Sermons from Lyndale
An Unsettling Force…
But then the question becomes how do we trust what we can’t see? How do we trust that the kin-dom of God is even possible? That ending poverty or racism is even possible? How do we find the fortitude to keep doing this work? We don’t get Jesus walking through our locked doors and showing us his wounds. What we get is the story of it. We get the poor and oppressed all around us showing us their wounds, from gunshots in black bodies made by police, to women bravely sharing #MeToo stories, to the estimated 145 million people still living in poverty or economic insecurity in the richest country in the world. We see his wounds in them, and in our own woundedness.
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You Don’t Know There’s Resurrection without Looking in the Tomb
The Lenten journey has felt searingly poignant, timely and descriptive of the pain and anger we are living amidst. The story of Empire’s death-dealing and violence, and the hatred and anger it calls forth in us is both old and new.
But ours is a tradition that teaches that the story does not end at the foot of the cross. Ours is a faith that proclaims that, while Empire may seek to crush, our God is a God who makes a way out of no way. Our God is a God who is always, constantly, persistently, subversively, blatantly making love and life and justice.
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Hosanna as Pain, Hope and Power
Where Pilate seeks to communicate the power and violence of Empire, Jesus’ is a procession of peasants seeking to proclaim the kin-dom of God. And unlike the sounds of Empire—clanking metal, creaking leather—the sounds of Jesus’ procession of those marginalized by Empire are those of swishing palm branches (a symbol of their rural, poor roots) and the crying of Hosanna, Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of God! Blessed is the coming kin-dom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!
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