April 14, 2019 - Palm Sunday Luke 19: 28-40; Ps. 118
“That would be kbd indeed!”
Palm Sunday parade
Do you remember how Walter Brueggemann describes the Psalms in three movements? There are Psalms of New Orientation, of Dislocation, of Re-orientation.
Palm Sunday begins with New Orientation. “The King of glory comes the heavens rejoicing.” The Hebrew word for “glory” is “kbd” or heavy(like saying “Wow – that’s heavy stuff!”) Well it was/it is.
I know, some scholars say Palm Sunday didn’t happen. But in my Bible it happens, or ask any little kid who is lucky enough to be in a Sunday school where they get to parade with palm branches.
Some say nothing came of it. The King fell into dis-location – as one despised and rejected. The attention-deficit world laughed and went back to their version of Facebook and Twitter.
I know this about revelation: Christ is only King if we pay attention.
Palm Sunday for me is a time for re-orientation. There is a triumphal entry if I can face up to the demands of a dying and rising Savior. This means not getting distracted by the noise we make in our solemn assemblies.
On this Sunday, for one brief shining moment, the veil is lifted and those most denied the fortunes of that day, rejoiced – they had a Savior too. kbd!
What about us preachers, the tellers of the story? Preachers, don’t you feel like scrapping the most recent “who is right and who got it wrong” and simply saying to the people who bear the name Methodist: The King of Glory comes – kbd! (that’s heavy).
Who knows, perhaps Palm Sunday is special this year because we see the victory brought by one despised and rejected by (of all people) his own religious community. Sort of makes one who is certain about her/his doctrine and theology stop for a moment—pause, reflect, question -- if it happens, that would be kbd, indeed!
Blessed be thou, O Christ our King, who comes in the name of the Lord. “Hosanna in the highest” we cry in grateful voice. From the rising of the sun until it’s going down,
Our praise will ring—Hosanna in the highest! Amen
Maundy Thursday, April 18, 2019
“What wondrous love is this, O my Soul…”
I remember it so well. It was Thursday in Holy Week and it was my practice to take Communion to shut-ins. Maude lived alone on her century farm. Her son now farmed the land and stopped by daily to check on her. When she knew that I was coming she would prepare a bit of lunch. We would visit and then I would prepare the elements for Communion.
Communion Pottery
On this day in my haste I had forgotten to bring the wine. I said, “Maude, we have no wine.” She thought for a moment and said, “I have no grape juice but there is orange juice. Will that do?” I said, “I don’t know!” She said, “We won’t tell the Bishop and I am sure that the Lord Jesus will not mind.” So we celebrated and a new bond was created between us.
I have wondered some about the simple act of broken bread and spilled wine offered in the name of Jesus. Some groups go to great lengths to protect the bread, and to decide who is worthy to receive. Others offer the meal in a rather thoughtless way. We United Methodists follow in the Wesleyan tradition and allow the children to participate. Others insist they should first understand the meaning before taking. My response to those is to ask, “And do you understand it?”
For the life of me, I do not understand many things. Why robins know when it is spring, or why a tiny heart begins to beat in the womb. Or why a bit of bread dipped in a cup of wine seems to make it all better – life, I mean.
The first time communion happened was at the table of betrayal. This year will be special. We have seen our church dragged through debate and discourse—and now a rumor of cheating by some who were not eligible to vote. The struggle continues to discover who is clean and who is unclean – the worthy and the unworthy. Indeed, who may we offer in the Lord’s name the elements of bread and wine?
This I know: On Maundy Thursday I will find a communion line, and cup my hands to receive. We do not “take” communion, it must be given—nothing in my hands I bring, only to thy cross I cling. I think in the act of receiving there may be revealed to us more than bread and wine. I like to think that there is hiddenness—an opaque moment when we see through the veil—a glimpse of the hidden revealed. Indeed, we see ourselves as we really are, warts and all. And wonder of wonders, we can change! I find myself saying, “What wondrous love is this, oh my soul?” –as I am caught up – “lost in wonder, love and praise.”
O thou Lord Jesus Christ, who in the night you were betrayed took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to thy disciples, give to us now in this hour, we beseech thee, that bread of life which will make us full partakers of thy glory, both now and forever more. Amen(by Fred Gealy)
MEMO For Those Who Preach
Good Friday – April 19, 2019
Hebrews 13: 13 “Jesus also suffered outside the gate…let us then go to him outside the camp, bearing the stigma that he bore, For here we have no permanent home, but we are seekers after the city which is to come.”
I have read many reports and opinions regarding the recent General Conference, as well as what our Bishop and Cabinet wrote to us in Iowa. I have signed on with a group who responded to the Cabinet. I have encouraged those pastors and laity who ask, “What should we do?” to “Stay with the boat.” Jumping ship is no solution.
Then I made a return to the hospital, this time to have the heart doctors decide my fate. Because I’m 85, they initially ruled out surgery. I resisted their opinion because I didn’t wish to carry a jug of oxygen around with me for the rest of my life. Then a doctor said, “We have a new thing — a procedure best described as putting a clip onto a heart valve.” (I will spare you the details but the thing worked and I feel good!)
Crucifixion
While going through all of this, I found myself wondering what I would be doing and saying if I were a young pastor today. I have been around for lots of years and I have seen a thing or two, so here are some thoughts:
In the 1960s civil rights struggle, I was a young pastor serving in my first appointment in Colesburg, Iowa. The mayor of Colesburg still reminds me of how dangerous it was for me to have taken him and another friend to Mississippi the same month that the FBI discovered the bodies of three martyred civil rights workers, and how it changed his life. Somehow we the Church got through those times and came out of it a more unified body. I am mystified by our current struggle. Why are we having such difficulty resolving the current issue?
One thing I do know, solve it we must. Not to save the Church nor to feel personal relief. No! But when a group of people is singled out for persecution for reasons far beyond their control, the central teaching of Jesus is placed in jeopardy. The goal of the Christian life is to create neighborliness – the beloved community. How we treat our neighbors remains the test of our Christian faith expressed in our behavior. So what would I be doing if I were a young pastor these days?
- I would go looking for my lost sense of humor. We are making fools of ourselves in public and we can’t see it.
- I would ask often, why is anyone so afraid of a group of people who ask only to be treated with respect? Why do I hesitate to speak up for the persecuted that have no voice?
- I would seek out a trusted colleague to help me with numbers one and two. Alone is very bad company!
- I would call on each family in my parish, simply because we will not know what to say on Sunday unless we know the folks. I still remember a home visit with well-known members of the church. Their adult son was also home for a visit. Later they told me of their son who was “different” and asked would I keep their secret. In days to follow, he would become a close friend, and he eventually came out of the shadows to help me with his mother’s funeral. How long must we play such games with each other?
- I would not practice selective sisterhood or brotherhood. That is the solution that the General Conference came up with. I find it to be neither Wesleyan nor Christian.
- I would search for the equivalent of going to Mississippi. Those trips, fraught with danger, changed lives all over America, because in going we joined with the victims outside the camp.
In the text from Hebrews we note that Jesus was crucified outside the camp, taking his place with the sinned against.
Let us then stand with the victims! Ten or fifteen years down the road, you will be glad that you did, and you will look back and wonder how we who follow Jesus could have been so blind.
O God, as we descend into the deep darkness of this crucifixion day, when wittingly and unwittingly we crucified thee afresh in our neighbor, we pray that thou wilt make clear to us our need of a savior, and that thou will be to us the Savior that we need; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
(A Prayer by Fred Gealy)
The Rev. Bill Cotton of Des Moines, Iowa, is a retired clergy member of the Iowa Annual Conference. With the cooperation of colleagues, he produces MEMO for Those Who Preach, which is distributed by email. Click here to subscribe.