The
Beatitudes and the Politics of Peacemaking
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be
called children of God.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for
righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people revile you
and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my
account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the
same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Matthew 5:9-12 (NRSV)
How do you feel about the
passing of the peace during worship? We do it here sometimes – it’s that point
in the service where I ask you to share signs of peace with your neighbor, and
then we all square dance around the sanctuary saying, “Peace be with you.” Some
people make the rounds. Others shake a hand or two, get a little uncomfortable
and quickly sit down. I’ve known people for whom it’s an unconscionable
disruption. For those of you who like to come here, have some quiet space, and frankly,
not have to talk to others, the passing of the peace can drive you crazy, what
with all the people leaping over pews, joking and laughing, talking to each
other, and sharing germs, when we need to be sitting in our places.
On my grumpy days, I’m
probably one of those people. But I admit, sometimes we need to pass the peace.
It really doesn’t hurt anybody. Passing signs of peace is a symbolic reminder
of who we are and what we are about. We are a just peace church with a just
peace covenant, after all. One might think that making peace would start here,
among us.
Being a peacemaker can be
highly dangerous. It can also be quite costly. When Jesus said, “Blessed are
the peacemakers,” he was referring to persons who are ready to work for an end
to hostility. Sometimes, this verse is misread, however, so that the term
“peace lover” is read in the place of “peace maker.” The world is filled with
peace lovers, but there is a severe shortage of peace makers.
Sometimes, too, we get peace makers
confused with peace talkers. But just talking about it will not accomplish
anything. The world needs “peacemakers.” The real work of making peace, of
speaking for those who have no voice, of seeking to effect real reconciliation
between families or governments, comes at a tremendous price.
On Palm Sunday, I like to
think about the cost of peacemaking. On Palm Sunday, peacemaking begins with a
parade entering the city of Jerusalem, the City of Peace. People cheer as the
Ruler rides into the City majestically from the West. Who is leading this
parade? None other than Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, riding in an
impressive and lavish procession designed to astonish people with a visual
display of imperial power: cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, leather armor,
helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on
metal and gold.
Another parade begins at the
same time as Pilate’s. From the other side of Jerusalem, the City of Peace,
from the East, Jesus rides a borrowed donkey to the city gate from the Mount of
Olives. Jesus produces a fringe festival to Pilate’s pomp; a
counter-demonstration. Jesus and his parade goers might be able to hear the
procession in the West; the sounds of marching feet, beating of drums, creaking
of leather and cracking whips, which drown out all other sound from the markets
and streets. From the East, if we draw close enough, we might hear a small band
of marginalized citizens singing, “Hosanna! Save Us! Blessed is the one who
comes!” as they throw palms on the road and Jesus rides into town. It’s a
procession staged as satire.
All parades use symbols. The
Silver Spring Thanksgiving Parade has every civic organization in the county
marching down the street, complete with flags, scouts and soccer teams, dance
troupes, armored police enforcement trucks, and street venders overcharging for
balloons. When I lived in Western New York, the parades were all fire trucks
and farm equipment … and street venders overcharging for balloons — perfect for
a small agriculturally-based village. Pilate’s parade has banners, armor,
weapons, and gold eagles mounted on standards (no balloons) — perfect symbolism
for the power, authority, and wealth of the Roman Empire. He rides to make sure
that no trouble breaks out on this holiday when religious pilgrims swell the
city to remember the story of their liberation from another empire in Egypt. He
rides to remind rioters and revolutionaries that they dare not challenge or
defy the power of Rome.
In the East, a few people
stop, point, and ask, “Who is that?” And someone says, “It’s Jesus, whom they
call a prophet. He comes from up north in Nazareth in the region of Galilee.”
They shake some palm branches and throw them on the ground as Jesus rides to
suffer at the hands of the worst that Rome represents.
If you were there on the
streets of Jerusalem, which parade would you be drawn to?
Pilate’s parade is not
mentioned in any of the scriptures, but his spectacle likely forms the
background of Jesus’ Palm Sunday parade. Jesus’ parade makes more sense when we
know that Pilate had another parade going at the same time. Pilate’s parade has
huge appeal. It’s noisy. It’s big. It stands for all the things that citizens
value in society. It has power and strength, authority and riches. It’s a
brawny and dominant symbol of the Empire’s potency. Pilate’s parade offers
control. Leadership. Security. It leaves us with our mouths gaping wide. Jesus’
parade is clearly a caricature of Pilate’s parade. Jesus’ parade is laughable.
It’s ridiculous. I mean … a grand leader decked in gold on horseback versus a
peasant riding a borrowed donkey? Jesus’ parade wants to make us wake up, to
pay attention, to laugh at the Empire’s overreach, to think about who really oversees
the land of Israel and the nations of the world.
Much in my life draws me to
Pilate’s parade. Big and powerful things have allure. I want to be around
people who can make me feel influential. Many of us are drawn to that which
makes us feel important and admired in the hopes that it might rub off on us.
But something keeps calling me back to Jesus’ parade. The past couple of weeks
I have been puzzling over what it is. Why do I feel so anxious when Pilate’s
parade goes by? Pilate’s parade may attract us. It may inspire feelings of
importance and status. But there’s a cost. We must give up something to be in
Pilate’s parade.
There was a parade in Silver
Spring this week. Right down Colesville Road. Here’s what happened: those in
authority over the police in Montgomery County wrote a memo letting themselves
off the hook for shooting and killing Robert White last June. Mr. White was an
unarmed Black man, probably suffering the anxiety of a mental health crisis. He
became a suspect because he was wearing a ripped jacket, had his hands in his
pockets, and was trying to get away from an officer who was profiling him.
Instead of de-escalating the conflict, the officer did the opposite. His
aggressiveness inflamed Mr. White. It put him on the attack. That’s what got
him killed. Well … that, and a system that allows police to shoot unarmed Black
men and women with little, if any, legal consequence. An internal affairs
investigation said the officer was justified in the use of deadly force against
Robert White. We held a rally here at CCC last Sunday. Community members, and
public officials, and people of faith came here to pray, to ask for answers,
and to call our leaders to greater transparency and accountability. One word
that keeps getting kicked around is the term “justified.” The police say the
killing was justified. The community wants more justification, because the
police memo doesn’t really give a convincing reason. That word, justified, is
interesting. Delegate Wilkins of the MD State Assembly was here, and she talked
about how she learned in church that the word justified means, “just as if it
never happened.” That’s the effect of the police memo. It erases their
responsibility. They want us to believe that certain things didn’t happen. Just
forget about it. Let’s move on.
It’s the message of Pontius
Pilate’s Parade all over again. Pilate wants our strength, but only if we give
up our need. Pilate wants our obedient devotion, but only if we give up our
longing to understand our doubts. Pilate wants fear and admiration, but only if
we are willing to sacrifice our self-determination. Pilate’s parade offers us
status, but we have to be willing to march in time with Pilate’s relentless,
marching beat to earn it. We must become who Pilate wants us to be.
Think again about the word
“justification.” I think about the word justification as a right relationship.
It has to do with peacemaking. It means we are at peace in our relationships
with each other, and with God. Well, some in our community are not at peace
about the killing of Robert White. People are angry. You know what they did?
After the press conference, some people formed a parade. They marched from this
church to Mr. White’s neighborhood. They blocked Colesville Road and walked
down to Three Oaks, chanting, drumming, marching, and offering a symbolic
public display of what it means to resist when powerful people want us to
forget and move on. This was a Jesus parade. A Palm Sunday parade. Palm Sunday parades
invite us to find freedom by doing some of the most counter-intuitive actions,
like:
… giving up the
self-superiority that fools us into thinking we are better than others,
… giving up fear-driven
control tactics that make us grasp for counterfeit security,
… giving up the expectation
that God promises prosperity,
… giving up on hopelessness
that keeps us entombed in life’s shadows,
… giving up on acclaim that
tempts us to lulls us into pretentious pomposity.
We are helping host another
parade of sorts on April 29. We are mobilizing the community to show up at the
check in for Coach Fofo in Baltimore as he checks into his ICE appointment and
risks detainment and deportation. Our rally will be a chance to stand with a
pillar and leader of our community, and to stand against the despicable family
separation policies that the presidential administration is now doubling down
on. I’ve mentioned Fofo in the past and written emails about it. To learn more
of the back-story, check out our posts on our Webpage or on Facebook. There will
be more to come. If you want to help organize our turnout, please come tomorrow
night at 7 for deportation accompaniment training. Even if you can’t come on
April 29, we need help to turn out a mass demonstration on short notice.
Rallies, demonstrations,
marches … these parades … they are Jesus parades. They invite us to hold all
parts of our life together. The bliss and the sorrow. The promise and the pain.
Like Jesus, we join in a pageant that proclaims a power that comes from
following God, not pomp and privilege.
Can we do it? Can we ride with
Jesus to the Temple where he will topple the money changers’ tables? Can we
ride with him to ICE offices where voices of faith will join in the public
square to demand compassionate justice? Can we follow the steps of Jesus who
leads to examine and confront corruption, consumption, and consumerism? Can we
give up some comfort so that we can get back to our true humanity?
Here is Jesus, riding to on
Good Friday and the cross. In a world that avoids suffering and denies death,
here is Jesus riding on to embrace life’s pain. Can we give up and our fears
and ourselves to face pain and suffering?
There were two processions on
Palm Sunday. And the people had to decide in which one they would participate. It’s
a decision we all must make. Which world order will we help to bring forth: The
domination of empire that uses violence and coercion, or the steps of the
Peacemaker who leads us to wholeness? Those who take advantage of others to
maintain control and order, or the One who heals and blesses those who are
forgotten? Economic and political systems that benefit a few at the cost of the
masses, or a non-coercive, non-hierarchical public square where all each person
is responsible for shaping the common good? Can we help bring forth a world
that embraces each life, that values the power of community in relationship,
that trusts in the authority of love and the possibility of peace— the one
where we can be truly free. Which procession will we participate in?
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