Friday, April 3, 2009

Today’s text

Mark 11:7-11

Then they took the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on its back, and he mounted it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others greenery which they had cut in the fields. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others greenery which they had cut in the fields. And those who went in front and those who followed were all shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is he who is coming in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of David our father! Hosanna in the highest heavens!' He entered Jerusalem and went into the Temple; and when he had surveyed it all, as it was late by now, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve.

Reflection

I want to linger here … and not go forward for a good while, for I know what comes next. A promising and happy entry into the city will not be well received by those whose control and privilege is threatened by you, Jesus.

Leaders who depend upon Roman largess for their comfort will not want an up-country prophet to blow into town and upset the tenuous order that allows them to live in anxious peace with occupiers from far away Rome.

They want things quiet so those legions don’t get twitchy and start sharpening their swords and swinging at things.

And your approach is politically dangerous, Jesus, regardless the humble donkey on which you ride and the peaceful greenery they wave at your entry into Jerusalem.

For the rabble crowd acclaims you son of David, a warrior king, who made the land safe from foreign occupiers, chasing out would be conquerors.

And it’s true: You come to upset the status quo. Anyone who comes in the Lord’s name is not utterly peaceful in intent.

To arrive in the Lord’s name means other lords get nervous. They begin talking to their troops about the necessity of breaking a few heads as a deterrent against forces that are a threat to the state, i.e. to them.

And you are a threat, Jesus. You are a threat to all the lords who pretend their power must be honored and their decisions must be followed. You are a threat to all the lords who rule the nations and our souls.

For you undermine the finality of their authority in the name of the One who is Lord and God. You reveal the way of the one Lord and call all others into question, insisting that we serve that One alone.

This is all quite upsetting, since we like some of the lords we serve instead of you. So we understand why your enemies opposed you and wanted to kill you.

But you remained true to the one Lord, whose rule is so different from those who muster swords to discourage or destroy perceived threats. You come humbly to bring the peace of God to the heart of our darkness that we may unlearn our anxious, warring ways.

So come, Lord Jesus. Let us see where you way leads. And though it leads to the cross, may we, as you, love the world, friend and enemy that your kingdom may come.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Today’s text

Mark 11:7-11

Then they took the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on its back, and he mounted it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others greenery which they had cut in the fields. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others greenery which they had cut in the fields. And those who went in front and those who followed were all shouting, 'Hosanna! Blessed is he who is coming in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of David our father! Hosanna in the highest heavens!' He entered Jerusalem and went into the Temple; and when he had surveyed it all, as it was late by now, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve.

Reflection

You come, Lord Jesus, arriving in Jerusalem in the Lord’s name, mounted on a donkey, and people wave branches, not swords or shields.

There are no signets of power or dominating force. You do not ride high, on a horse decked in armor, and the palm fronds and tree branches they wave are not clubs or weapons but emblems of praise and ecstatic welcome.

They throw their cloaks in the dirt path before you, their lowliness conferring great dignity upon you. But it is their words that most draw me, Jesus.

‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’

You come in the name of the most high holy mystery, the hidden wonder, the eternal God. That’s what they say, and you do nothing to deny it or dissuade them.

You just come, mounted on a beast of burden, while happy crowds wave signs of peace, hailing a new kind of kingdom (and king) and hoping that it just might be true. They have seen quite enough of the dominating and the kinds of kingdoms they bring.

But there is nothing of dominating force about you. Even the beast you ride can’t hurt a fly. You ride close to the ground, where people live and hope and die. And you come in the Lord’s name.

The Lord, the most high God, whom you represent, my Jesus, is apparently not interested lording over us, the small and dusty, who live close to the ground as we work out our little lives.

You come in peace, welcoming the joyous gestures of eager hearts who have learned that fullness of life and joy are not produced by the mighty and self-important. They are not brought by power or domination or great accomplishment.

They are the gift of the One who comes gently, humbly, revealing the divine heart of peace and seeking the peace of our hearts.

Blessed are you, Jesus. You come in the name of the Lord.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Today’s text

Mark 11:1-6

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, close by the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, 'Go to the village facing you, and as you enter it you will at once find a tethered colt that no one has yet ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone says to you, "What are you doing?" say, "The Master needs it and will send it back here at once." They went off and found a colt tethered near a door in the open street. As they untied it, some men standing there said, 'What are you doing, untying that colt?' They gave the answer Jesus had told them, and the men let them go.

Reflection

‘The master needs it.’

Sometimes you seem so large, Jesus. You speak and what you say is done. You make a request and soon receive what you ask.

You were always in possession of yourself, knowing what you wanted and what kind of statement you desired to make with each action. Even here, you make a command and your will is carried out. Your words open the door to your desire with simple immediacy.

Everything you have I seem to lack. I have little control over myself, and my emotions scurry about like scared chickens, running in every direction at once. Every direction, that is, but the one I most need at this and every moment.

I need my heart to stay on you with the same single-mindedness with which you sought to reveal the holy kingdom of God.

But what here do you invite us to know, other than your single-minded focus?

For no reason, I think of the colt, new, never ridden that will carry your weight into the city where people of no particular importance will welcome you with glad shouts.

I wish the beast had human consciousness to know that it carried the only human soul as gentle as first daylight, a soul through which flows the substance of God into this world.

Gentle beast, you carried the center of universe, the secret of eternity, the face of the Everlasting Mystery. But you know nothing; you just bear the weight of your burden without complaint or urgency, trudging slowly toward the city with the wonder of God on your back.

You knew nothing, but I am a little jealous. I would have loved to have felt Jesus’ weight leaning on me, his hand patting my back, urging me onward.

Sounds silly. But it’s true. Perhaps it is just a prayer to know and feel you near.

And I dare to believe that if I bear my load quietly and listen closely I just may be blessed to feel the weight of your presence.

Call it the hope of the beast.

Pr. David L. Miller