From the Daily Lectionary for Monday in the Third Week of Advent
Luke 22:39-53
He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him. When he reached the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.”
While he was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; but Jesus said to him, “Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?” When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, “Lord, should we strike with the sword?” Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, “No more of this!” And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple police, and the elders who had come for him, “Have you come out with swords and clubs as if I were a bandit? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness!”
The adult Sunday school class of All Saints is now reading Across that Bridge by recently deceased civil rights icon John Lewis. It is a first-hand account of the challenges that faced Black Americans in their quest to dismantle apartheid in The United States. It is testimony to the faith, the patience, and the resilience of the civil rights leadership. Most particularly it is testimony to the transformative power of non-violent resistance; the power of human commitment and energy to change the world; to call the world to its true nature.
It seems odd that in the Daily Lectionary, here in Advent, we are reading from Luke’s passion narrative, about the arrest, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus. But even in Advent, a season of hope and expectation, we are reminded of the pressing darkness upon our world. Such is the paradox of human existence, even more poignant at this time of year.
So, two points I want to make about this reading from Luke: First, the darkness Jesus and his disciples face is not some abstract smoldering depression or ennui, so symptomatic of the post-modern first world. The Darkness Jesus faces is the present and profound danger of imperial power. He has come face to face with that which really is our problem… and that is the violence and indignity of corrupt power; power that coerces betrayal among friends; power that would subvert our very human nature; power that will disenfranchise and dehumanize the least powerful of our world, as if the least powerful were somehow less than human. So, point one is that the darkness has a name… and its name is power.
The second point, consistent in all four Gospels, has to do with the means by which Jesus confronts this power. I would submit to you that it is by organized non-violence; not passivity, but active, intentional resistance by being present, proximate to those by whom such power is wielded.
All four Gospels describe Jesus before the authorities as mute, detached… “like a sheep before slaughter.” But this isn’t about Jesus being humble, smugly stoic, or otherworldly. This is nonviolent protest against the very heart of evil. We know according to history the power of nonviolent resistance: independence for India from British rule, the civil rights reform of the 1960’s, the fall of apartheid in South Africa.
We have so “spiritualized,” made sentimental, the narratives of Jesus’ sacrifice, his life and ministry. The Gospels in their rhetorical force intend to move us to similar action. We are to stand against coercive, institutional power by means of non-violent presence. And I’m saying, ironically enough, that that is our true spiritual practice. Our faith calls us to be proximate to the fractures of the human community caused by self-interested power. The Gospels are not written for our comfort. They are written for our learning, and I suspect, this learning may be of good use in the not so distant future. So take to heart, good people, Luke’s words, and keep awake, and pray that we do not come into the time of trial. But even so, let’s be prepared.
A Prayer for Guidance (BCP p. 832)
O God, by whom the meek are guided in judgement, and light rises up in darkness for the faithful: Grant us in all our doubts and uncertainties, the grace to ask what you would have us do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices, and that in your light we may see light, and in your straight path we may not stumble; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.
