not generative, creative, connective or redemptive. Instead, Jesus would reappear to his followers outside of the tomb. Jesus leads us, and them, to see him elsewhere; in a garden, at a meal, in his wounds, on a beach cooking fish for breakfast. Whatever kind of crucifixion is on the table, that in which we participate or that which is foisted upon us, God says that is not all there is. What the resurrection does tell us, simply, is that God still lives. In spite of thoughtless and sinful actions, in spite of the clouds, God heart is still shining for us, towards us, inside of us, and through us—always—calling us towards accountability, freedom, and life. Where will we find him? Not in the tomb. Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he is risen. Amen. (1) Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus’s Final Days in Jerusalem, 161-163. Readings: Psalm 118:14-24 14 God is my strength and my song; God has become my salvation! 15 Raise shouts of joy and victory in the tents of the upright: The Lord’s right hand is doing mighty acts! 16 The Lord’s right hand is exalted; The Lord’s right hand is doing mighty acts! 17 No, I will not die—I will live to proclaim the deeds of the Lord; 18 Though God has challenged me often, I am not abandoned to Death.19 Open the gates of justice for me, let me come in and give thanks to you, O God. 20 This the gate of the Lord; the righteous shall enter through it. 21 Thank you for hearing me, for saving me. 22 It was the stone which the builders rejected that became the cornerstone; 23 this is God’s doing, and it is wonderful to see. 24 This the day the Lord has made—let us celebrate with joy! Luke 24:1-12 1 On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4 While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. 5 In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? 6 He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: 7 ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ” 8 Then they remembered his words. 9 When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. 10 It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles. 11 But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense. 12 Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened. Secrets of Heaven 5407 …In the next life 'life' generally means heaven, but specifically it means eternal happiness, while 'death' generally means hell, but specifically eternal unhappiness there, as is also evident from many places in the Word. The reason why heaven generally and eternal happiness specifically are called 'life' is that wisdom, which essentially is good, and intelligence, which essentially is truth, are present in heaven, and the life of such wisdom and intelligence is received from the Lord, the Source of the whole of life. But because the contrary of this exists in hell - that is to say, evil exists instead of good, and falsity instead of truth, so that spiritual life has been snuffed out there - what exists there, compared with that existing in heaven, is death. For spiritual death consists in evil and falsity, and it exists with humankind as the desire for what is evil and a consequent thinking what is false.
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Readings: Zechariah 9:9-12, Luke 19:28-44, Heaven & Hell 290 (see below)
See also on Youtube I’m going to start us off this morning with a question. What are we proclaiming today, on this Palm Sunday? Jesus is about to enter into Jerusalem for the last time. Soon he will sweep the temple clear of merchants, give many important teachings, sit down to the Last Supper with the disciples. He will be arrested and killed. For this moment though, there is celebration, joy and praise. There is hope. In our text today, Jesus rode down from the Mount of Olives towards Jerusalem, amidst a throng of chanting, adoring followers. This was a performative and prophetic act. They all knew exactly what he was doing. We read in our responsive reading for today, Psalm 118: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” The crowd changes this to “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.” Clearly, this journey that Jesus was making was to be interpreted as a royal entry. To these people, Jesus was the one they had been hoping for, he was their Messiah. Of course, this was immediately provocative to the powers-that-be. There was already a king of Jerusalem, there was already an emperor in Rome. Some of the pharisees sense the danger and tell Jesus to rein his followers in. Jesus answers: “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Here, he is likely referring the prophet Habakkuk: 9 “Woe to him who builds his house by unjust gain,.. 10 You have plotted the ruin of many peoples, shaming your own house and forfeiting your life. 11 The stones of the wall will cry out, and the beams of the woodwork will echo it. 12 “Woe to him who builds a city with bloodshed and establishes a town by injustice! (2:9-12) In that one reference, Jesus both captures the yearning of the people to be free, and the cruelty of those in power. We all yearn for a savior, someone who will make everything better. Someone who will be in our corner, who will look out for our interests, especially if those interests have been overlooked. And so we cry out! We cry out with the truth of our experience and our yearning and our disappointment and our hope. But we must understand, as much as God loves each of us, God also loves all people. Our advantage will never be achieved on the back on another, not in God’s kingdom. Therefore, as much as Jesus was stepping into the archetype of king, Jesus was not arriving as a conquerer of any kind. At first it might look like that. This kind of procession or parade was a common occurrence in the ancient world. They occurred when a person of importance was entering the city, like a king, or an important dignitary, or a conquering general. In that culture at that time, honor was the most important element of social currency. And the very best thing that that culture could do to honor someone was to throw them a triumphant procession, have them ride into the city on a magnificent war horse, surrounded by attendants(1). A multitude honoring someone, giving voice to their adoration, making evident their power and their prowess. While Jesus enacted this kind of procession outwardly, he at the same time subverted the underlying assumptions of the event in an act of prophetic irony. Instead of a war horse, he rode in on a donkey, a humble, lowly donkey. Luke does not quote Zechariah as two of the other gospels do but Luke’s version is undeniably influenced by this prophet, which we heard in our reading for today. “See your king comes to you,” says Zechariah, yes, righteous and victorious, but also lowly, humble. This section in the prophet has the Lord speaking to Israel about saving them from their surrounding enemies, about helping them succeed in battle. But while the Lord would work to help them be victorious, the point was not to perpetuate but remove violence. The one who redeems and saves Israel will also proclaim peace to the nations, not lord their victory over them. Israel’s God was not interested in power for power’s sake, nor honor for honor’s sake, but in thriving healthy relationships between people and nations. So, Jesus was to be a very different kind of king than humanity had ever known. Jesus would speak for the oppressed and the suffering, would champion the thriving of all people, not just the rich and powerful. Jesus would repudiate all the lessons that kings and power-brokers had heretofore taught….He would, as Zechariah says, proclaim peace to the nations. Now, as wonderful a vision as this might be, as confident as Jesus appears when he makes that retort about the stones to the pharisees, what does he do next? He weeps over the city of Jerusalem. “If you, even you, had only known of this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.” The one who would proclaim peace to the nations, the one who would submit to arrest, this was not the Messiah the people were expecting. By Friday, many who followed Jesus down from the Mount would be calling for his execution. Jesus wept, because often times we do resist that which will bring us peace. I think this is because we mistake what peace really is. First, sometimes we equate peace with the relief that comes with getting what we want, or when things turn out well for us. This kind of peace masquerades being about justice but ultimately it turns on power, because it depends on specific outcomes. This is the kind of peace that wanted Jesus to be the one to overthrow the Roman empire. The one that wanted Jesus to reign. We naturally equate our own desires with that which is right, and so when we get what we want, we feel peaceful and free of anxiety. But this is a superficial kind of peace, dependent on things going our way. In the common practice of parades for kings or generals, they would typically enact a ritual sacrifice in the temple at the end of the procession. But what will Jesus do as he arrives at the temple? He will clear it out. He will zero in on the self-serving ways in which we each wish to take advantage of power structures and he will sweep it all away. Most of the time, we really don’t want him to do this. Second, there is the misunderstanding that equates peace with rest. Peace is the not the same thing as Sabbath. Peace requires work, while Sabbath is the necessary relinquishment of work. True peace, rather than just a momentary absence of conflict, requires understanding, empathy, engagement and resilience. It requires surrender. It requires forgiveness. And as we heard from our Swedenborg reading, it requires an openness to God, because peace resides in God’s goodness. Later in the gospel, hanging on the cross, Jesus will say, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Peace will require us to relinquish ego, to relinquish advantage. When we realize what true kingdom peace will require of us, many of us will say: no thank you, that seems too hard. We don’t want that either. Philadelphia Christian activist, Shane Claiborne, puts it this way: “Peacemaking doesn’t mean passivity. It is the act of interrupting injustice without mirroring injustice, the act of disarming evil without destroying the evildoer, the act of finding a third way that is neither fight nor flight but the careful, arduous pursuit of reconciliation and justice. It is about a revolution of love that is big enough to set both the oppressed and the oppressors free.” The peace of God, the peace of the kingdom, is something much larger, much more transformative than the concept of satisfaction or restfulness. As Jesus shows us, peace will require lament, peace will require courage, peace will require sacrifice. Swedenborg writes: No one can be granted this peace unless they are led by the Lord and abide in the Lord, that is, unless they are in heaven where the Lord is the All in all. For heavenly peace enters in when the desires that spring from self-love and love of the world are removed; for those desires take peace away…(2) Palm Sunday, while triumphant and hopeful, is also very poignant, because of the ways that Jesus sees that we are still not getting it. Sometimes, we and God are like ships passing in the night. We have such hopes, such enthusiasm. Later on in the gospel, on the road to Emmaus, one follower describes his feelings to a person that he does not yet know is the risen Jesus: 20 The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; 21 but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. (Luke 24:20-21) We had hoped. We had hoped for redemption that looked like power, we had hoped for redemption that looked like rest. But now Jesus is dead. Jesus did not accomplish for us what we hoped that he would. Jesus didn’t give us what we wanted. Jesus knows this lament is coming, in each of our hearts. And he has already wept for it saying: “…you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.” God’s coming doesn’t always look like we want it to. Instead of a war horse, it may arrive on an awkward, lumpy donkey. Instead of a triumphant savior, it may arrive in what looks like a crucifixion, in what looks like death. As we enter into Holy Week, let us relinquish our expectation of God’s coming, so that we might be able to actually see the resurrection. Amen.
Zechariah 9:9-12 9 Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. 10 I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the warhorses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth. 11 As for you, because of the blood of my covenant with you, I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit. 12 Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you. Luke 19:28-44 28 After Jesus had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. 29 As he approached Bethphage and Bethany at the hill called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples, saying to them, 30 “Go to the village ahead of you, and as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 31 If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it.’ ” 32 Those who were sent ahead went and found it just as he had told them. 33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” 34 They replied, “The Lord needs it.” 35 They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. 36 As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road. 37 When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: 38 “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” 39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” 40 “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” 41 As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it 42 and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. 43 The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. 44 They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.” Heaven and Hell #290 I have talked with angels about peace as well, and have told them that on earth they call it peace when wars and conflicts between nations are over, or enmities and disagreements between individuals, and that they think inner peace is simply the peace of mind we have when anxieties are banished, or especially the relief and delight when things turn out well for us. The angels have responded, though, that this peace of mind, this relief and delight when anxieties are banished and things turn out well for us, may look like effects of peace; but they do not come from real peace except in people who are focused on heavenly good. This is because peace occurs only in that good. Peace actually flows in from the Lord into the very core of such individuals, and from that core comes down and spreads into their lower natures, causing peace of mind, relief of the spirit, and a consequent joy. For people engrossed in evil, though, there is no peace. There is an apparent calm, tranquillity, and pleasure when they get their way, but this is outward only, with no inward substance. Inside there is raging hostility, hatred, vengefulness, cruelty, and all kinds of evil cravings. Their spirits rush into these feelings the moment they see anyone who is not on their side, and it bursts forth whenever there is no fear [to restrain it]. This is why their delight is at home in insanity, while the delight of people involved in good is at home in wisdom. It is like the difference between hell and heaven. Readings: Deuteronomy 15:1-11, John 12:1-8, The Doctrine of Life #1 (see below)
See also on Youtube Photo by PIXAMD AMX on Unsplash Typical interpretations of our text for today revolve around the idea of choosing to focus on God rather than the world. It is often seen as a warning to not get so caught up in our earthly accomplishments, the “doing” part of us, to the extent that we forget to connect with spirit, with God. This is, of course, good advice. Without practices like Sabbath, like self-reflection, like worshipful reverence, we are vulnerable to burn-out, we are vulnerable to believing ourselves indispensable and all-powerful, we are vulnerable to various savior-complexes. We are vulnerable, like Judas, to seeking our own advantage, even if our actions are outwardly good. Thus, it is vital that we pause and remember the “why” of our efforts, to remember God (and God’s nature) as the ultimate source of our abilities, usefulness and motivation. The down-side of this interpretation, however, is that it can be used to justify apathy, a lack of compassion for suffering, and disconnection from the world. Taken to its extreme, one might argue: If the poor will always be with us, then clearly they are impervious to intervention. Or, if the poor will always be with us, we have all the time in the world to deal with that problem. Or, sure, its good to take care of the poor, but really spiritual folks will focus entirely on God; that’s more pure. Either way, the argument goes, attending to spirit is the higher, better, more useful and ideal thing to do. This is tempting because we all want to do the best, right and higher thing; who wouldn’t? But such an argument seems at odds with much of the bible itself, particularly the prophets and Jesus’ own words. So, another way of looking at this episode is through the lens of the history of Jesus’ own tradition. The story of the Children of Israel tells us that, over a thousand years before Jesus, they initially entered Egypt as welcome guests, but that over a couple of hundred years, they had been reduced to slavery within that nation. New pharaohs sought to take advantage of the Children of Israel, feared them, and so kept them oppressed. They cried out, and God saved them from slavery, and led them to their own land, where they could be free. God also gave them some commandments and some laws, to help them exist in community with each other, in such a way that no one had to experience hardship like in Egypt again. We see some examples of these laws in our Deuteronomy reading for today. For example, The forgiveness of debts every seven years prevented the run-away accumulation of wealth by some, and the spiraling poverty of others. Every seven years there was a reset of sorts, to keep the playing field more even, to prevent the consolidation of power and wealth, which always leads to the domination of some over others. There are lots of laws in Deuteronomy that sound strange to us now, but the general thrust was always to promote good-faith and steadfast relationships within the community of God’s people, in which no one found themselves outside of the circle of relationship, and all were lifted up and included. Over time though, Israel wished for a king, and God granted that wish. In establishing a monarchy, however, Israel became vulnerable to the concentration of power and wealth in a ruling class. One of the biggest temptations that human beings are vulnerable to is the creation of what the author Marcus Borg calls “domination systems.”(1) Over time, with a very few exceptions, the succession of kings in Israel and Judah leaned in hard on the domination and accumulation side of things. Life got harder and harder for the ordinary people. Prophets rose up to give voice to this disparity. We hear, for example, in the book of Amos: Thus says the Lord: For three transgressions of Israel and for four, I will not revoke punishment. Because they sell those who have done no wrong for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample the heads of the poor into the dust of the earth, and push the afflicted out of the way. (Amos 2:6-7) That which God had freed the children of Israel from: the domination system of slavery in Egypt, was being replicated within their own nation, in the many ways by which the poor were oppressed. Eventually, Israel and Judah fell under the control of new domination systems, first Assyria, then Babylon, then Persia, and then (after a few hundred years of precious self-rule), Rome. So, we now find ourselves back in Jesus’ time, with the Jews under the boot of the Roman Empire. The Roman Empire was a machine, guaranteeing peace throughout the empire via an iron fist. Local monarchs, such as Herod, worked within that system, mirrroring that system, in order to consolidate their own power. Religious elites also consolidated power and wealth, using the temple to enrich themselves to the detriment of the poor. We see Jesus acting against this system when he turns the money-changers out of the temple in Matthew. On Jesus’ level, in our reading for today, sitting as he was in the house with Lazarus and Mary and the disciples, the ordinary person was under layers and layers of domination systems. Through Jesus eyes, the history of his people was a story of domination and slavery perpetuating itself, and God calling for freedom and enacting liberation. Through Jesus eyes, the story of his people was the story of all people. Domination systems are the primary temptation of the human race. “You will always have the poor among you,” says Jesus…and why is that? Because that is what human beings do. We consolidate power and accumulate wealth to the detriment of others. We give in to hellish influence, which propels us toward greed and selfishness. So, Jesus came to us, to the human race, one in a long line of prophets preaching about social justice, about what we owe to each other, about what the kingdom looks like. In this moment from our text, the disciples and Mary hover in the space of seeing and understanding this truth in Jesus’ presence. All human beings will be drawn into domination structures; it is our primary sin. We will be separated from God and what God wants for us. Mary anoints Jesus in recognition of this, in recognition that Jesus will die, that —momentarily— domination systems will prevail, that the kingdom will be buried under all of our failings. This is an ongoing problem: there were thousands of years of domination systems before Jesus, and thousands still to come after. This is why it is written in Deuteronomy that we are to keep an open and generous heart towards those who are in need…because we keep forgetting. Sure, some of us forget because we are greedy and like to dominate, but we also forget because we are distracted, we forget because we want to remain pure, we forget because we are overwhelmed, we forget because we are afraid. One way to resist this forgetting is to be real about it, to mourn what is true about humanity, to pour out that cannister of perfume and anoint what is lost in our forgetting. Jesus died because we human beings cling so tightly to that which gives us power and that which gives us means. At the Easter season especially, we remember what happened to Jesus, we anoint him with our precious precious attention and love and acknowledge how he dies in each of our hearts when we give in to avarice and domination. We mourn the suffering that has happened and will still happen. “You will not always have me.” Yes, we will forget. And yet, in that anointing lies our guidepost. Swedenborg writes that the anointing of the Lord’s feet signifies a recognition of the Lord’s natural divinity.(2) “Natural Divinity.” Two words that seem like they are opposites but are in Jesus they are connected. In Jesus, God’s Divine nature became the opposite of remote, became embodied, became earthly, became one and present with the world, with our humanity. Our lives and God’s life united forever. “You will not always have me”…but we will always have a God who came to us. We will always have a God who resurrected love from the tombs of our domination systems. So we keep our eyes on what brought God here, what brought God close to us. Keep our eyes on what anchored Jesus to the world, what carried his soon-to-be-annointed feet from town to town. Keep our eyes on what it was about God that paid the ultimate sacrifice, this earthly-divine God that the prophets kept telling us was broken-hearted by the suffering of the poor. And so we daily anoint healing, service, sacrifice and love, we annoint these things as primary in our hearts. We mourn that these things are sometime destroyed and buried by the worst tendencies inside of us, the worst aspects of human society, but in that mourning we cling to what actually truly defines Jesus. As Mary wipes Jesus feet with her hair, so too will Jesus wipe the feet of the disciples after washing them, in the very next chapter. He tells them “You call me Teacher and Lord and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I , your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” (John 13:13-14) The most famous and beloved of Swedenborg’s quotes is this: All religion is of life, and the life of religion is to do good.” (4) Mary is calling us to really see Jesus, to see the life of Jesus and the good he sought to do, to mourn when that life and goodness is diminished, and to recognize that Jesus cannot be seen, worshipped or revered apart from that life. Instead of taking us away from the world, this text today takes us even deeper into what Jesus was striving for: a just world, a world in which all people are valued, a world in which domination is relinquished and resurrection embraced. Let us breathe deeply the fragrance of Mary’s annointing; it calls us to mourning but also to hope. Amen
Readings: Deuteronomy 15:1-11 1 At the end of every seven years you must cancel debts. 2 This is how it is to be done: Every creditor shall cancel any loan they have made to a fellow Israelite. They shall not require payment from anyone among their own people, because the LORD’s time for canceling debts has been proclaimed. 3 You may require payment from a foreigner, but you must cancel any debt your fellow Israelite owes you. 4 However, there need be no poor people among you, for in the land the LORD your God is giving you to possess as your inheritance, he will richly bless you, 5 if only you fully obey the LORD your God and are careful to follow all these commands I am giving you today. 6 For the LORD your God will bless you as he has promised, and you will lend to many nations but will borrow from none. You will rule over many nations but none will rule over you. 7 If anyone is poor among your fellow Israelites in any of the towns of the land the LORD your God is giving you, do not be hardhearted or tightfisted toward them. 8 Rather, be openhanded and freely lend them whatever they need. 9 Be careful not to harbor this wicked thought: “The seventh year, the year for canceling debts, is near,” so that you do not show ill will toward the needy among your fellow Israelites and give them nothing. They may then appeal to the LORD against you, and you will be found guilty of sin. 10 Give generously to them and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the LORD your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. 11 There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land. John 12:1-8 1 Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. 3 Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, 5 “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages. ” 6 He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. 7 “Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. 8 You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.” The Doctrine of Life #1 Religion Is All about How We Live, and the Religious Way to Live Is to Do Good. Everyone who has any religion knows and acknowledges that people who lead a good life are saved and people who lead an evil life are damned. That is, they know and acknowledge that if we lead a good life we think good things not only about God but also about our neighbor, which is not the case if we lead an evil life. What we love constitutes our life, and whatever we love we not only do freely but also think freely. So we say that life is doing good things because doing good things is inseparable from thinking good things. If this doing and this thinking are not working together in us, then they are not part of our life. |
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