Skip to main content

Would I Do?

Palm Sunday
Mark 11:1-11

One of my core memories is of a parishioner who said, "I don't think I would have been as brave as the three in the fiery furnace. I think I would have just bowed to the king. I would have bowed and known in my heart that I still loved God. I admire them, but I can tell the truth that I wouldn't have done it." (Daniel 3)

To me, this man's honesty was just as brave. In front of his fellow Christians, in front of his pastor, he owned up to his own facts: he did not believe he would have had the courage to resist the pressures of the king. He would have rather continued to live, being faithful in secret, than risk dying painfully and prematurely for open obedience to God. 

I can respect that kind of truth-telling. None of us want to be weighed in the balance and found wanting. For some of us, that's our greatest fear. The truth is, however, that I suspect most of us are not as brave as we think we are. The right side of history seems clear when we have a viewpoint from years into the future, but it can be harder to discern when we are in the middle of things and decisions have to be made. 

Speaking for myself, I want to believe I would have encouraged my spouse to side with Martin Luther and embrace scripture in the vernacular. I hope I would have been willing to stand with Quakers in the early colonial days, resisting the concept of chattel slavery among people who claimed to be pursuing their own freedom. 

Would I have walked with other suffragettes, trying to get votes for women? I hope I would have been there, mentioning how we needed to be sure women of color should be able to vote too. Would I have been part of a Resistance, hiding Jews in an attic or basement or in a barn? Would I have been willing to travel to register black Americans to vote? 

Or in any of these cases, would I have been more likely to seek safety, to argue for waiting or more time, would I have looked to my own oppressions, whatever they might have been, and just expected others to fight for themselves, while I criticized their actions? 

Holy Week, the days preceding Easter, brings up the same questions. Would I really have stayed with Jesus? 

I can imagine that if I'd been following him, I would have waved a branch as he rode a young donkey into Jerusalem. Who doesn't like a parade? And he's a good guy, doing kind things for all sorts of people. 

But what about when he upends the temple marketplace, yelling at vendors and causing chaos? Would I have been on his side then? Or would I have suggested that he should have been following the rules? 

How about when the chief priests and elders question him and he refuses to play their game? Would I have cheered him on? Or would I have said he should just cooperate and not make trouble? 

Would I have been horrified at his treatment by Pilate and the Roman guards or would I have sadly shaken my head, saying it never would have happened if he had just surrendered quietly and told them what they wanted to know. 

Would I have protected myself, like Peter, by denying any relationship with Jesus or would I have been with other women at the foot of the cross? Or maybe I would have just left town, wanting to stay out of any trouble. 

How can we know what we would have done at another time in history? 

One way is to look at what we do now in similar situations. 

What am I doing when I hear about oppression, injustice, or inequity? 
What am I doing when I hear of someone being unjustly accused? 
What am I doing in the face of intentionally divisive words and actions? 
What am I doing to counter false narratives and lies? 
What am I doing to discern and participate in the doing of God's will on earth as in heaven? 

Jesus befriended outcasts, restored folks to community, spoke boldly about the closeness of God, and brought hope to the poor, oppressed, and isolated. To follow him means to be willing to do those same things in my own time. 

All those realities, listed above, have happened in history, just as they are happening today. 

I can know what I would have done then by taking a hard look at what I am doing...
(or not),...
in the same situations,...
right now. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Religious Holidays in Anchorage

You may have read in the Anchorage Daily News about a new policy regarding certain religious holidays and the scheduling of school activities. If not, a link to the article is here . The new rules do not mean that school will be out on these new holiday inclusions, but that the Anchorage School District will avoid scheduling activities, like sporting events, on these days. The new list includes Passover, Rosh Hashanah , Yom Kippur , Eid al - Fitr and Eid al - Adha . They are added to a list which includes New Year's, Orthodox Christmas and Easter, Good Friday, Easter, Thanksgiving Day and Christmas. The new holidays may be unfamiliar to some: Passover is a Jewish celebration, in the springtime, that commemorates the events in Egypt that led up to the Exodus. The name of the holiday comes specifically from the fact that the angel of death "passed over" the houses of the Israelites during the plague which killed the eldest sons of the Egyptians. Passover is a holiday ...

Latibule

I like words and I recently discovered Save the Words , a website which allows you to adopt words that have faded from the English lexicon and are endanger of being dropped from the Oxford English Dictionary. When you adopt a word, you agree to use it in conversation and writing in an attempt to re-introduce said word back into regular usage. It is exactly as geeky as it sounds. And I love it. A latibule is a hiding place. Use it in a sentence, please. After my son goes to bed, I pull out the good chocolate from my latibule and have a "mommy moment". The perfect latibule was just behind the northwest corner of the barn, where one had a clear view during "Kick the Can". She tucked the movie stub into an old chocolate box, her latibule for sentimental souvenirs. I like the sound of latibule, though I think I would spend more time defining it and defending myself than actually using it. Come to think of it, I'm not really sure how often I use the ...