Taking Part In The Anti-March

Palm-Passion Sunday – Taking Part In The Anti-March

March 25, 2018

 

Julius Caesar was born 100 years before Jesus.

By most accounts he was a military genius –

he defeated Britain, France, Belgium, and much of Germany.

He was also popular –

both rich and poor loved him –

he gave tax cuts to the rich;

an he gave land to the poor.

It was said that he knew the name of every soldier in battle.

He was a charismatic leader.

 

And yet, the Roman Senate elected Pompey.

And then they asked Caesar to release his armies.

 

Caesar had a decision to make…

It’s said that the phrase “the die is cast” (in Latin) comes from Caesar’s moment of decision.

 

Instead of releasing his armies,

he decided to cross the Rubicon – to cross the river into Italy.

And from there he went on to defeat Spain, Greece, Egypt, Syria, and Pontus.

(I’m grateful for the research of Bishop Mike Rinehart and Jesus The Last Day: A Collection of Essays).[i]

 

After this seminal time in history,

Caesar takes a triumphal march into Rome.

Branches are thrown before him.

Cloaks are thrown on the ground.

He is given a purple robe and a gold crown.

As Caesar rides by on his horse – decked in his military dress –

people shout out, “Hail Caesar! Hail Caesar!”

 

In later years, this became a pattern…

Military leaders, fresh from battle would return triumphantly with a march –

each one trying to outdo the other.

 

Some leaders passed out perfumes to the crowd –

creating an ‘aroma of victory.’

 

Others began to include a bull in the procession

which would then be sacrificed on an altar before the people.

One part of the ritual was that the military victor would be presented with a cup of wine,

which he would ceremoniously refuse,

and instead would pour out onto the altar –

symbolizing the blood of the sacrifice.

 

I can imagine by now,

you can see some of the similarities between these military marches in Rome,

with what Mark descripes in his gospel as Jesus enters Jerusalem.

 

After all, Mark was in all likelihood written in Rome – and for Roman Christians.

They were very familiar with Caesar’s triumphal march and subsequent military processions.

 

Of course, Mark’s version of the march –

Mark’s description of Jesus’ procession into the city and then to the cross –

is different from these military marches in several pointed ways.

 

Jesus enters the city not on a horse,

but on a donkey – a symbol of peace.

 

He is given a purple robe and a crown –

but it is not a crown of gold, but of thorns.

 

People throw branches and strew their garments ahead of him,

as they shout out, “Hail, King of the Jews! Hail, King of the Jews!”

 

Later he too is given a cup of wine,

and he too refuses it – as he himself becomes the blood of the sacrifice.

 

Jesus’ march – Jesus’ procession into the city – is purposely different from Ceasar’s.

It is the “anti-march.”

Some scholars call it a counter-demonstration, a counter- protest

to Rome’s traditional military marches celebrating power and prestige and privilege.

 

How appropriate it is that we hear this story today –

the day after the March for Our Lives held yesterday in our nation’s capitol.

 

Yesterday’s march was an anti-march;

it was a counter-demonstration; a counter-protest.

 

It was an anti-march in that there actually was no march –

there were too many people for anyone to walk anywhere!

 

It was an anti-march in that the voices lifted up were not the powerful and prestigious and privileged

voices we often hear in Washington.

There were no big-name speakers or politicians on stage.

Instead there were children – youth – high school students and younger.

 

Perhaps one of the most compelling voices was that of Naomi Wadler.

Naomi is 11 years old and attends George Mason Elementary School here in Alexandria –

the same school where some of our young people attend.

 

Naomi and her friend Carter organized a walk-out a couple of weeks ago,

on the day of the high school walkouts in remembrance of those who died in school shootings

in Parkland, FL.

Most of the walk-outs were for 17 minutes –

one minute for each of the students who were killed.

 

But Naomi had another idea….she wanted the walkout at George Mason Elementary School to last 18 minutes –

she wanted to include Courtlin Arrington, a teenager who was killed

at her school in Birmingham, AL after the Parkland shooting.

 

Courtlin was an African-American high school student shot at her school.

Naomi wanted to draw attention to girls of color who have been killed by guns –

and yet whose stories have not made the front page of our newspapers.

 

With incredible poise, Naomi said,

“I am here to acknowledge and represent the African American girls

whose stories don’t make the front page of every national newspaper,

whose stories don’t lead on the evening news.”

 

In the midst of this anti-march, led by young people,

Naomi presented a still more alternative vision –

to acknowledge those whose stories are ignored or forgotten.

 

This is what Jesus did.

 

With his entry into the city,

Jesus took part in a protest, a counter-demonstration, an anti-march.

He claimed solidarity not with the military or religious leaders of the city,

but with those without power, without prestige, and without privilege.

He lifted the voices of the innocent, the poor, and the marginalized.

 

As followers of him, may we take part in the anti-march.

 

Amen.

[i] https://bishopmike.com/2018/03/16/passion-palm-sunday-march-25-2018/

Friends In Low Places

Friends in Low Places

John 4:1-10

March 18, 2018

 

Any country music fans here?

If so, you probably know some Garth Brooks…

One of his songs is, “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places.”

 

As the lyrics go, a cowboy shows up in a flannel shirt and boots

To a black tie affair where he meets up with his ex-partner.

She’s one to enjoy the high society life.

He’s different – he prefers his ‘friends in low places.’

 

That kind of describes Jesus, doesn’t it?

 

We’re continuing on during Lent

to talk about the places Jesus walked (using Adam Hamilton’s book, “The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus”)

 

A couple of weeks ago we talked about Capernaum –

and Jesus’ healing ministry starting there.

 

Last week we talked about the mountains where Jesus taught –

and in particular the place he taught The Sermon on the Mount.

 

Today we’re looking at the area of Samaria.

Samaria is important because this is a place

Where Jesus lived out his intention to make ‘friends in low places.’

 

I’d like you to look at your bulletins to see the map of the area.

Notice that if Jesus were traveling from Jerusalem to Galilee,

The most direct route would be straight through the region of Samaria.

 

But most Jews – most good Jews – didn’t do that.

Most Jews would take a detour – they’d rather spend an extra day or two to avoid Samaria.

 

Why?

Well the conflict between Jews and Samaritans was hundreds of years old.

In the 8^th century BCE, the Assyrians defeated Israel.

They took some Israelites back with them to live in exile.

But also some Assyrians stayed in Israel – in the area of Samaria.

Over the years they intermarried with the Israelites.

And so by the time of Jesus – still – those who lived in Samaria were considered ‘half-breeds.’

 

They weren’t allowed to worship in the temple in Jerusalem,

So they had their own temple at Mt Gerazim.

 

We come to today’s story where Jesus is passing through Samaria,

And he stops at a well.

It’s noon.

 

It was mostly women who went to the well every day to collect water.

But typically they went in the morning, before it got too hot…

And they would gather and talk at the well as their day began.

 

As Jesus sits at the well at noon,

A Samaritan woman comes to draw water.

 

So already we know, there must be something interesting

About this woman who’d show up at the well at noontime – maybe to avoid the other women.

Later we learn that she’s been married five times,

And the man she’s currently living with is not her husband.

Shocking!

 

Jesus asks her for a cup of water.

Now for a Jew to ask a Samaritan to share a cup of water,

Would be kind of like in the 1950’s Jim Crow south,

Using a water fountain that was marked for someone else.

It just wasn’t done – it wasn’t appropriate.

 

But Jesus preferred ‘friends in low places.’

His ministry was to the outsiders – the ones that others would ignore or worse.

 

Tony Campolo is a sociologist from Eastern University.

He does a lot of public speaking around the country.

He tells a story about a time when he had a speaking engagement in Hawaii.

 

He had a hard time adjusting to the time change,

And on his first night there, it was 2:30 in the morning and he was wide awake.

 

He realized he was hungry.

So he walked out of the hotel to find something to eat – at 2:30 in the morning.

He finds a nearby diner that’s open.

 

It’s one of those diners that’s open all the time –

(I’m reminded of the “Round the Clock” diner in York, Pa).

It’s not a fancy place.

 

He walks into the diner and sits at the counter.

Behind the counter is a guy whose nametag says ‘Harry.’

He’s wearing a white tee shirt – and the tee shirt is covered in grease.

 

Harry offers Tony a menu,

But Tony isn’t so sure he even wants to touch the menu –

It’s all sticky.

 

So Tony says, “I’ll just have a coffee and a donut.”

 

Harry pours him a cup of coffee,

And goes out back – somewhere – to find a donut.

 

Meanwhile, the door to the diner opens,

And 5 or 6 women walk in – they’re prostitutes.

 

And they take seats at the counter next to Tony.

 

Tony hears one of the prostitutes talking to the woman next to her.

She says, “Hey – did you know that tomorrow’s my birthday?”

The other woman responds sarcastically,

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?

Throw you a birthday party or bake a cake or something?”

 

‘No,” the first woman says.

“I’ve never had a cake or a party.

I just wanted to say that it’s my birthday tomorrow – I’ll be 39.”

 

After the women leave,

Tony has an idea.

 

He calls Harry over and says,

“Harry – did you see the woman that was sitting next to me at the counter?”

 

Harry says,

“Yes – that’s Agnes.”

 

Tony continues, “Well Agnes is having a birthday tomorrow. She’s going to be 39 year old.”

 

“Isn’t that something?” Harry responds.

 

Tony says, “I have an idea…do these women come here every night?”

 

Harry says, “Sure they do – same time – every night they’re here at 3am.”

 

“Well, “ Tony says, “What do say we throw Agnes a birthday party tomorrow night?

Right here in the diner!”

 

Harry starts to smile. “That’s a great idea!” he says.

“Agnes is a good one – she’s really a very kind woman once you get to know her.”

And Harry calls his wife Joan, who as it turns out is the cook.

She comes out front and gets excited about the party – and offers to bake a cake.

 

The next day, word seems to spread around the nighttime workers,

That there’s going to be a birthday party for Agnes at the diner.

 

Tony buys some streamers and hangs them all around the diner.

He gets some poster board and makes a sign, “Happy Birthday Agnes!”

And hangs it behind the counter on the mirror.

 

As 2:30am comes around, the diner is already packed with Agnes’ friends.

 

Precisely at 3am, Agnes and a few others come into the diner.

The diner erupts with “Happy Birthday Agnes!”

 

And Agnes is overwhelmed.

Her knees start to buckle and she gets teary-eyed.

 

But then comes the cake….

Joan comes out with a birthday cake just for Agnes,

With the candles all lit.

 

Agnes is still so overwhelmed she can’t blow out the candles herself –

She asks Harry to help.

 

And then Harry says, “Well, are you gonna cut the cake already?”

 

Agnes pauses and then says,

“Would it be okay if we didn’t cut the cake?

Would it be okay if I took the cake with me to show my mother?”

 

Harry says, “Well it’s your cake.”

 

And right then Agnes walks out the door with her cake.

 

After that, the diner became quiet – it was kind of awkward – they weren’t sure what to do.

 

So Tony says that he’s not sure why, but he said,

“Why don’t we pray?”

 

And he did – he prayed for Agnes and her birthday,

And the women, and their lives, and those who had been exploited by others,

And the pain they experienced….

 

And when he was done praying, Harry says,

“Hey – you didn’t tell me you were a preacher!

What kind of church are you at?”

 

“The kind of church that has birthday parties for prostitutes at 3 o’clock in the morning!” Tony responds.

 

But then Harry says..

“Nah…there isn’t a church like that.

Because if there were a church like that – I’d join it!”

 

(pause)

 

Jesus chose friends in low places.

He wanted to model a church ‘like that.’

 

A challenge for us today is…

What is one thing you will do this week to make a friend in ‘low places’?

What can you do to help us be a church ‘like that’?

 

Amen.

 

 

Faith Story – Resettling a Refugee Family

Faith story shared by Denise Elfes. Only initials are shared for the family’s privacy and safety.

Let me introduce you to a family

O. is a husband and father to 5 great kids. When he isn’t at work, he likes to swim at any opportunity. He also likes to play chess, or perhaps I should say that he likes to lose to his sons at chess.

T. is his wife. She likes gardening and is a terrific cook. T. also likes to sew, but unfortunately, currently her back hurts her too badly for her to do any sewing.

M. is the eldest daughter. She is 16 and a junior in high school where her favorite subject is history. She loves to read and watch movies. A perfect afternoon would be watching her favorite movie, The Faults in Our Stars and eating Snickers!

S. is 14 and a freshman in high school where her favorite subjects are math and science, which is good because S. wants to be a doctor. When asked what her favorite food was, she told me that it is pizza, and anything her mother cooks! She also loves to read. One of her favorite books turns out to one of my favorites too. The Kite Runner. We laughed about the fact that we both liked it, though she read it in Arabic and I in English. She likes watching sunsets and the moon, and especially snow!

MH, or H. as his family calls him, is 13 and is a very good chess player. He is also an orange belt in Karate, though he hasn’t trained since he left Egypt. His favorite class is history and math, which will come in handy in his planned career as a doctor.  He told me he wants to be a doctor because no one in his family ever has been.  I’m really proud of him.  He was nominated by his math teacher to be a student in the Early Identification Program at George Mason.  It is designed to help students from “Non-College” families. It offers advanced classes and workshops to help such students get a quick start towards a college-based career. He is a little confused, but also happy about it. He is a typical teen-ager in that most afternoons you’ll find him in his room playing video games.

A. is 11 and wants to be a heart surgeon! His favorite class is math and he is also a good chess player. Last Tuesday when I was there, he and I played a game of chess against H., and we won. H. was impressed that I knew how to play chess. He plays volleyball on his class team and also  likes to play American Football with his friends at school and to swim.

A. is the baby of the family at 8 years old. He is adorable. He told me that he likes to play basketball and playing with remote controlled cars and helicopters. He also told me that he had to leave his remote controlled toys in Egypt when they left. He likes candy and Disney cartoons.

These are the O’s, the Syrian refugee family that we are sponsoring along with Old Presbyterian Meeting House and First Christian.  I first met them when I signed up to help collect furnishings for their new home.  They were so grateful. Since then, I have visited them numerous times, and with each visit I have become closer to them. I took them shoe shopping with Gigi, I took T. and the girls grocery shopping and out to lunch.  That was the first time that they went out without O., and he was so nervous. They invited me to dinner one Sunday afternoon, but often, we just talk and have coffee, always coffee.  I love watching them blossom as they become comfortable in their new surroundings. I also love watching their English improving. I am so proud of them, especially O.’s getting a job.

 

I have never done anything like this before.  When they say “God works in mysterious ways” I couldn’t agree more.  I look forward to visiting the O’s.  We communicate using Google translate and that’s always a source of amusement.  We use it less and less as their English improves. T. and I have become friends.  I was so touched recently when O. declared that I am no longer just a friend of their family, I am now a member of it.  I almost cried I was so touched.  I don’t know who gets more from this friendship, but I think it is probably me.  I am blessed to have them as friends.

 

We are planning a dinner here with the O’s.  I hope that you will plan on attending so that you too can have an opportunity to meet my Syrian family, O., T., M., S., H., A., and A.

 

At some point, T. and O. would love to run a catering company.  She made a Syrian dish called Magdues, made of stuffed eggplant, walnuts, and spices.  She made several jars of it for us.  I am selling them for her for $10 each.  If you would like to purchase one, they are in the lounge.  This is a way for her to start earning some money, so purchasing one would be a great motivator for her!  And I think it is delish.

 

Reflection on Viola Liuzzo

Shared by Marlene Koenig at Midweek Lenten Holden Evening Prayer as part of our series on reflections on Civil Rights leaders.

 

It’s Everybody’s Fight

 

Growing up in Chattanooga, Tennessee, Viola Liuzzo was acutely aware, even as a child, that her dirt poor family had more privileges than local black families, although they shared the same income inequity.  This realization would come to fruition in the early 1960s, when she was living a comfortable life with her second husband, Teamsters official Anthony James Liuzzo, and their five children (two were from her first marriage) that belied her desire to help others.

In December 2017, Donna Britt wrote a profile of Viola – her childhood hero – for the Washington Post.   Viola was a white mom who went to Alabama to fight for civil rights.   She was killed by the Ku Klux Klan.

Viola was 39 years old when she was killed.  She was cute, as Donna Britt wrote in her profile.  She was a mom who willingly put herself into a dangerous position by traveling to Alabama to march with Martin Luther King Jr., in Selma in March 1965.  For Donna Britt, an African-American journalist, learning about a white woman, who left her home to fight for people she didn’t know – this was an awakening –  she realized that the “monsters” — the racists could attack anyone.

Viola is not the best known of civil rights activists.  But she was “everything you’d want in a mom – and hero – to be,” said one of her daughters, Mary, who was a tenth grader when Viola was killed.  Penny, her eldest daughter, said her mother was not a martyr but a “wonderful human being who loved every living creature.”

Reflection on Adam Clayton Powell, Jr.

Shared by Denise Steene as part of this year’s midweek Lenten series.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you Lord.  Amen.  Tonight, I will share the story of Adam Clayton Powell Jr., referred to by one biographer as an “unapologetic activist and dedicated crusader for civil rights.”

I hope to live up Powell’s own mantra:  “make remarks like a woman’s skirt, long enough to be respectable but short enough to be interesting.”

 

God certainly works through imperfect, yet charismatic people to do his work on earth.  Moses, King David and Saul/Paul all quickly come to mind.  And I think Adam Clayton Powell Junior, born in 1908, can easily be added to the list.  One of the legendary slogans of this flamboyant leader was, “Keep the faith, baby; spread it gently and walk together, children.”

 

Powell, a fair-skinned Black man, the grandson of freed slaves and the son of a Baptist preacher lived out his faith in the many avenues he pursued in his calling to do justice and help the poor.  As a Pastor, politician, writer, editor, and activist, Powell said of himself, “I am the product of the sustained indignation of a branded grandfather, the militant protest of my grandmother, the disciplined resentment of my father and mother, and the power of the mass action of the church.”