It's Good Friday in two days, the day we commemorate Jesus' death. At St Andrew's South Brisbane each year we have a series of meditations, and I'm responsible for one of them this year. This meditation brings together three
things.
The first is the chosen reading, from Matthew 26:46-68,
which includes Jesus’ arrest in the garden and his sham trial before the High
Priest Caiaphas.
The second is the framework for this year's series, “Jesus the real King”. In what sense is it possible to see Jesus as
a king when he is so obviously powerless?
The third is the religious thought of Leo Tolstoy. Later in his life, after he had written his great
novels, Tolstoy experienced a profound conversion. He came to understand that following Jesus
meant obeying his command to love our neighbours as ourselves, to do
to others what we want them to do to us.
If we take this seriously, he says, we will not try to kill one another
in war, we will not flog or imprison one another in the name of law and order,
we will not live in luxury while others struggle in poverty.
He was completely committed to non-violence, because he
believed a violent revolution would always end with a worse regime than the one
it replaced. He says it this way: “The
good cannot seize power, nor retain it; to do this men must love power, and
love of power is inconsistent with goodness.”
The result is this meditation on the kind of king Jesus
appears to be, and what that might mean for us.
What Kind of King?
Two kings
meet in the garden
In the dead
of night
One is there
in person with his friends
The other is
elsewhere, and has no friends
Instead he has
servants who send their servants
To do his
dirty work
What kind of
king
Has servants
who do his dirty work?
He is rich
and powerful
But he is
weak and fearful
What if his
servants turn on him in the palace courtyard
And cut him
down?
Or hang him
from his own cross?
Or worse,
ignore him completely?
What if his servants find another master?
So he bribes
them and placates them
Appeals to
their basest instincts
Or sends
still other servants
To frighten
them with the force of arms
Impress them
with the splendour of chariots and horses
Or drug them
with the mystery of false gods
Servants
abound but friends are few
And fears
multiply.
What kind of
king
Prays in a public
park with a few friends?
Keeps an
enemy by his side?
Challenges
his foes in the light of day
And meets
them in the dead of night?
What kind of
king tells his defenders
To sheath
their swords in the middle of battle?
He is a king
who has conquered fear
Who would
rather die himself
Than have
others die for him
Who knows
that death will not have the final say.
Two kings
meet in the courtroom
The servant
of one is the accuser of the other.
The accuser,
in his fine robes and long beard
Sits in the
seat of the priest of the King of Heaven
But he serves
the King of Earth
Every day he
sacrifices for him in the temple
Today he
will sacrifice a man.
What kind of
king
Sacrifices
the innocent to protect the guilty?
Pays liars
to conceal the truth?
Serves as
accuser, judge and executioner?
Many would
fear such a king
Few could
love him.
What kind of
king
Gives no
answer to his accusers?
Speaks truth
without fear when the time is right?
Answers
their lies, their abuse, their flying spittle
With a quiet
“you have said so”?
This is a
king none could fear but those who have fears to conceal
None could
hate but those for whom hate is a way of life
This is the
King of Love.
It’s easy to
serve the King of Fear
The King of
the Nations, the King of Darkness.
His servants
compel us
His wealth
bribes us
His
splendour dazzles us
Even the
gods are on his side.
How could we
resist?
Why would
we?
Obedience
will bring us peace
The peace of
Rome, which we buy
With the
blinding of our eyes
The stopping
of our ears
The binding
of our legs
The selling
of our souls
So that life
can go on as normal
“The trouble
with normal is it always gets worse”.*
Are we brave
enough to follow this other king?
To listen to
his voice, to do as he does?
Risking his
life daily in temple court
Receiving
his betrayer’s kiss with words of assent
Opposing clubs and swords with gentle words
Hearing
their lies, receiving their blows,
Refusing to
fall for the temptation
To match
power with power?
This will
not be normal
This will
not be safe
This will cost
us our lives.
But then we
will no longer have to lie to ourselves.
We will be
free from pretending war brings peace
Greed breeds
plenty
Oppression
protects freedom
Our blind
eyes will be opened
Our deaf
ears will be unstopped
Our
trembling legs will walk again
Our silent
tongues will shout for joy
Then we will
see things as they really are
Our death
will be swallowed in victory
And the
Kingdom of God will reign among us.
Let it be so
O Lord, let
it be so.
*I borrowed this line from Bruce Cockburn's song, 'The Trouble with Normal'.
Comments