The King has come, but not quite as expected. Jesus rides into Jerusalem in triumph, but on a donkey, not a war horse. It quickly turns from a processional parade to the journey to Golgatha. It quickly turns from a party to betrayal and denial. Jesus’ inner circle, his friends, gather with him as he prays. They fall asleep but Jesus continues to pray. His friends are unaware of the plot to find him, all except for Judas. It is Judas who gives him away. It is Peter who deceives him by claiming that he doesn’t know Jesus.
Jesus is all too aware of the dangers of that will befall him. He is all too aware of what the Roman government is capable of doing. The most difficult encounter of this journey still lies ahead as we face with Jesus the climax of this relationship with him. All we can do is to stay close and follow him, listen and watch, because ‘something wonderful’ is about to happen this week.
Something wonderful is about to happen this week, but this something wonderful happens only after the pain, sorrow, suffering, alienation and isolation that is being human. That something wonderful can’t be gotten to too quickly, that something wonderful is a promise. The paradox here for us is that we know the end of the story. You and I know about the resurrection, and often we wish to jump over all of the pain and alienation, the suffering and sadness that is represented by Holy Week, to get there.
But we just can’t. We need to live in this Holy Week. We need to be on this road with Jesus, who at one moment seems the champion, and the next seems the lowly outcast, to really understand and experience Easter Joy.
This is something I don’t have to tell you, you all know this. You know this because every one of you has lived this same story. Your story is part of the story of God’s activity in Jesus.
Which one of you has experienced the pain and sorrow of losing someone you love? Which one of you has accompanied your spouse or your loved one through the ravages of chemo and of radiation? Which one of you has spent hours at your parent’s bedside, watching and praying while they die, the only thing you are able to do is hold their hand. Which one of you has spent your life time watching a sibling drink themselves to death, or smoke themselves to death, all you could do was pray that they’d quit. Which one of you has lost a child to accident, to suicide, or even to an estranged relationship?
Which one of you has experienced the alienation and isolation of being different? Of being the only one whose parents expect you to keep them informed of where you are and who you’re with. Which one of you has had the embarrassment of your parents insisting on meeting the parents of the kid whose house the party is at, or the embarrassment of your parents insisting on meeting the parents of the boy or girl you’re going out with?
Which one of you has been the brunt of jokes and teasing? Which one of you has been the bully, because you just can’t figure out how to be with people who are different than you.
Pain, and suffering, isolation and alienation, loneliness.... This is what Jesus experienced during that time from the hours in the garden when his friends fell asleep to the time he was nailed on that cross.
His friends abandoned him, betrayed him, and denied that they knew him, they also raised swords to protect him. Soldiers beat him, officials mocked him, and none understood him. He was nailed to a cross and left to die. Jesus’ story is our story.
And the Good News is that in the midst of this Mess, a mess sometimes of our making, often not of our making, is that God is with us, and God will create new life out of it. The Good news is that in the midst of this mess, we are transformed. We are not are same old self, it is in and through this relationship with Jesus that we are made different.
Which of you, as you look back on the pain and suffering of a loved one, is able to talk about God being with you, in the people that cared for you, in reconciliation of a relationship?
Which of you, as you look on the alienation and isolation of your middle school or high school years, is able to talk about the teacher, or the coach, or the friend, who reached out to you to pull you out of that isolation? Which of you, as you look back on your own recovery from addiction, is able to talk about the people who helped you through it?
God in our midst, Jesus Christ in the face of the other. Transformation, Resurrection. Oh, we’re not there yet, but we keep getting glimpses.
Our lives are neither neat nor easy. The path is never straight nor evident. In the midst of the struggle, in the midst of the pain, the suffering, the alienation, the isolation, we can hardly see our way clear, we can hardly see our own belly button. But that’s the point. When we stop gazing at our own belly button, and lift our head up to look the other in the eye, we begin to be the person in whom another may see Jesus. We begin to live our transformed lives as Easter people.
But I get ahead of myself again. I have a habit of doing that. Because in the midst of the Mess, comes something wonderful, and I can hardly wait.
The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: Come let us adore him. Amen
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