Let This Cup Pass

Let this Cup Pass. Maundy Thursday

“And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.’”—Matthew 26:39.

Jesus, Romero, MLK, Bonhoeffer

 Romero (March 24), MLK (April 4), Bonhoffer (April 9)

Interestingly, Oscar Romero, Martin Luther King, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, three of the best-known 20th-century Christian martyrs, die close to Easter. Archbishop Romero is shot on March 24 at age 62 at the altar in El Salvador while celebrating the Eucharist after he speaks out against the reigning government’s brutality. Martin Luther King is shot on April 4 at age 39 in Memphis, where he went to support striking city sanitation workers. Bonhoeffer is hung on April 9, also at age 39, for participating in plans to assassinate Hitler. He is killed 23 days before the Nazi surrender.

Romero is shot while elevating the chalice at the end of the Eucharistic rite. When a death squad kills him, his blood spills over the altar and into the chalice’s contents.

All three men are icons for our Lenten and Holy Week journey, people speaking their truth that offends the ruling authority.

This is also what happens to Jesus. Jesus’ message offends the temple’s religious rulers, who then conspire with the Roman Empire’s authority to kill him. Jesus is not killed at age 33 by the Jews, but by the elite ruling Jewish religious leaders. They convince the Roman command that Jesus’ presence is an impediment to keeping the peace in occupied Palestine.

 Romero, MLK, and Bonhoeffer don’t begin the Lenten journey of their lives as the spokespersons for the truth. They are all three quiet, unassuming men. The Vatican approved Romero as bishop with the El Salvadoran government’s blessing because he seemed “quiet and safe.” Black leaders select King to lead the bus boycott because of his youth and because he is the newest and youngest black pastor at age 25 in Montgomery. Bonhoeffer is simply a deep-thinking Lutheran theologian.

But, in their journey, the three see the wrongs imposed by those in authority on those without power. They die to an old life of quietness, living in the darkness of conformity, and are resurrected to a new life of speaking out Christ’s truth in love.

Eventually, like Jesus, all three realize they will be killed for trying to change the injustices and absence of love in the world around them. Their writings all suggest that they, like Jesus, ask that this cup pass from them, but it doesn’t. So, with a price on their heads, they walk head-on into the turbulent storm.

We remember them today, as we remember the night the one they followed is also about to die. We pray for just a little of their courage and strength to speak out against the injustices in our world supported by authorities where we live, work, play, and worship.

We pray we will be empowered to do “the next right thing,” as Jesus taught Oscar, Martin, and Dietrich….. And this morning, we pray they will be mentors for the rest of us.

Joanna Seibert. joannaseibert.com. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Taking up your Cross

Take up Your Cross

“There is great pain and suffering in the world. But the pain hardest to bear is your own. Once you have taken up that cross, you will be able to see clearly the crosses that others have to bear, and you will be able to reveal to them their own ways to joy, peace, and freedom.”—Henri Nouwen in You Are the Beloved (Convergent Books 2017).

I have always wondered what Jesus means when he asks us “to take up our cross.” Is our cross the difficult co-worker or family member who keeps us awake at night trying to discern how to love and live with them? Is it a painful physical ailment that has now become chronic? Has a job become our cross? Maybe it is an addiction. Is it the cross of food or financial instability?

Nouwen believes our cross is often the inner pain we bear, and we keep pushing into our unconscious, which keeps bubbling back up, sometimes like an ugly dragon. The pain is produced by the parts of our personality we dislike, which we see and dislike in other people, instead of owning them ourselves.

The deep inner suffering may also live within us because of some trauma or pain inflicted by others whom we cannot forgive. They are still hurting us. We may have forgotten who the person is, particularly if it is a family member, but we still live with the pain.

Nouwen tells us that this inner pain is often even more challenging than all the suffering in the world.

As we meditate about Christ’s wounds this Holy Week, we can believe Christ within us can lead us to our own wounds and suffering. Connecting and feeling Christ’s wounds can connect us and bring us to awareness of the inner suffering that blocks our pathway to the God within us.

Nouwen believes that once we recognize and name our inner cross of pain, we will see the crosses others bear more clearly. 

I see this in our grief recovery groups. The participants realize the pain in others and begin to connect to them. Those who are suffering may know the depth of each other’s suffering best.

The miracle is that those who have experienced this inner pain are the ones who best heal each other.

 This is called resurrection. It happens in community.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Keep Your Eye on the Sparrow this Holy Week

 Keep Your Eye On the Sparrow this Holy Week

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So, do not be afraid: you are of more value than many sparrows." —Matthew 10:29-31.

On June 7, 2017, in the issue of The Christian Century: Thinking Critically, Living Faithfully, Liddy Barlow, executive minister of Christian Associates of Southwest Pennsylvania, was the guest preacher writing about the sparrow text from Matthew. She talks about the lawyer Kenneth Feinberg, who chaired the September 11 Victim Compensation Fund, giving money to the families of those who died in the terrorist attack using a formula based on each victim's income and earning potential. The compensation ranged from $250,000 to $7.1 million. Feinberg struggles with this differentiation at the end of the experience, as he listens to the stories of the victims and their families and wonders if one person is twenty-eight times more valuable than another.

Barlow also reminds us of the Civilla Martin poem, "His Eye Is On The Sparrow," which became a Gospel hymn bringing comfort to the African-American Church in our past century. I will never forget hearing Kathleen Battle sing this hymn, a Cappella, in a concert with the National Symphony at the Kennedy Center. We were in the first-row center, and she was in front of us, a foot away, in this striking dark red-wine velvet dress. Her soul was singing from somewhere deep inside of her.

This, indeed, is a Scripture passage and a hymn about how valuable each of us is to God. People often come for spiritual direction when they do not feel valued by God. So when we talk, I wish I could sing this song like Kathleen Battle and tell them their worth.

Barlow concludes her message by telling us that Feinberg was again consulted in 2007 by the president of Virginia Tech about distributing the compensation to the families of those killed in that mass shooting. His 9/11 experience has changed Feinberg. He now believes in the equality of all life. Therefore, he recommends that all victims, students, and faculty receive the same compensation.

This is the story of how the God of our understanding works tirelessly to teach us the value of our neighbor. Our God desperately loves and values each and every one of us.

 Every morning, I am reminded of this as I watch the white-crowned house sparrows come to the feeder outside my window above my desk.

When fear filled my heart during this pandemic, the sparrows outside my window comforted me. I still hear Kathleen Battle singing "His Eye Is On The Sparrow/And I Know He's Watching Over You and Me." 

I often sing this hymn many times during the day, especially during Holy Week. These are seven special days to remember the depth of God's love for each of us. 

Joanna. joannaseibert.com. https://www.joannaseibert.com/