“The crowd chose, Pilate pronounced sentence and the church finished the job. Despite confessing a Gospel of love the church writ large has sided with the powerful over the oppressed; the rich over the poor. What will we choose?”

Sermon by Mike Kinman at All Saints Church, Pasadena, on Palm Sunday, April 14, 2019. Reading: Luke 19:28-40.

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¿Que pasó?
¿Que hemos hecho?

What just happened?
What have we done?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

We were going to change the world.

We sang.
We marched.
We believed.

We believed in this Jesus.
We believed in Jesus’ love.
We believed this love had the power to change the world.
To change a world that uses a different kind of power.

The power of oppression.
…of despair.
… of fear

We believed that this love could set us all free from that power.

And yet we knew the truth of Frederick Douglas that “power concedes nothing without demand.”

We knew the truth of Monica Coleman that “salvation is the insurrectionary and revolutionary process of challenging the status quo and demanding equality and inclusion.”

Power concedes nothing without demand.
Salvation is an insurrectionary and revolutionary process.

It is not enough just to love.
We must love in a way that demands the end to all that does not love.
We must love in a way that demands the powers that oppress stand down.
If our love is to save us, our love must be insurrectionary and revolutionary.

And so, we sang.
We marched.
We marched right into the center of power.
Singing our song of joy.
Singing our song of justice.
Singing our song of love.

And the power that sat on the throne… was not pleased.
The power that sat on the throne was afraid.

Afraid because the religious leaders, Herod, Pilate – they all saw that this Jesus, that this love, and that we who marched in its power were more powerful than the oppression.
…the despair.
…the fear

That this insurrection, this revolution demanding equality and inclusion just might work.

And if it did … they were finished.
…their power was gone.
…their supremacy was over.

You want to talk about Game of Thrones … this is it!

Jesus stood before Pilate and Herod.
Power against power.
Equity against privilege.
Liberation against oppression.
Hope against despair.
Love against fear.

Jesus stood silent before Pilate and Herod
Power against power.
And Pilate and Herod turned to the crowd and said:

“Escoger.”
“Choose.”

And then there was a moment.
A moment where we had to choose:

The security of our chains or the uncertainty of freedom.

Choose.
Equity or privilege.
Liberation or oppression.

Choose.
Hope or despair.
Love or fear.

Pilate wanted to strip Jesus of their power.

Their power to transform.
…to overthrow.
…to lead a revolution of love.

Pilate wanted to strip Jesus of their power. Because Jesus’ power meant the end of Empire’s supremacy.

Pilate wanted to strip Jesus of their power … and so he turned to the crowd and said

“Choose.”

And then there was a moment.
The briefest moment of silence before we said with one voice to the rulers of the age of this Jesus we had followed.

Crucificarlos.
Crucificarlos.

Crucify them.
Crucify them.

And Pilate said: “Are you sure?”

Crucificarlos.
Crucify them.

And so, Pilate pronounced the sentence.
We were there
We saw it.
We were a part of it.

The sentence was pronounced on the city hall steps…
…but the crucifixion happened in the church.

The crowd chose.
Pilate pronounced the sentence
… the church has finished the job.

So it was.
So it has been.
So it remains today.

The unholy alliance between Church and Empire,
between Church and conscienceless capitalism,
Church and colonialism,
Church and patriarchy, white supremacy and heteronormativity.

The unholy alliance of religious authorities, Herod, Pilate and crowd that chose oppression over liberation, that chose fear over love continues to this day.

Make no mistake, there have been great moments in the history of our faith.
Moments where courage has been greater than fear.
Moments where love has launched salvific, insurrectionary, revolutionary challenges to the status quo and achieved small steps and great leaps toward equality and inclusion.

And … despite professing a Gospel of revolutionary love, most often the weight of the institution that claims to follow the crucified incarnation of that love has sided with the strong and the powerful against the weak and the oppressed.

Professing a belief that Christ lives in the indecent and the disrespectable, in the poor and prisoner among us, nevertheless, the church has sided with the powerful to preserve our respectability and supremacy.

Professing a belief that the widow’s mite is greater than the king’s ransom, nevertheless, the church has acted to preserve and expand our wealth.

Professing a belief that truth hangs alone on the cross and not in the comfort of the crowd, nevertheless, the church has measured our success not by how courageously we have loved but by those ABC’s of empire – attendance, buildings and cash.

The rise of Nazism. Islamaphobia. The Klan.

The kidnapping and torture of black bodies.
Colonialism and native genocide.

The lethal ostracization of millions of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and queer images of God.

The rejection of the leadership and gifts of women and the subjugation of women’s bodies to the whims, desires and opinions of men.

The destruction of the very planet and climate that give us life.

The church writ large has supported every single one of these. The voices in the church that have been on the side of love and justice against the forces of empire have been powerful … and have always been the courageous exception.

The crowd chose.
Pilate pronounced the sentence
Crucify them.
Crucify them.

The crowd chose.
Pilate pronounced the sentence
… the church continues to finish the job.

What just happened?
What have we done?
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

James Cone, in his transformational work of black liberation theology, The Cross and the Lynching Tree, writes “the cross can heal and hurt; it can be empowering and liberating but also enslaving and oppressive…. Unfortunately, during the course of 2,000 years of Christian history, this symbol of salvation has been detached from any reference to the ongoing suffering and oppression of human beings whom Ignacio Ellacuria, the Salvadoran martyr, called ‘the crucified peoples of history.’”

The cross is not where we send others. The cross is where Jesus shows us where we belong. Not through some abusive theology of vengeance exacting retribution for sin, but because love always belongs with and as those that Empire crucifies every day. Hanging with the crucified. Hanging as the crucified until the hearts of those who pronounce sentence are so transformed by the power of love that they cease their shouting forever.

Pilate wants to strip Jesus of their power.

Jesus’ power to transform.
…to overthrow.
…to lead a revolution of love.

Pilate always wants to strip Jesus of their power. Because Jesus’ power means the end of Empire’s supremacy.
Pilate still wants to strip Jesus of their power … and so he turns to us and says:

“Choose.”

This week. This holiest of weeks … is that moment.
That briefest moment of quiet before we answer.
In the stillness of the quiet, we are left to wonder what our redemption song might be.
In the stillness of the quiet, we are left to wonder how we might become insurrectionists and revolutionaries for love.

How the church might be, as Oscar Romero said, “a humanizer of every legitimate struggle to achieve a more just society … that prepares the way for the true reign of God in history.”

Pilate still wants to strip Jesus of their power … and so he turns to us and says: “Choose.”

This week is that briefest moment of quiet before we answer.

And “in the stillness of the quiet,” Howard Thurman writes. “In the stillness of the quiet if we listen, we can hear the whisper of the heart giving strength to weakness, courage to fear, hope to despair.”

In the stillness of the quiet, we can hear the whisper of the heart say:

“No tiene que ser así.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way.

Pilate still wants to strip Jesus of their power.
The power we hold in our hands and on our hearts.
Jesus’ power to transform.
…to overthrow.
…to lead a revolution of love.

Pilate still wants to strip Jesus of their power
Pilate always wants to strip Jesus of their power

… and so he turns to us and says:

“Choose.”