Good Question -- John 18:1-19:42

Grace and peace from God our Creator, hope in our Redeemer Jesus the Christ, and the promised gifts of the Holy Spirit are with you, always. Amen.

I ask a lot of questions. My hospital chaplaincy supervisor wrote in my final evaluation that I was “naturally curious”—he was the recipient of a lot of my questions. I ask questions of my self, my friends, my pastors, my professors, my family, my government, my God. My main man Martin Luther asked a lot of questions, too. One of his most-asked was “What does this mean?” A lot of the time, he was asking as a rhetorical device and had an excellent answer. Sometimes, though, it’s a mystery. I think I excel at this aspect of being Lutheran.

The gospel narrative we enacted for Good Friday is full of questions—including some big ones.

“Whom are you looking for?”
“Are you the King of the Jews?”
“Are you not one of his disciples?”
“What is truth?”
“Shall I crucify your king?”

Good Friday seems to have a lot more questions than it has answers.

And preaching on Good Friday is always an extra challenge—every other occasion is preaching the “good news” and Good Friday, in and of itself, is not good news. We first entered into this Lenten season of death on Ash Wednesday, when we remembered that we are dust, and to dust we shall return. We know that everything that lives also dies. Death and the return to dust ends every life.[1] Even the life of Jesus.

But the good news is that Good Friday is not in and of itself! Good Friday is part of the whole story of God. Without Good Friday, there would be no tomb, so there would be no empty tomb!

Good Friday raises a lot of questions about who we are and how we live out the good news. Today, “we are invited to accompany Jesus very closely in this, his long-awaited hour, and to pray for the grace to be able to understand these events”—and ask these questions. They “invite us to become their witnesses in our own lives.”[2]

One of my favorite questions for Good Friday is “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” It’s an old spiritual, do you know it?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?Were you there when they crucified my Lord?Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
This haunting piece of music and history invites us to the foot of the cross. It asks us this question to which of course our literally true answer is no, I was not there. But what evil has been done right in front of my face that I have watched, trembling? What evil do I confess has been done in front of my face and I have turned away?

Dr. Shawn Copeland is a black Catholic theologian, and she says, “On this Good Friday, let us kneel before the broken, crucified body of Jesus. Let us kneel before the disappeared and murdered bodies of thousands of peasants, workers, vowed religious sisters and brothers, ministers and priests in Latin America;the raped and abused bodies of young boys and girls and women who have survived sexual assault by clergy and church workers; the torn bodies of prostitutes forced to trade themselves for survival; the rejected bodies of gays and lesbians; the swollen bodies of children dying in hunger; the scarred and bruised bodies of women, men and children suffering with AIDS; the despised bodies of red and brown and black and yellow women and men. To kneel before these bodies is a first step in grasping our collusion in their suffering and death; it is a first step in grasping the gratuitous love of the crucified Jesus. Let us kneel in love and thanksgiving for the wondrous love of God.”[3]

There is so much beauty that happens in our world that we thank God for, but there is so much violence that we cannot thank God for. There is so much that goes on in our world that we need to look at, need to really see, really engage, not ignore, not pass by, and most importantly ask big questions about.

The message of Good Friday is not that God endorses violence. It is not that God needed the blood of Jesus spilled in order to be powerful. We did that. Humans did that. Humans spill the blood of other humans in order to feel powerful. The message of Good Friday is not to continue to live and die in this way.

Interfaith Youth Core published a blog post about how “Good Friday…makes plain how much we have bought into the myth of redemptive violence, and how wrong we are to do so.”[4] When Peter cuts off the ear of the high priest’s slave, Jesus says “no more of this” so we must also say “no more of this” to violence and evil in our communities.[5] As Christians, we are “here to testify that redemptive violence does not bring peace, but more violence, and that Easter shows us that another way of doing things is possible.”

The message of Good Friday is not “Crucify him!” but rather “Woman, this is your son” and “here is your mother.” These words of Jesus remind us that, even in the midst of his own torture and death, Jesus was connecting his family and friends to one another, reminding them of their inextricable link—life together in the family of God.

What death and violence can we renounce today and instead remember that each broken body we encounter is the body of Christ?

On this somber and holy Friday, “May the Lord bless you with holy anger, with discomfort with easy answers, and with the foolishness to dream of another way of being.”[6]

Amen.



[1] McEvenue, Sean. “Violence and Evil in the Bible” in International Bible Commentary, 298.
[2] Okure, Teresa. “John” in International Bible Commentary, 1494.
[3] Copeland, Shawn. “A Reflection for Good Friday” Pax Christi USA, 2014. http://paxchristiusa.org/2014/04/18/holy-week-2014-reflection-for-good-friday/
[4] Suckstorff, Hana. “Is Good Friday a Misnomer?” Interfaith Youth Core, 2012. http://www.ifyc.org/content/good-friday-misnomer
[5] Hunter, Rhashell. “Good Friday” in Preaching God’s Transformative Justice, 190.
[6] Suckstorff.

Spinning Clumsiness into Sunshine

I fell off my bike again yesterday.

As a newly minted Davis bike commuter--hold your applause, it's a 3-mile round trip--I have been figuring out the details of gear shifting and hand signals and unabashed helmet-wearing (I am an OVERWHELMING minority).

I'm not proud of my ineptitude--shouldn't I be adult enough to stay upright on a bicycle?--but I'm not totally embarrassed of it, either. Failing at riding my bike some of the time means I'm succeeding at riding my bike the rest of the time--and the simple fact is, I'm riding my bike to work instead of driving my car, and that's saving me money on gas as well as adding cardio to an otherwise sedentary day.

And each morning/afternoon I've ridden through the park and down B Street to the Belfry, and each afternoon/evening I've ridden home, I've noticed that I'm smiling. I can't help it. The sun is shining (sometimes the moon) and it's been pretty warm either way and sometimes there's a nice breeze...and other people are riding their bikes, too, or walking their dogs or whatever. Somehow the small act of riding my bike to work spins an otherwise harried few minutes in the car into a carefree jaunt through a park.

At the LEVN retreat in February, we watched a TED talk about a mapping app that found alternative routes--not just fastest, but greenest, quietest, and happiest. It crowdsourced this data from beta users, who looked at photographs of the routes and tagged those photos with adjectives, positive and negative. The app only exists in Barcelona and London, but it changed the presenter's life. He said he'd been biking (which is already better but still wasn't good enough) down these main streets in London that took him the miles from his home to his office. One day, there were road closures or construction or something and so he made a quick turn and went up the next block, discovering that his entire route bordered a public park, and he'd never even seen it. It took a handful more minutes to go that route each day (the path is curved and/or indirect) but as far as happiness is concerned, it revolutionized the mood with which he traveled to and from work.

Though I've only been biking to work for two weeks, and have to drive some days because I'm schlepping a crock pot of soup, it has already changed the way I think about where I live. For every day I fall off my bike, there are several days on which I do not. The Casey of a few years ago would never have even considered riding her bike every day, and certainly wouldn't have believed she was capable. The Casey of yesterday is tempted to side with the Casey of a few years ago, given the bruise on her knee and ego. But the Casey of today rode her bike to work, anyway, somehow spinning clumsiness into sunshine.

That Crafty Feeling, I guess.

I just read "That Crafty Feeling", a chapter of Zadie Smith's book of essays Changing My Mind. It was a talk she gave to students a few years ago. She talked about structuring something you're writing and how her novel-writing process works/doesn't work and how foreign someone else's is.

I don't know exactly if I'm a "Micro-Manager" or "Macro Planner" (obviously my first instinct is the latter), because when I write something important--for school or a sermon--I tend to outline and/or write the middle first and move stuff around and delete whole paragraphs. She says that, for her, the first sentences is the first sentence and the last the last. To me, that sounds ABSURD. My brain could never go A-Z. I guess that answers that.

What's the coolest about this piece was that it made me want to write something! I think I miss producing words, since I'm not in seminary anymore.

In my Passion Planner (PS get one) I wrote in the "lifetime" section the goal of writing a book--a goal I definitely have but have indefinitely. Do I want to be a published theologian? Feminist? Hilarious millennial? Memoirist? Novelist? Short story author? Yes? Hahahaha.

I think that settling into my new job and life a little more has allowed/will allow me more time to sit down and read and write for pleasure. I think I may need to assign myself some of that, though.

I have intentions of kicking the blog back into gear but that always happens when I least expect it (like today when I'm about to post two things in two days after weeks of silence) and not when I plan. I'd likely be more blogtastic if I knew how public I wanted it to be. Sure, it's on the internet so it's obviously not private, but most of my real-life communities are not aware of its web address. When I write things of particular current-event substance, I share it on twitter or the facebook or whatever, but that's rare.

Anyway, I hope you're consuming media that inspires you to create and produce things. Tell me about them!