Lectionary sermon for 29 April 2012 Easter 4 b (on the Good Shepherd John Ch 10: 11-18)

Some images stand the test of time, but alas, the image of the good shepherd is not one of them.
   Our 21st century knowledge of what shepherds do today must inevitably distort our picture of what a shepherd would need to do to be a good shepherd. These days, shepherds in the West are not typically over stressed. Typically there will be all sorts of aids available to make the job relatively straightforward. Most shepherds I have met have access to a farm bike, sheep dog assistants – and the wonderful inventions of barbed wire and modern steel gates to keep the sheep safe when unattended. If it rains the shepherd is usually protected by waterproof gear and can always leave the sheep to it and seek shelter for himself. In the unlikely event of a rogue dog worrying the sheep there is always a rifle somewhere handy. The shepherd often returns to the farmhouse for a comfortable night’s sleep and now-days is often paid above the minimum rate for unskilled workers.
   While Jesus is clear enough in likening himself to the good shepherd, religious art of the sort deemed appropriate for Sunday schools has not helped much with the image. At the Sunday school I attended all those years ago I remember a picture of a man clearly of European descent with a beard and a kind expression, wearing a shining white cloak carrying a dear little lamb in his arms while other lambs gambolled at his feet. From what I have since learned, this image could not be more misleading.
   For those first Century listeners, the image Jesus uses would have had far more impact. Not for the shepherd in those days to have the luxury of wire fences or steel hinged gates. Sheep have notoriously poor vision which is why of course they simply follow the sheep ahead of them. Without the advantage of sheep dogs the shepherd would need to be so familiar to the sheep that they would follow where he led, otherwise they would most certainly starve for the grass was sparse.
   The Judean central plateau stretches from Hebron to Bethel – something like 35 miles long and in most places about 15 miles across. This area was not lush grass – more like stubble on the low hills and without a shepherd keeping a constant watch the sheep would wander far and wide with disastrous consequences.
   While there were no farm fences, if you walked across this area, every so often you might come across a sheep fold built for communal use, a roughly circular stone wall with a gap to let in the sheep for the night. To stop the sheep wandering out, the shepherd would simply lie across the gap – becoming the gate. If the shepherd was any good the sheep would know his voice, which would be very handy if more than one shepherd had two or more flocks in the enclosure. In the morning, the shepherd would call and those sheep who knew his voice would respond and follow him back to the hills where the pastures lay. But although the shepherd would need to be caring with his own animals – gentle he most certainly was not. There were animals prepared to attack the sheep including wild dogs, hyenas, wolves, and in Jesus day, even the occasional lion. There were also those prepared to use force to steal sheep. Food could be scarce. Perhaps rather than thinking of those saccharine sweet pictures of shepherds deemed suitable for the Sunday school, we should instead be thinking rather of the shepherd boy David, with his accuracy with a sling sufficient to bring down the giant Goliath, and who would presumably have had his skills honed firing stones to drive off the wild animals.
   Shepherds had a constant fascination for the Jews and although most were cordially despised (more than one modern commentator likening them to used car salesmen or thieving gypsies) yet the notion of the shepherd was a constant theme particularly in the Old Testament. God himself was sometimes pictured as a shepherd – from where for example we find the Psalm 23 “the Lord is my shepherd” or Psalm 95 where we see: “He is our God and we are the people of his pasture”. In the New Testament we encounter the word Pastor – which in Latin means shepherd.(see for example Ephesians 4:11)
  The Jews saw particular value in the shepherd who would seek out the lost sheep. They have a legend which claims that when Moses was a young man tending his father- in –law’s flock, a young kid suddenly took off from the other animals in the flock. It ran down a ravine where it found a natural spring where it began to drink. Moses followed it and when he came across the kid drinking he is supposed to have said: “I didn’t realise you ran away because you are thirsty. Now you must be weary”. He lifted the kid and took it back to the other animals on his shoulder. Then says the story: “God said ‘because you have shown pity in leading back one of a flock belonging to a man, you shall lead my flock Israel’ “ 
   Where the good shepherd bit comes, is not so much in the loving carrying of the defenceless kid or lamb, but rather in the reaction to genuine danger. The good shepherd then had to be prepared to put his life on the line to protect his sheep. Literally when danger came there would presumably be the choice either to beat a strategic retreat or to stay to fight off those who would steal his sheep. Whether they be robbers or wild animals, the real question would be whether the shepherd would stand his ground. Not all shepherds would be good in the sense that they would put their lives on the line. From the fact that shepherds were considered amongst the lowest class in Jesus day also suggests that bad shepherds rather than good shepherd were probably the norm.
   That Jesus would be numbered amongst the good in terms of personal bravery would certainly follow from the gospel accounts. One who was prepared to speak up against powerful authority figures, one who cleared the Temple, one who faced an angry crowd in Judea who made to stone Jesus – then a short time later one who returned to that same unfriendly Judea, does not suggest a timid leader. That Jesus set his face to Jerusalem knowing that death was likely to be his lot suggests one prepared to sacrifice his own life rather than his principles. Jesus was also one prepared to be seen caring about the untouchables in his society, the lepers, the tax-collector, the prostitute, the Samaritan woman, and in the expression of his compassion, that he understood healing was more than healing the body is clear from a number of his interactions.
   So much for the straightforward part of Jesus’ intended image. What is less straightforward is when we transfer the image to the present. Very clearly Jesus is no longer physically present, no matter where you are on the theological spectrum when it comes to the resurrection. When people are in danger, Jesus does not appear from the nearest phone box as a transformed Clark Kent or come swooping down on an elastic thread like Spider Man. So if he is really a protective shepherd we might well ask what Jesus means for us today when he is recorded as claiming to be the good shepherd for those who follow.
   We can get something of a clue from what happened in the aftermath of the crucifixion. Last week it was Thomas, disappointed and extremely doubtful about stories of the resurrection. Yet it was that same Thomas who found his faith sufficiently strengthened that he went off in his turn to be a shepherd to the people in South India. Paul came later to his faith, initially one who was suspicious of Christianity and prepared to persecute Christians. By his own account, something happened to Paul, transforming him into someone prepared to shepherd the young Church. Through his teachings, his actions and his letters, many had their faith strengthened.

There is something contagious in courage in the face of adversity and a courageous person with a message of compassion may also be seen as an expression of Christ. I am not a Catholic, yet in reading the stories of those who led the way I acknowledge I see many marks of the good shepherd in the recorded lives of many now called saints. Whether or not others will find in us some of the properties of a good shepherd is not a straightforward matter.
   Not all shepherds are good shepherds. In the old days the shepherd was the last line of defence and the temptation for the bad shepherds was simply to avoid the problem by walking or even running away. In reality there is good and bad in most of us and if Peter, generally acknowledged to be the leader of the disciples, could deny his Lord at a crucial time, I guess for those of us who do not share his responsibilities, the temptation is not to be seen as the one who confronts the danger on behalf of others.
   Although the dangers have changed the need for the good shepherds are as real as ever. In many cases the danger comes from the wolves who try to blend in with the flock. The money lenders who prefer to be seen as providing essential social services, the politicians who would rather sacrifice their constituents than face genuine problems of injustice found in unpopular causes. There are for example church leaders who willingly set up committees to deal with immediate issues rather than take the obvious action which might require inconvenience. There are also those who see the Church as a institution separate from the world, and as shown by the issues they embrace they have no genuine interest in the realities of the dangers faced outside the safety of the Church.
   Dressing like a shepherd, accepting the appropriate title of pastor, priest or even bishop complete with the bishop’s crook certainly symbolises the intention to be a good shepherd, but in reality we should acknowledge that many dangers to the vulnerable are not faced by all of those so appointed.
   Think of the scandals through the centuries not faced. Those shepherds who did nothing about slavery or its modern equivalent sex slavery, the deliberately unnoticed Pacific victims of the bomb tests, those who not only turn a blind eye to the absolute scandal of the arms trade but condone investment in this area and, let’s admit it, those who for centuries who have been presiding over a building of Church wealth while the refugees are kept out of sight and out of mind in horrendous conditions. The current dangers to the environment, the widening gap between the rich and the poor and the structures set in place to ensure the advantages of the wealthy suggest there is still much for the shepherd to do.
  Yes, there have been outstanding good shepherds who have turned to face the dangers. Think of Luther nailing his list of Church sins on a cathedral door, those who bravely took on slavery, and those who today are doing the same. . There are those who continue to look about them to see the dangers. Those who sacrifice a comfortable life in suburbia to work in the refugee camps, those who risk unpopularity or worse to expose corruption and those who speak out as modern day prophets should be identified and celebrated as good shepherds.
   Something not often understood by townies, is that sheep are not unintelligent, although they most assuredly are short-sighted and vulnerable. The sheep in danger have the wit to recognise the voice of their shepherd because their shepherd has stayed with them and cared. With Jesus leaving the continuing tasks of the kingdom to those like us, the intriguing question will be to discover if those currently in danger will recognise in us those who deserve the title of good shepherds.

Lectionary Sermon for 22 April 2012, Easter 3 Year B on Luke 24: 36 – 48

Yes, I suppose the perceptive among you have noted that today’s lectionary gospel reading is from Luke – and this year’s Gospel is supposed to be Mark. Last year the focus was Matthew in year A, this year it is Mark, and next year, year C, is supposed to be when we get round to focus on Luke.
   So why Luke today?   In case you were wondering, this is not a mistake. The lectionary organisers have not made the blunder and nor does it mean I am taking the easy way out and finding an old sermon from a previous year. In fact there are two reasons why it cannot be Mark this morning. The few Sundays after Easter are supposed to have readings on what happened after the resurrection and because the original version of Mark only had eight verses dealing with this, there is no way the eight verses would be spun out over several Sundays.   

   The other worry with Mark is that for whatever reason he decided not to say anything about Jesus post resurrection appearances – and in fact the Gospel he wrote originally finished at verse 8 instead with the women fleeing in panic and confusion from the empty tomb. ( In my NRSV version of the Bible it calls this “the shorter ending” ).  Leaving this ending as the only evidence about the resurrection, recording the evidence in effect as a large question mark was not at all satisfying for the early Church leaders who solved the problem on Mark’s behalf by adding a few more verses about a clearer form of evidence. That this addition happened sometime in the second century does at least bring Mark somewhat more in line with the other gospels even if it does raise serious questions about the status of apparent eye witness reporting.
    We can only speculate why Mark appeared so reluctant to discuss details of what happened after the resurrection. Perhaps he didn’t quite believe the reports he must have heard, because remember by tradition he was writing his gospel in Rome and it is popularly thought with the help of Peter.
    This brings us to Luke and his post resurrection account. While Luke may well have believed what he recorded, he also is at pains to point out the confusion of the disciples. In some ways this confusion is all the more puzzling when we remember that according to the other Gospel accounts there had already been a number of experiences of the disciples meeting with the resurrected Jesus. Remember a resurrected Jesus calling the disciples in from the boat to share a cooked fish breakfast. Remember Thomas being invited to put his hands in the wounds. Perhaps then the continued retelling of the different versions of the encounters each one starting with surprise and apparent disbelief is at least part metaphor. The disciples’ puzzlement is also even of help to remind us that there will always be questions and uncertainties, even for those closest to Jesus.
   Luke is much less focussed on theology than for example is the case in the gospel of John. In an age when our Church services, originally grounded in the gritty realities of the day, have gradually absorbed layer upon layer of religious language and custom, it is good that Luke frequently reminds us that Jesus was discovered in the ordinary activities and day to day encounters with real people doing real things. Think for example, of how Jesus uses the humble meal as a means of making genuine contact. In Luke 14 7-11 he even suggests that the right attitude to approach a meal is with humility rather than seeking to be honoured in the meal. The Last Supper may well be the most famous of the meal encounters but there were so many others that Jesus was accused of eating with sinners. Remember the tax collector seen up the tree called down to share a meal with Jesus, the meal shared with a prostitute, the feeding of the crowd – and then there were the parables Jesus told like those called to the wedding feast, the prodigal son welcomed home with the feast of the fatted calf, the Good Samaritan who rendered aid…so many meals reported that we cannot say that they were incidental to Jesus message. Food was even seen as part of healing as for example with the 12 year old Jairus who Jesus restores to life, then immediately insists she be given food (Luke 8.55). Indeed the story of the two disciples encountering Jesus on the road to Emmaus goes further and makes it plain that as long as the disciples were simply talking with Jesus they did not really recognise him – but when they invited him to a meal, it was at table they understood they were meeting the Christ.
   This particular meeting of the disciples with Jesus in today’s reading has two features which have relevance for us today.
   The first is that the joy of meeting Jesus is sometimes discovered in the context of shared food. In a typical Sunday service the formal part of the service can easily take a form which precludes a genuine sharing and meeting with one another. Even the perfunctory hand shake at the door, the passing comments about the weather or even the complaints about the length of the sermon don’t exactly assist mutual communication. It is strange that we come inspired by one whose practical ministry saw the shared meal as central to his means of sharing and accepting with others, yet we see the cup of tea after the service almost as an incidental extra.
   The ministry of hospitality has a good fit with our claim that caring about our neighbours is a central part of Christ’s ministry.
   Let me illustrate with the story of a woman who died recently for whom the title of saint would seem deserved by those who knew her. Her name was Kay Wicks and she attended a small Church as a deacon in a small country town called Tuakau. Kay might seem at first sight to be anything but significant. She was not a prominent leader or great speaker. She was not a sophisticated theologian. On the other hand she had a great affection and concern for those who were facing difficulties in life. She had adopted a Down’s syndrome girl, linked a number of unwed mothers with the Plunket baby care organisation, helped organise Sunday school work and ran a music and dance programme for preschoolers. She was a life-line counsellor and a great organiser of church hospitality. At her funeral a few weeks ago we heard about her hospitality. For example on Christmas day her family including grand children would turn up for the meal – but more than that. There were always some extra chairs at the table in case anyone she met at the Christmas morning Church service didn’t have anywhere to go for lunch – and there would be extra presents under the tree for the visitors. Shortly before she died she was visited at the hospice by a young man who had taken the trouble to come from the other end of the country – and why? – because when he had been a troubled young delinquent she had helped him turn his life around. It would have been no surprise to anyone who knew her that the large hall was absolutely packed for her funeral.
   In the same way the two disciples on the Road to Emmaus and today’s story of the disciples about to eat when they were gathered together, unexpectedly encountered Christ at table, I want to suggest that something of Jesus was in those encounters with Kay.
  But to return to Luke’s closing story of the encounter of Jesus with his disciples. The disciples found joy in the encounter but in part it was a joy rising from confusion. I  can relate to the sort of disciples who, despite having met Jesus, and having lived with him and seen his actions in practice might still be confused about what such encounters might mean. This is of comfort because it means there might still be hope for us if we too find ourselves bewildered by what we encounter.
  There is mystery in the story, perhaps even that deeper magic present at the beginning of time, but Luke reports Jesus as being insistent that the encounter with him is more with the ordinary, the flesh and blood, rather than the mystery of the Spirit. For me this is a metaphor to remind us that ultimately Jesus will be encountered at the deepest level not in the high blown mystical encounters even those engineered by the finest of liturgists but in the midst of real life.  Because real life is not neatly packaged in convenient sections it is almost expected that the disciples, despite having met Jesus, lived with him and seen his actions in practice might still be left with questions about what such encounters might mean.
  The fact that there are so many Christian denominations (38,000 at one Wikipedia count) and within those, so many shades of interpretation about the meaning of resurrection, also means that we are unlikely to find statements about resurrection supported by an overwhelming majority. Where however we might find agreement, is to suggest that a tomb is no place to confine the spirit of Jesus.
  There is much of metaphor in the New Testament accounts of resurrection and calls to mission. Yet the metaphor rarely directs us to focus on where custom suggests it should be focussed. Like it or not, Jesus is not recorded as focussing on what we might for want of a better term call Church activity.
  Jesus calls his disciples at this last encounter to see that their mission should start with Jerusalem which is of course the very city which had sent him to his death. This is a helpful reminder not just to the disciples in Jesus day – but even for us today. Certainly Jerusalem remains a divided and far from peaceful city.
   There the Jews, the Christians and the Muslims all make their claim and there have been centuries of unrest to bear testament to the fact that Christ’s message of peace and forgiveness is as much needed today as it was almost 2000 years ago. But it is also in such places where peace is required that our mission in his name is needed. We might well get our inspiration for action in the liturgy and sermons of our Church service but ultimately it is in the situations of urgent need we are called to feed the hungry, to bring justice to the persecuted, to show hospitality to the lonely – and in short – to live the gospel we claim we find in the place we call church.
   And more than that, we have Jesus example and teaching to remind us that others will encounter him when those who seek to follow his words, minister in practical flesh and blood situations.
   So the question for each one of us….. In our encounters, will others experience the warmth and welcome of the Love of God? In our encounters, will others find the same attention to the place of hospitality and acceptance that Jesus demonstrated? In our encounters, will others get that tantalising and puzzling glimpse of the same Spirit that appeared to be so hard to kill – and yet which always seems a little beyond understanding even by his closest disciples?
 Resurrection means life and remember the tomb is a most inappropriate place to contain the spirit of life.
     Christ is risen
                 He is risen indeed!

The Road to Emmaus

The Road to Emmaus
A Parable about Jesus
John Dominic Crossan, who to me is one the more interesting modern scholars of the Bible, once pointed out that as well as the parables we remember that Jesus told, there are also parables about Jesus.

One of his examples is a story from Luke’s Gospel, Luke 24:13-35, about this strange meeting along the Road to Emmaus. Dom Crossan says that: regardless of whether we believe the story as fact or not, there is a way of discovering meaning in the story which makes it a parable.

Remember the scene as Luke tells it. Two people (not well known disciples – but disciples nevertheless) are walking to Emmaus and discussing the recent crucifixion of Jesus. A stranger approaches them and joins in their conversation. The stranger interprets Scripture to them as they walk, explaining to them that they should have expected Jesus to be killed, as were the prophets in the Scriptures. When they come to their house the stranger acts as if he is going to continue on, but they ask him in and once inside they offer some food. The stranger breaks the bread and in this action they recognize him as Jesus… but to add to their puzzle he disappears.

Crossan suggests we might see the parable as follows. In our context today, meeting the stranger in the unexpected setting means that you don’t know when you will be visited by Jesus. There is of course even today a sense in which Jesus is with you when you study the Scripture. It allows you to gather knowledge, but in practice this is insufficient for you to recognize Jesus. Reading Scripture is only preparatory and perhaps the equivalent of encountering a stranger on the road. It is only when you invite the stranger into your home and share food, which presumably suggests the Eucharist, that you will recognize him.

So there is much to suggest that the story is not just intended as history. The experience of the two persons on the road to Emmaus is always going to be more than the story of an event. By implication there are two things which might also be part of our experience. By all means let us respect the knowledge we can gain from Scripture, but let us remember that perhaps it is only when we go that one step further and do the equivalent of inviting the stranger in to share God’s food with us that we are going to have a chance of recognizing something more in the encounter with the stranger, the real meeting which in effect is the one with Jesus.
The offering of food – or if you like – the act of friendly kindness to the stranger is much more than an after-thought to the story. We would also have to say it is not a characteristic of our age. One of the unfortunate consequences of city living is that we build a deliberate shield around ourselves. It is possible to get through an entire day walking, eating and drinking in cafes, walking in the same direction along the pavement as others, sharing lifts, even park benches without even a single meaningful conversation. Perhaps you, like me, have seen neighborhoods where there is a culture of distrusting the stranger. Neighborhoods where the list of telephone numbers for legal assistance for taking legal action against all manner of neighbors and neighborhood agencies far exceeds the list of helping agencies. Neighborhoods where neighbors don’t know one another by name, where they do not help one another, where there are no street parties, where the elderly remain lonely. I have even encountered Churches that will not offer communion to strangers unless they are already members of the appropriate denomination.

There is a sense in which the neighborhood ethos depends on deliberate choices. I was warned that the shift to my current neighborhood was unlikely to be a good experience. I was assured by someone who had had one such bad experience that I was likely to encounter snobbish people who insisted on keeping to themselves. Instead the experience has been positive in the extreme. The neighbors in this street have a sheet of telephone numbers of everyone in the street. The residents have a regular street party and seem to know one another by name. They help look after one another’s properties. My next door neighbor on one side trims my hedge, the one on the other side gives us fish and venison. Other neighbors have fixed my computer. I have noticed that when one neighbor is away another neighbor takes his dog for a regular walk. Oh, and one other thing. Did I remember to say that these friendly neighbors are not Church folk. Yet on reflection such a neighborhood would not exist unless someone first had chosen to visit the neighbors to invite them the share phone numbers, someone had to agree to host the street party, and someone had to welcome the newcomer to the street.

None of these actions exactly require rocket science. Yet as a consequence of these simple actions the benefits of comfort, security and sense of belonging are immense. Theologically dare I suggest this might even be a glimpse of Christ.
It is intriguing that although many Churches stage their own Emmaus walk where the Bible story of the Road to Emmaus forms the central theme for the weekend, not all who have had the experience necessarily develop a culture in which the stranger is truly welcome.
But to return to this story of the encounter with Jesus. We can certainly sympathize with Cleopas and the other unnamed disciple. They were clearly missing the one who they had been inspired to follow, yet did you notice that Jesus was in no hurry to make himself known? Some commentators have suggested that because they were walking towards the sunset with the sun in their eyes they found it hard to recognise Jesus, but Jesus in his responses to them suggests that their lack of recognition might have had a more fundamental reason. Their description of Jesus as one who would rescue Israel, and one who had been prevented from so doing by those who crucified him suggested that they had misunderstood both the nature of Jesus and the significance of his death. Indeed as they talked more with Jesus it became very apparent they did not understand exactly who they had been attempting to follow.

Jesus in the story of the Road to Emmaus, models an intriguing way to conduct a conversation about the essentials of religion. Had he simply said – I am Jesus and I am back, the two disciples would have been no further ahead in their understanding. In the same way a street evangelist telling me about Jesus and the meaning of salvation through his death needs first to check that we understand the same things by the words being used before I am ready to understand.

Many statements and writings about Jesus illustrate misunderstanding in the sense that Jesus is portrayed as one worth studying and one who represents a form of action on our behalf that we are intended to stand back and admire. On the other hand Jesus himself treats his audience as those expected to live his teaching. Certainly such a shift in thinking cannot be hurried. After all Jesus disciples were with him for months and even years before they understood this fundamental distinction and there is no indication he insisted on instant acceptance.

The very last event in the story may also be significant as part of a parable teaching. Remember that just when the two disciples had worked out who the stranger was, he disappeared. Perhaps this might serve as a reminder that we should never expect to have the experience of Jesus in a form where all is absolutely clear.

Lectionary Sermon for Easter 2, Year B, 15 April 2012 on John 20: 19 – 31

Thomas the Who
Thomas has an incredible amount of bad press over the years and I would go so far to suggest, an undeserved bad press. The expression “a doubting Thomas” has become almost a term of derision. Yet even the little we know about someone who is only mentioned three times in the gospels – and then only by the writer of the Gospel of John, should make us pause before leaping to judgment and saying Thomas should be remembered for being Thomas the doubter.                                                                                  
The first time we hear his name it is in the form of a risk taker. Remember the scene. You will find it in John Chapter 11. Jesus had previously had a hard time in Judea – the crowd had taken up stones to deal to him, so when he suggested going back to Judea to where Lazarus had been reported as having died, it is hardly surprising the disciples tried to talk him out of it. They may have even been secretly worried that next time in Judea, if they were seen with Jesus they too might be at risk. When Thomas has his say, there is no sign of a timid doubter. “Let us go with Jesus to Judea and be prepared to die with him”. Well, if it is true that the greatest love one can show is to lay down one’s life for a friend, then it really is as a risk-taking friend not a doubter that Thomas said “we’ll support you in going back to Judea”.                                                                                                                                      
By the time John started to write his gospel you need to understand that Thomas had already written his gospel even if it didn’t make the final cut of New Testament books. The Gospel of Thomas was apparently earlier than the four gospels in the New Testament and according to the scholars we can see evidence that Mark borrowed some of Thomas’s writings and added a bit to his record of what Thomas records Jesus saying. Thomas also picked up on some things from Jesus that were quite different from those selected by John. Some of the scholars even suggest that John appeared to stress Thomas’s deficiencies to imply that John’s was the more reliable gospel. Perhaps this is why John notes that Thomas wasn’t there when Jesus showed himself to the other disciples, leaving the impression that he wasn’t in the in-group.                                                                               
Pointing out Thomas expressed doubt when listening to their testimony when the disciples tell Thomas Jesus has come back to life might suggest a lack of faith, yet I suspect many would find this perfectly reasonable. Dead people are not expected to come back to life and we should remember Thomas only has the other disciples’ word that it has happened. I for one can understand his scepticism. If I had watched someone die then perhaps a day later gone off to a funeral home to pay my respects I frankly admit I would be most unlikely to accept someone’s word for it that the body was no longer at the home because they had come back to life. That was after all in effect what Thomas was told by the others.                      
But the story of Thomas does not end with his doubts. John records him as meeting Jesus a few days later with the words “My Lord and my God”, but we do Thomas a disservice if we use even this as a measure of his faith. In reality it is not so much what a person says, but what they are in thoughts and actions that are their faith.  Remember that this same Thomas was now sufficiently confident in his faith to go on to start the Church in South India where he was eventually martyred.                                                  
Since those who tell us of religious ideas are in effect offering us life changing choices and since there are many such offers in a modern world it is sensible to at least ask if the belief is likely to be worth following before making our own risky choice. Given that we are never able to see what the representative of faith is actually thinking we can at least make a reasonable judgement of their claims based on their actions, or if you like the fruits of their belief, and use this as a guide.                                                                                                            
What would convince you? I think for example of the man popularly known as the Prof, Lord Cherwell, who was at one time Professor of Physics at Oxford and during World War two a scientific advisor for Winston Churchill. One problem Churchill gave the Prof was to see if he could come up with an answer for fighter planes spinning into the ground and crashing. The tight turns of the dog fights often resulted in these out of control spins.
Well the Prof put his analytic mind to the problem. First of all he addressed the physics. He worked out exactly what was happening from the theory of aerodynamics – then devised exactly what the pilot might do once the spiral had started. The catch was that although it seemed to work in theory, to show that the solution would work for a real spin was extremely risky. If he were wrong the pilot would die.                                                                 
Lord Cherwell had a remarkable solution. He took flying lessons, then as soon as he was able, he took the plane up to a height, put it into a spinning dive, then to get out of the spin applied his theoretical solution – it worked. Then just to be certain he went up again, this time putting it into an anti-clockwise spin, to show that the solution was just as effective the other way. Because he trusted sufficiently in his solution and could show it worked, pilots were convinced and many lives were no doubt saved as a consequence.                          
The focus on actions can also tell us when the truth is less plausible.
Reflect for a moment on the hugely popular Bible thumping Trinity Broadcasting network based in California. The TBN message that God rewards with prosperity those who are prepared to give to His work – ie sending money to TBN has indeed produced ostentatious rewards for the Network founders and top executives on a scale only matched by the life styles of top Hollywood stars and the glittering in your face splendour of Las Vegas. When however the money all seems directed at the organisers with their private jets and luxury cars we should, and indeed must, ask the question about how this fits with Jesus’ message of humility, of servant-hood and showing love to the least of our brethren.                              
Contemporary histories suggest that Thomas was sufficiently confident in his experience that he went from there to do great things. He is recorded as taking his message to Persia, then on to South India where tradition says he started the Church of South India where he was finally martyred.                                                                                                                          
Harry Williams in his book The True Wilderness is quoted as saying: “I resolved that I would not preach about any aspect of Christian belief unless it had become part of my own lifeblood. For I realised that the Christian truth I tried to proclaim would speak to those who listened only to the degree to which it was an expression of my own identity.”                
This to me speaks of the same integrity that Thomas lived. Not for Thomas a credulous acceptance of others’ claims without first checking the claims out for himself. But more importantly, not for him either the life of vacuous words once he was sufficiently convinced. Thomas showed that beliefs are to be lived.                                                                
The early Christians appear to have understood the realities of how faith is meant to impact on life. They had a special word for it. They called it “pistis”. Pistis is not properly translated as meaning faith. Rather it is more like: trusting, abandoning or even venturing. To have Pistis in Christ certainly didn’t merely mean that Christ was there in some mysterious way. Rather it meant the slender hope that the reality Jesus represented might also have value and truth for the ones who trusted him enough to follow.                     
For Christians, the arguments about whether or not we might think God exists have little meaning away from what Jesus showed this God to mean. Because these days our first hand experience of witness comes via other people it is worth remembering that from the days of the early Church obtaining inspiration is not only based on what can be learned from studying Christ, but also via those in each generation who have been prepared to follow Jesus. And yes, what gives the inspiration is the attraction of lives lived with integrity.                                                                                                                                               
No doubt the disciples each took a different path to their eventual pistis. And in an age where there is much of value in different forms of Christianity as well as much to generate caution, it might even be that we have need of the Thomases of our day to insist that we not be led astray by transparent fraud as well as needing those prepared to trust and follow without question or evidence. Yet no matter the path, and no matter the initial degree of doubt, the real test of lives lived in the spirit is whether or not we are truthful both to ourselves and others.                                                                                                                          
It is intriguing that although in the debates about which books should be included in the Bible, the Bishop of Lyon, Irenaeus had dismissed the gospel of Thomas as an “abyss of madness and blasphemy against Christ”, yet when Thomas’s long lost book finally resurfaced amongst the caves at Nag Hammadi, the modern bible scholar Elaine Pagels, far from finding madness and blasphemy found Thomas recording sayings of Jesus in a way which she found resonating with her belief. For example from the gospel of Thomas:
. “Jesus said: If you bring forth what is within you, what you will bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

Pagels explained that for her: “..the strength of this saying is that it does not tell us what to believe but challenges us to discover what lies hidden within ourselves; and, with a shock of recognition, I realized that this perspective seemed to me to be self-evidently true.”

Thomas we read is eventually persuaded by the evidence of his eyes, yet we must remember that for Thomas this was a persuasion not so much to a creed as to an awakened life. Just as Thomas was able by his encounter to discover a strength within to witness and lead in an eventual journey of adventure, our individual doubts need not stop us from the journey.

It is true that there is a sophisticated form of cynicism that claims that Christianity is merely a subjective theory to fill psychological needs. What ultimately confounds that theory is encountering the transformed lives. No mere theory can ultimately stand against an individual prepared to work wholeheartedly for the transformation of the world. Thomas who doubted grew into someone who could make a difference.                                    
If that can happen for doubting Thomas, perhaps it might happen for you or me.

A Lectionary Sermon for Easter Sunday 8 April 2012, based on John 20 1-18

One of the marks of the mature Christian is when they get to the point where they start to trust their own thinking and experience. Easter provides a good test of this mark of growth.
  In some ways it has never really been a question of how believable or acceptable the resurrection story is to a genuine Christian, it is more a question of why Church members are not uniformly transformed by their knowledge of the resurrection. If we look at typical behaviour of Christians today, we should at least acknowledge that some show by their actions they are uncertain as to what it all means. Celebrating in joyful worship we may well be on Easter Sunday – yet for many of us, the very next day it is back to normality and on to the Easter sales.
  Although most Christians are happy to respond to the Easter Greeting – “Christ is risen” with “He is risen indeed”, all is by no means clear.
  Today I wish to face what some critics say as squarely and as honestly as possible. You should be assured at the outset that although I am aware of these problems I personally believe there is very important truth in the resurrection that resonates with my experience and one I believe gives a good basis for a life based on faith. Yet I also believe that if a faith is worth having it should be sufficiently robust to survive honest doubts.
It is fine to start simply with the gospel accounts, reading each one separately and using the Church three year cycle of the lectionary almost as an excuse to avoid seeing how the accounts stack up against one another. But as our faith matures, there is also a case for comparing the accounts and then allowing ourselves become open to relevant knowledge from other sources.
  So to work. We start with an observation from Justice Haim Cohn, a prominent contemporary Jewish scholar who draws our attention to some obvious problems in accepting the veracity of the account of Jesus’ evening trial in the house of the High Priest. Justice Cohn claims that the traditional story of Jesus’ trial is inconsistent with custom. First according to Jewish law and custom, the Sanhedrin were not allowed to exercise jurisdiction in the High Priest’s house or for that matter anywhere outside the Courthouse and Temple precinct. No session of the criminal court was permissible after nightfall. Passover or Pesach would not have provided the setting since no criminal trial was permissible on a feast day or the eve of a feast day. In view of the formalistic and rigorous attitude to the law, for which the Pharisees were well known, a conviction must be proceeded by two truthful and reliable witnesses and in fact the charge of blasphemy was inapplicable since it was closely defined as pronouncing the ineffable name of God, the tetragrammaton which under Jewish law might only be pronounced once a year on the Day of Atonement – and then only by the High Priest in the Kodesh Kodashim, the innermost sanctuary of the Temple.
  Next we look more closely at how the gospel accounts stack up against each other. The gospel accounts are fine if read separately – but downright confusing if they are assembled together. The difficulties are now well known and are standard teaching in many theological training institutions. Because by tradition and the three year church lectionary cycle the stories are not usually read on the same day in Church, accordingly the contradictions are less well known by typical church members apart from the more serious Bible scholars among them. For example there are different reportedly eye witness accounts with different last words on the cross. There are different versions of what was encountered at the empty tomb and who the witnesses met there. Right from the outset the gospel writers seem to have struggled to come up with a consistent and clear account of the empty tomb.
  Let’s be honest. Given the requirements of news reporters today, the gospels lacked the precision and accuracy now expected of national news reporters and appear closer today with what we might more commonly associate with the tabloids. Matthew, for example has many graves opening and dead people walking around. Matthew 27 verses 52 and 53 says “There was an earthquake, the rocks split and the graves opened, and many of God’s people rose from sleep , and coming out of their graves after his resurrection, they entered the Holy City where many saw them”. Many resurrected? Really? Strangely the other gospel writers appeared to have missed this earth shaking scene altogether and contemporary historians seem oblivious to the extraordinary newsworthy event. Mark as the writer most contemporary with the events, far from supporting Matthew’s account, attempted to close off his account before the resurrection evidence was even mentioned. The last twelve verses of Mark are widely believed by scholars to have been added much later by other authors to bring Mark’s gospel into line with the resurrection details mentioned in the other gospels. The earliest complete manuscripts of Mark’s gospel were missing these verses and the style of writing including letter formation suggests that the missing verses were added at least two hundred years after the original gospel was first composed.
  Then we get to the gospel detail. Certainly contradictions in the reported versions have caused much debate about the validity of the gospel accounts of the crucifixion and the resurrection. For example: Jesus’ last words were?
Matt.27:46,50: “And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, eli, lama sabachthani?” that is to say, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” …Jesus, when he cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost.”
Or was it: Luke 23:46: “And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, “Father, unto thy hands I commend my spirit:” and having said thus, he gave up the ghost.”
Then in John’s version John 19:30: “When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, “It is finished:” and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost.”
And for that matter who did his followers actually see at the sepulchre?
Mark 16:5 And entering into the sepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed in a long white garment; and they were affrighted.
Luke 24:4 And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments:
John 20:12 And seeth two angels in white sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.
Next we move to the events immediately after the resurrection.
According to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Mary Magdalene was among the group of women who were told by angels at the empty tomb that Jesus had risen “even as he said,” and Luke went as far as to say that when the women heard this, “they remembered his words” (24:9). Such statements as these can be put together with Matthew’s claim that the women encountered Jesus, even held him, and worshipped him as they were running from the tomb to tell the disciples what they had seen, Matt 28:9 This presumably indicates the women were already convinced that Jesus has risen from the dead when they left the tomb. Yet when Mary actually meets Jesus she not only doesn’t recognize him, she tells him that his body is missing from the tomb and she doesn’t know where it has been put.
It is true that some of the minor differences in the accounts eg Was it angels or men in the tomb? How many in the tomb? Who was it who encountered Jesus afterwards? etc may indeed be little more than the typical versions of reporters struggling to remember what they believed they had been told well after the event, but at the very least it would be dishonest to say there was no room for doubt.
  Now for the bit requiring clear thought. I said at the outset that despite the problems there was something very significant about the resurrection. This to my way of thinking was no matter how confusing the accounts now seem in retrospect, something was happening soon after Jesus crucifixion to transform some who had been close to Jesus from being frightened, highly dependent frail humans, into disciples prepared to strike out on their own, passing on Jesus’ teaching and being sufficiently inspirational to draw others to his cause. Perhaps we also need to acknowledge that not all showed these signs of life. If we assign this change to “resurrection”, as far as some were concerned, resurrection must have happened for them in some way even if it should be also allowed a metaphorical sense.
  Biologically I have no idea what resurrection actually meant. Was Jesus properly dead when taken down off the cross? Was the story exaggerated through the next few decades? Truthfully, although I know what I would like to believe – I have no way of proving what I hope to be true. Yet what is absolutely beyond question is that death did not finish Jesus and his message. What is also true is that some – notice I say some – not all – were brought to a new dimension of life in the process.
  I guess many of you would have heard of the resurrection plant. One of the most dramatic of these – (because there are several different plants given the same colloquial name) is the Jericho rose. When it runs out of water as it can do in the desert, it pulls up its roots and looks as if it has shriveled up and died. But it is only hibernating. And according to one reference I read, the Jericho Rose can exist in the desiccated form for up to fifty years. It allows the wind to blow it along in its shriveled state until it somehow senses water. (You’ll have to ask my wife the Latin name for the plant – and ask Prince Charles what to say to one when you see one being blown along the road! He talks to plants. ) Finally having sensed water the resurrection plant puts down its roots and starts growing again.
  You might well focus on the state of Jesus from crucifixion to resurrection and believe it is important to believe the detail. For what it is worth I happen to think it is far more important to individually offer the sort of environment to allow Jesus to take root in our life. Simply stopping and celebrating the detail of that first resurrection is not sufficient for me because knowing about it wouldn’t necessarily change me. In fact I know people who have passed exams in that sort of detail without allowing what Jesus stood for to take root in their lives. One of the gospel accounts has the disciples saying in summary that they had heard the women had told them Jesus was no longer in the tomb but they had a dinner appointment at Emmaus so they were heading to Emmaus instead of following up the story.
  In other words simply hearing about it won’t necessarily make a difference. Metaphorically speaking I think it is only when I allow the resurrection to come alive for me that I will be able to actually show love for my fellows. Maybe then the resurrection plant can teach us something.
  Should we seek Jesus in the empty tomb? That leaves it at history and confusing history at that. Luke’s account has Jesus asking “why do you seek him among the dead”. If he is not perceived amongst the living – among people like us – then why would resurrection matter?

Lectionary Sermon for Good Friday, 6 April 2012 Year B based on John 19:17-30

Good Friday attracts us to safe familiar paths. Each year there we find the call to the in-group of religious spectators and church-goers to rehearse once more the familiar sufferings endured by Jesus, to listen again to the reminder that in some way these sufferings were for our sins, and to hear those familiar words that Jesus died that we might be saved.
  Yet I wonder if the story has become too familiar and even too remote to matter to the way we currently live and order our lives. The standard formula, that Jesus died for our sins that we might be saved, is neither shallow or dishonest, but today’s attitudes mean we should be cautious before rushing too quickly to the familiar religious phrases without first checking we have grasped their relevance and found meaning there for lives now set in a very different world.
  It is true that Jesus is the centre piece of the Good Friday story yet he himself does not seem focussed on expressing his suffering.  According to the gospel accounts although he makes it abundantly clear he would like to avoid the cross, Jesus certainly makes no attempt to run from his impending fate.
  Nor does he make an attempt to avoid offending his enemies. The clearing of the Temple was brave – but in terms of his personal safety, some would have called it foolhardy. He appeared to have permitted Judas to betray him to the authorities, and when the soldiers arrived to arrest him, he prevented Peter from defending him with his sword. He made no recorded plea for mercy and nor as far as we can tell did he curse his enemies. Even on the cross he was concerned for others praying for the forgiveness of his enemies, concerned for his mother – and even reportedly concerned for others crucified with him.
  That he was able to do so in the knowledge he was abandoned by virtually all his followers and that he could remain true to his cause when under extreme duress gives his message of uncompromising love a genuine authenticity.
  However I want to stress we are not called to remember Jesus’ suffering merely as the dramatic reading of the gospel accounts. Listing his sufferings and presenting the collection as the way he died as our deputy to save us from our sins may be good theatre but claiming this is why Jesus will deal to our problems is hardly encouraging us to step out to face whatever life sends our way.
  There is even a question of facing reality if we talk about Jesus dying as the ultimate answer to all our problems. I have no issue with the claim that Jesus died so that the starving children of Dafur, the child prostitutes from the hill tribes of South East Asia, and the war refugees fleeing for their lives might have life: my concern is that our focus on what happened to Jesus might take our attention from the suffering that continues to be. 

  Knowing what we have been saved from has always seems less interesting than the implied underlying question – not from what – but for what have we been saved?
The answer to that second question may be somewhat less demanding of our skill with theology than we think. Surely if we are saved, what we have been saved for should include continuing the mission established by the one we follow.
  Time after time Jesus reminded his followers in a variety of ways that they were simply being called to do what is just, what is right and what is humane. The message about loving one’s neighbour as oneself was nothing more than a challenge to change priorities – to put others ahead of self. I see no reason for assuming that this challenge is any different for us today.
  Lest there was any confusion, on Maundy Thursday – the day before his execution, Jesus not only gave the commandment: Love one another as I have loved you, but in case his hearers might have mistaken this for a platitude, by the act of foot washing he demonstrated the humility called for.
  In retrospect the disciples seemed extraordinarily slow on the uptake. For those of us anxious to get as clear as possible a view of Jesus through the gospel record, it is salutory to remember that the disciples who could not have had a closer contact with Jesus in the flesh appeared to have been no better than modern Church folk in understanding and accepting their discipleship responsibilities. The disciples’ conviction when faced by the antagonism of the Pharisees and Roman authorities simply evaporated. Perhaps they were expecting some miracle so that Jesus could thereby avoid his death.   

  Whatever the case, following through John’s record suggests a variety of degrees of faith and betrayal.
  From what we now know about psychology perhaps we should not be surprised the Pharisees were numbered amongst his enemies. It certainly seems plausible that Pharisees should find it easy to condemn the one who alerted them to embarassing issues of conscience.
  Jesus is betrayed by Judas, perhaps because Jesus fails to take the zealot’s preferred option of violent overthrow of the Roman invaders. Most of Jesus’ male disciples appeared not so much to betray as to make themselves scarce when the chips were down. It is interesting that John appears to give more space to Peter’s actions and words than to those of Jesus in the events of that final evening. Peter famously betrays Jesus by declaring he does not know the one he early identified as the Messiah.
  Yet according to John’s record there were some who remained loyal. A few women- and the unnamed disciple referred only as the beloved disciple were there at the foot of the cross. We should always honour those who are not afraid to support that which they know to be right. Knowing our own reluctance to speak up when it might draw unwelcome attention, we should also be hesitant about condemning those who were not staying to be counted.
  Make no mistake about it. The confusion and inability to stay on course when faced with suffering and death is almost a universal condition rather than simply a weakness which afflicted those weak disciples. Like Peter, we too are tempted to surrender to a loss of nerve and are even alienated when presented with a Love-centred vision for those dimensions of life where love is conveniently absent. Knowing that those who followed Jesus failed him, or even that some who welcomed him with Palm branches may have been among those who a few short days later were prepared to shout “crucify” is now somewhat academic. To admit that we too have these same tendencies to turn from the vision and possibilities of a Love centred life places us back within the Easter scene.
  We cannot avoid the propect of death – either for ourselves or for others who matter to us.The flickering TV images of starving children, news stories of children caught up in prostitution and modern slavery, the destruction of local livelihoods in the name of progress, those who suffer through accident of birth and those deliberately blind to their suffering are unfortunately all common knowledge – we can hardly protest we know nothing of these. Our test comes when we have to decide how we react to the suffering which comes our way. The suffering may well have gained new focus when Jesus was taken to die, but the words of Psalm 22 used by Jesus on the Cross still ring out today.
 If Jesus’ suffering is representative then surely it is representative of the suffering that is still part of thehuman condition. Honouring Jesus and his suffering by coming to worship on Friday is then only the first part. What would give integrity to our intention to give honour is to allow ourselves to first notice and care about the suffering of our community and and world – and then to respond to that suffering: supporting and standing with those prepared to become involved. It may appear a blunt challenge, yet since we can no longer stand literally at the foot of the Cross, if we claim his suffering is important to us, surely we should at least consider putting our money where our mouth is, allowing ourselves to risk position and security, and above all making time available for those swept up in chaos, pain and suffering.
  Our challenge is very clearly not to die as Jesus died. Despite the sincerity and enthusiasm with which we may sing that Good Friday hymn we were simply not there when they crucified my Lord…yet in today’s world where the issues are changed, the same Love that Jesus used to confront issues of Justice, hypocrisy, misfortune and unkindness is still in need of a voice. The cross of Jesus is not a repeatable event, yet in facing that Cross, Jesus was modelling an attitude of love that can continue to find creative ways to confront suffering, pain and need…. if we will but look.
  There is finality in suffering leading to death and the gospels do not allow us to escape the detail. Strangely John’s account never quite leaves us with the feeling that we are looking at one who will be left a corpse of Jesus. John may not have been a particularly good historian in that he leaves us with puzzles and even contradictions when his account is stacked up against those of the synoptic gospels. Nevertheless he is a better poet and theologian. In his account of the crucifixion and subsequent account of the burial we see again and again not the finality of a corpse – but rather the evocative “body of Christ”.
  As the poetry of our communion reminds us – we too can become part of this body. Whether or not we accept that we continue to do so remains the open question.

Lectionary sermon for Palm Sunday 1 April 2012 on Mark 11:1-11 (or John 12:12 – 16)

Palm Sunday as recorded by Mark is a story overlaid with confusion about Jesus, prophetic symbolism and a strange mix of humility and in-your-face political challenge.
You may well already be aware that Jesus entry to Jerusalem is suggested by a number of historians to be only one of two parades into Jerusalem that day – and if the scholars like Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan have it right, the two parades could not have been more unlike.
  The first was the official parade – that of the show of Roman might as the Roman governor Pilate, Governor of Idumea, Judea and Samaria returned from his preferred residence on the coast at Caesarea Maritima to make his obligatory appearance for the religious festival in Jerusalem. Because he was making a political point, it would have been a parade with full military pomp and circumstance. This parade would have course been the big event of the day. The Romans did such occasions well, and the spectacle of the parade would have underlined for the crowd that here was the reminder of substantial power that would brook no challenge. The Roman parade was a not too subtle way of telling people that there was no point in struggling against power or economic exploitation, and even carried the subliminal message that Roman values and even Roman religion was now the only game in town. With a well advertised event, soldiers and weapons like spears and swords on display, foot soldiers with their leather armour, golden eagles on poles and the horse drawn chariots, amongst those watching that parade there would be many spectators who presumably could not help but be impressed.
  There is always some ambiguity about military parades. I read some Palm Sunday sermons written at about the time of the US entry to Baghdad in their occupation of Iraq. A surprising number claimed to have found similarity between that triumphant entry and Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem. Initially that might have even seemed to be the case. However the devastation wrought to enable that Baghdad parade and the widespread violence which was subsequently unleashed through the country might now suggest that whatever the intended message of the victory parade, it was very different to that of Jesus. Now with the 20:20 vision of hindsight, I would like to suggest that the similarity of the Baghdad victory parade was more in keeping with Pilate’s entry, and about as effective in the long term.
  The other parade, in which we understand Jesus entered the city from the other side in the East, through the Mount of Olives would have been much more low-key. It is true that Mark describes a crowd that recognised in Jesus someone to cheer but the scholars are probably correct in guessing that it was not a vast crowd. Nor is it even clear whether or not the cries of “Hosanna” – literally “Save us” might even have included an exaggerated attempt on the part of some in the crowd to highlight the contrast with the entry of the Roman governor. Alternately it would be interesting to discover to what extent it was really the heartfelt cry of those desperate for a saviour. As Mark records it, although blind Bartimaeus had called Jesus the son of David (10:46-52), the crowd did not use those words but rather talked of the kingdom of David. Nor if we are exact, did they even say that with Jesus the kingdom had arrived – but rather shouted of the coming kingdom. According to the scholar A. Schweitzer there may even be a case for saying that if Jesus was thought to be heralding the kingdom then perhaps the crowd thought that Jesus was Elijah – the forerunner of the Messiah, and not the Messiah himself.
  Although some present may have considered Jesus coming in on a donkey almost as a deliberate humble and even mocking contrast with Pilate’s military show, there may have been others who wondered if indeed this might have even been the sign that the ancient prophecy was being fulfilled. Because the Saviour was expected by many to be the return of David, this mode of entry might even have caused confusion. David, you may remember, had his own style of entering a city in triumph. When for example he defeated the Caananites who had taunted him before the battle, he entered the city with his soldiers and promptly ordered the killing of all the men in the city, including the cripples. In this respect at least Jesus was no David.
  The donkey or colt was not just a symbol of humility. According to custom, a great leader wishing to show warlike intent would enter a city on a horse in full armour – but a king coming in peace would sometimes show this intent by riding a colt or a donkey. For those aware of this custom, Jesus’ action might also be interpreted as accepting the title of king – and therefore his coming might even be interpreted as a challenge to the established Church and to Rome.
  The prophet Zechariah in Chapter chapter 9 verse 9 of his book does his own prediction.
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout daughter of Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
righteous and having salvation,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
  The gospel accounts almost seem to be recording the event in such a way as to highlight the way in which Jesus meets Zechariah’s prophecy.
   The cries of “Hosanna” … “Save us” ….and the carpeting of the road with the Palm branches certainly sounds like the welcome of the awaited one. But a closer reading suggests a deep misunderstanding.
  The words which John records the crowd using to greet Jesus are a direct quotation from Psalm 118: 25 and 26 – as it happens, the last Psalm from the group called Hallel (Psalms 113 – 118). As part of the ritual of the Passover feast, worshippers carried bundles made of palm, willow and myrtle branches, and waved them as they marched chanting these same verses from this psalm. The association in the people’s minds with the Messiah as a conqueror is underlined if we remember for example that this same psalm was also sung when Simon Maccabaeus had overcome the Syrian forces and conquered Acra one hundred years previously. Just as Jesus was signalling the type of mission he represented with his entry on the colt, the crowd were signalling in their words and actions that the anointed one they were expecting was to be their mighty leader who could lead to victory over Rome and beyond.
   But did you also notice that the crowd did not continue to behave as those certain that Jesus was the promised one.. If the crowd was sufficiently convinced that here at last was the expected Messiah they would hardly have left Jesus free to quietly withdraw from Jerusalem at the end of the day, with only his regular disciples as company as Mark tells us happened.
   Perhaps one of the problems was that for many, following this Jesus who comes in peace is all very well in theory, but sooner or later there is an inevitable clash of values. Just as Jesus’ parade was a contrast with that of Pilate, fairly quickly we start to reason that those values Pilate was demonstrating – that power talks, that exploitation is fine if you have strong enough support – and even that religion must fit with those values of hierarchy – are awfully close to those values that drive our society even today. To notice that Jesus can and does value those who society can uncaringly reject, showing by example the lowly paid are valued as much as the wealthy, that those typically rejected deserve our time and attention – these may remind us that there is a choice to be made. It is not a challenge to wave and cheer at the one in the parade, that would simply leave us as spectators. It is more the challenge to accept his message and values as our own. Two parades and if there is a choice of which one to follow which one will ultimately gain our loyalty?
  Perhaps most worrying for our modern world is that Jesus, when confronted with the option of force deliberately went with the non-violent option. In terms of assuming the inevitability of the industrial military complex that legitimises much of what the people of most nations appear to believe today this may yet be the hardest aspect of Jesus teaching for us to accept as a value that we genuinely wish to follow. Saying Jesus is right, presumably means that those who advocate force to maintain control and global position are wrong.
  There is a counter intuitive aspect to Christianity but this does not mean it is necessarily impractical. Over the last few years we have seen several dramatic examples where common sense fails and the Christ alternative apparently has more to offer. Punishing terrorism with military might, as common sense appears to dictate, would seem to increase the incidence of terrorism…whereas the Jesus alternative of forgiving and even showing love to our enemies remains the largely untried option. Capital punishment and relaxed gun laws may provide a feeling of security, but in reality the statistics of the location of serious crime rates and high imprisonment rates do not match the intentions of the extreme solutions. To encourage the creation of wealth may seem common sense, but where this is done the gap between the rich and the poor appears to widen. Jesus’ example of caring for the underprivileged is the option which is still to attract real support. To stay with Jesus’ parade is not in the final analysis a question of whether or not we too can sing our Hosannas. To become part of the parade is to understand that we too must accept Jesus’ values and allow them to become part of our lives. As long as we watch from the sidelines like those original spectators for Jesus’ original Palm Sunday parade the ambiguity and confusion as to who Jesus is will remain. The man on the donkey awaits our response.