From the Daily Lectionary for Monday in the Eighth Week after Pentecost
Matthew 27:24-31
So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Then the people as a whole answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” So he released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.
Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
I listened to an interview of John Lewis by Christa Tippet this past weekend. The interview took place in 2013. Lewis was talking about the “spiritual work” he and his fellow freedom riders did in preparation for the civil rights work ahead of them. He and his colleges met every Tuesday night for two years in a professor’s kitchen at Fisk University in Nashville to study the art of non-violent resistance. They read works by Thoreau, Rousseau, Plato, and others. He said they prayed a lot. They learned that it was most important to look their oppressors in the eye, on the streets, at the lunch counter. He said that to look the “other” in the eye was a statement of their personhood. Eye contact was a way to proclaim, “I am a human being.”
In hearing his thoughtful words said in gracious humility, I thought of our readings in Matthew’s account of the passion; that Jesus before the Roman and Jewish authorities was practicing the same art, resisting oppression, looking his captors in the eye, with no thought of retaliation. Representing all the victims of corrupt power, he was standing for their dignity, the dignity of all the shamed. As I have said before, crucifixion was as much about shame as it was about execution. It is shame, not death, which is at the heart of the passion narrative. Matthew is holding up for all to see the contrast between Love and power. This passage is a case in point. Jesus is mocked, struck, and spat upon… demeaned in public. Moreover, Matthew gives an apt description as to how power operates and manipulates. It never takes responsibility for its insidious action. Pilate washes his hands before the crowd to demonstrate his innocence, blaming the Jewish authorities and the frenzied crowd for Jesus’ fate. But clearly, Pilate is not innocent. He has the power to absolve or condemn. This entire scene is what René Girard refers to as scapegoating… a transference of the sins of the powerful onto the less powerful innocent. This is the way of empire, of self-interested power, and it is unsustainable as a means of ordering our common life. Violence begets violence; shame begets shame. It’s why all empires fail and fall.
We see the pattern in our own day and age. Peaceful protesters, non-violent resistors, are being called thugs and anarchists by the powers that be. Government para-military troops are fomenting violence in the midst of peaceful assembly of its own citizens. The irony is poignant. These protesters have for generations suffered the abuse, the institutional violence, and scapegoating of the post-modern “empire.” They are simply demanding justice and the rightful dignity that comes with it. And with very few exceptions their protests and resistance have over the decades been non-violent.
Another irony is that, for things to change, it will require the engaged action of the powerful among us, those who have the privilege of influence, to set matters right. We have “spiritual work” before us, brothers and sisters. Empathy for the cause is just a beginning. It is our Christian vocation to work for justice for the ones who have languished without it for so long now. We dare not let this opportunity pass us by. The time to act is now, in thought, word, and deed. The very life of our democracy is at stake, but more than that, so is the very spirituality of our common life, our service to the good and the true, our obedience to the call of Love. Unlike the powers and principalities of our world, Love is responsible, and Love is responsive. Give yourselves to it. It is our only hope.
A Prayer for Congress (BCP p. 821)
O God, fountain of wisdom, whose will is good and gracious, and whose law is truth: We beseech you so to guide and bless our Senators and Representatives in Congress assembled, that they may enact such laws as shall please you, to the glory of your name and the welfare of this people; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.
