Killing Jesus
Sometimes, I forget that Jesus was killed.
Crucified? Of course. Resurrected? Well, I hope so!
The cross is burned into my mind. It’s tattooed on my skin. It hangs around my neck. “Jesus was crucified and resurrected on the third day.” Case closed. It is finished…
But Jesus was also killed.
Jesus was killed by his friends and community.
Jesus was killed because his kingdom-talk and you’ve-heard-this-but-I-tell-you-that threatened centuries-old politics and religious systems.
Jesus was killed because a group of people who loved God—who knew God—believed, with every fiber of their being, that killing Jesus was what God wanted them to do. So they stripped him, mocked him, and killed him.
In God's Name
How scary is that? That we could believe that we were following God but instead discount the very person, action, and thing that God was trying to speak through?
But don’t we already do that?
We do a lot of killing in God’s name.
We kill community when there is difference. We kill unity when togetherness feels too hard. We kill truth when the news is entertaining. We kill children when they don't fit into our boxes. We kill love when it goes outside of our norm. We kill relationships instead of being vulnerable. We kill mercy in the name of power.
We kill Jesus because God tells us to...
We get it wrong. And so many times, “we” means the privileged, religious majority. In Jesus’s day, this meant the Pharisees and Sadducees. Right now, it means—usually—white, American Christian nationalists—or, as Martin Luther King Jr. might say, the white moderate (which, speaking of MLK, let's not forget another vessel of God who was killed in the name of God).
God did not ask those Roman soldiers or that Jewish crowd to kill Jesus. Evil did. Power did. Love couldn’t bear it.
A Nation on Sand
I’ve stayed off the internet for much of the past few weeks (my Lenten goal!). Politics are draining. Social media is messy. And selfishly, I wanted no part of it. I didn’t want to write. I didn’t want to post. I just felt tired.
And honestly, it was good for me. For a moment:) On the occasional day, though, when I'd get back to the real world, which ironically meant getting back online, I'd see posts by angry politicians, videos of President Zelensky, hotlines for LGBTQ+ children, and a list of executive orders that threatens some of my closest friends.
But in this mess, I was also reminded of the inauguration homily that Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde delivered all those weeks ago.
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I have no idea how Budde scored her spot in that service, but I do know that her words were powerful, and they certainly lit a flame of hope in our dreary divisiveness.
In her sermon directed mainly toward our president but more broadly to the United States, Budde urgently called for unity, which requires, in her words, 1) honoring the inherent dignity of each person, 2) being honest, and 3) practicing humility. For unity to thrive, Budde said that we must stand firm, “refusing to mock or discount or demonize those with whom we differ.”
In her sermon, she pleaded for the United States and its leaders to have mercy. Mercy on LGBTQ+ children within Democrat, Republican, and Independent families… Mercy on undocumented people, who work, raise families, pay taxes, and care deeply for the United States… Mercy because “without unity, we are building our nation’s house on sand."
After the service, President Trump tweeted that the “so-called Bishop” Mariann Budde was “a Radical Left hard line Trump hater.” He called her “boring,” “uninspiring.” “inappropriate,” “not compelling or smart,” and “not very good at her job!”
Revered Benjamin Cremer responded: “If your Christianity causes you to be offended by someone asking the most powerful person in the country to be merciful towards the powerless, then you have profoundly misunderstood the teachings of Jesus.”
The Promise of Abundance
The words of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde and Revered Benjamin Cremer continue to weigh heavily on my heart. And then, a month later, adding to my pile of conviction, my pastor preached on Luke 4:1-13—the story of Satan tempting Jesus in the wilderness. Over and over in this story, Satan offers Jesus more: more bread, more authority, more healing.
But over and over, Jesus says no. Jesus says no because he understands something that many of us do not: an abundance of resources, power, and healing does not come from God. It comes from the idea that we do not need God.
God does not give us more than we could want. God gives us everything we need: love, refuge, strength, comfort, joy. And when we lose sight of God’s gifts, we quickly fall into the temptation of others—a temptation that is not authentic to God.
America, "the devil" is not a citizen of the United States, but we are certainly being tempted. Hate, power, corruption, bigotry, and killing Jesus call to us, and it's important, now more than ever, to say no. We must be kind. We must be loving and merciful. We must search for God’s voice. And in this, I encourage us all…
Do not lose hope. The ministry of Jesus has always existed under temptation… and yet, it has survived.
We are all, in some ways, tempted by more. I am. Our leaders are. You are. But we must not fall into temptation. Material wealth, power, and worldly protection do not come from God. The only abundance God offers is abundant life.
Be wary of the “voices of God”—and of discounting the voices that society demonizes. Sometimes—most of the time—we get it wrong. We kill unity.
In this season of Lent, on this Holy Week, and on this Good Friday... let us remember the stories of empire, love, mercy, and justice.
Let’s see how we are the crowd. Let’s see how we are the soldiers. Let’s see how we kill Jesus. And when we know better, let’s do better until the whole world can see Jesus in us.
Easter is coming. May unity and risen Love come with it.
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“The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”
— Leviticus 19:34
"Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity!"
—Psalm 133:1
“Thus says the Lord of hosts: Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another; do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another”
—Zechariah 7:9-10
“You have heard that it was said, ‘you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy’. But I say to you, love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you.”
—Matthew 5:43-44
“‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"
—Matthew 25:45
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