IN THE WINTER OF 1890, the members of the distinguished Valley Hunt Club in Pasadena, California, wanted to find a way to promote their city, which they called the "Mediterranean of the West." They invited their former East Coast neighbors to a mid-winter holiday, where they could watch games such as chariot races, jousting, foot races, polo and tug-of-war under the warm California sun. The abundance of fresh flowers, even in the midst of winter, prompted the club to add another event: a parade to precede the competition, where entrants would decorate their carriages with hundreds of blooms.
And that’s how the Rose Parade began.
According to the Tournament of Roses website, the festival expanded in the coming years to include “marching bands and motorized floats. The games on the town lot included ostrich races, bronco busting demonstrations and a race between a camel and an elephant (the elephant won).”
The camel and elephant race notwithstanding, the Rose Parade quickly became a premier, distinguished, high-class event. The 127th annual Rose Parade will take place next January 1 with the theme, “Find Your Adventure.”
IN THE WINTER OF 1978, in a quirky hole-in-the-wall place called Chromo’s Bar and Grill, an idea for a different sort of parade was born. Chromo’s was in a less-than-glamorous part of Pasadena. A scrawled message on the men’s restroom said, “Chromo’s has a way with God’s unwanted.”
It was there that Peter Apanel and a few others came up with the idea for what would be called the Doo Dah Parade.
Peter Apanel wrote “Whatever we did, it would have to be just the opposite of what the Rose Parade does. They have a theme so we would have no theme. They have judging and prizes, so we would have no judging and no prizes. Since none of us would be allowed in the Rose Parade, we would allow everyone in our parade.”
IN THE SPRING OF 30 – not 1930 or 1830; just 30 (give or take a year or two) – Jesus of Nazareth was the central figure in a parade leading into Jerusalem.
If you were to compare Jesus’s parade to the Rose Parade and the Doo Dah Parade, which parade do you think it would be most like?
There were other parades into Jerusalem. Herod made occasional visits to Jerusalem from his headquarters in Caesarea Philippi. Every time Herod arrived in Jerusalem, he arrived in a grand procession. He arrived on a mighty warhorse, surrounded by chariots. As he travelled, the road was lined with soldiers, who raised their spears and swords as he passed by. Only a grand procession like that was fit for royalty. I mean, isn’t that why Genie turned Abu from a monkey into an elephant? A royal figure should be accompanied by a mighty beast, not some lowly creature.
And yet, Jesus arrived on a donkey. A not-even-fully-grown donkey. A lowly creature, to be sure. The exact opposite of a mighty warhorse.
No chariots accompanied Jesus’s procession. Instead, he was followed by a crowd of common people: peasants, outcasts, and other lowlifes and misfits. Perhaps some of those unwanted, uninvited guests at the banquets he attended... They had a hard time seeing Herod’s parade over the shoulders of the soldiers lining the streets, but in Jesus’s parade, not only could they see; they could march right along with him.
There was no one to salute Jesus by holding high their spears and swords. Spears and swords would be inappropriate here, anyway. Instead, the crowd held high sticks and branches.
In every way, then, Jesus’s parade was an “anti-parade,” an “un-parade,” the exact opposite of Herod’s procession. It was the first century equivalent of the Doo Dah Parade.
All four gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – describe Jesus’s procession into Jerusalem. With minor variations, they all describe basically the same scene. Jesus arrives like a king, but he arrives like no king the world has ever seen.
The message this conveys is very much in line with the message that comes from our reading of the banquets Jesus attended. During the Sundays of Lent, we have read through a number of these stories – stories of banquets Jesus attended – as they appear in Luke’s gospel.
We know that banquets like these took place all the time in Roman society. They were a key feature of Roman life. Everyone participated in formal banquets on a regular basis.
We know that the structure of these banquets include a meal served to guests while they reclined around a u-shaped table in a room called a triclinium.
We know that after the meal, there would be a ceremonial mixing of wine in honor of Caesar and the gods of Rome.
And we know that, after this, there would be a symposium, a time of conversation.
Guests invited to these banquets were expected to offer something in return. It was all an elaborate social dance to build one’s reputation in society. You do for others so that they will do something for you in return.
But sometimes there appeared at these banquets an uninvited guest. This seemed to happen quite often. Jesus repeatedly surprised his hosts by welcoming the interruption, ministering to the uninvited guest, and then lecturing his host and the other guests about what it really means to show hospitality, and how hospitality is a true mark of the kingdom of God.
It became quite clear that the kingdom of God Jesus talked about was very different from the kingdom of Rome.
Which is why Jesus’s procession into Jerusalem was very different from the procession people were used to seeing, the procession of Herod and other royal officials.
Rome seemed to be unsure of whether or not Jesus posed a threat. He had no army, and didn’t seem to want one. And yet, if his ideas ignited something in the people, stirred up unrest… then he would have to be dealt with.
Jesus, for his part, saw his kingdom as an alternative to the kingdom of Rome. Of course he didn’t want an army. The way of violence was the way of Rome. His way was different.
How much did the people really understand about the kingdom Jesus described? … As Jesus came closer to Jerusalem, he wept over the city. It seemed to him that they didn’t understand enough. They would, in the end, choose the kingdom of Caesar just as they always had. They would choose violence over nonviolence. They would seek the place of importance, the higher seat, for themselves. They would others to serve them, rather than seeking to serve others. They would continue to draw lines, boundaries, between people, dividing people into “us” and “them.”
In other words, they would continue making the choices that would keep them from ever realizing true peace, true shalom, in their lives.
God’s kingdom is nonviolent. God’s kingdom emphasizes equality. This sounds great, but it’s really not that easy to accept. Even in scripture, we find attempts to water down or deny these aspects of God’s kingdom.
For example, Isaiah and Micah both describe the kingdom as a realm where swords are beaten into plowshares. But this is too radically nonviolent for the prophet Joel, who takes that phrase and turns it completely around. Joel writes that plowshares are beaten into swords. A kingdom of nonviolence was too much for Joel to accept.
Another example: the apostle Paul described God’s kingdom as a realm where distinctions and divisions are broken down. In the kingdom of God, there is neither woman nor man, and Paul gives instructions for how both men and women are to be teachers and leaders. However, later writers wrote that women should be silent – and they even wrote this using Paul’s name!
Same thing for slavery: Paul wrote to a man named Philemon, encouraging Philemon to give freedom to a slave named Onesimus; after all, in the kingdom of God, there is no distinction between slave and free. But again, later writers – writing in Paul’s name – instructed slaves to obey their masters. The equality of God’s kingdom was too much for them to accept.
God’s kingdom is radical, and people of faith – even writers of scripture – have found it hard to swallow whole.
Another example: two weeks ago I talked about the year of jubilee, when all debts were forgiven, all slaves set free, and all land returned to its original owner. This was commanded by the ancient words of the Torah, yet there is no evidence that it was ever actually put into practice. Later generations of prophets spoke out against the continuing injustice and inequality of society, something they wouldn’t have to do if the year of Jubilee were actually observed.
And then we have Zechariah’s vision of God’s kingdom, and the prophecy of the one who would inaugurate it. Zechariah wrote: “Look! Your king comes to you, triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey…”
Zechariah describes how this humble, nonviolent, donkey-riding king will replace the one who rides the war-horse, the one who uses a battle bow. (Zech. 9:9-10)
Jesus takes this radical, nonviolent identity on for himself, as the one who is everything that Herod and Caesar are not; because the kingdom of God is everything that the kingdoms of this world are not.
Yet even in the gospels, there are those who want Jesus to raise up an army and take power by force. And by the time we get to Revelation, there is Jesus, mighty, strong, powerful, and – yes – seated on a great war-horse. John of Patmos, who wrote the book of Revelation, just could not picture a humble, nonviolent, donkey-riding Jesus.
Now when we understand that Revelation is written in metaphorical language, we find there is still value in reading it. But let’s face it: that guy coming into Jerusalem, riding the donkey, is Steve Rogers, and who wants Steve Rogers as their superhero? Steve Rogers is the man who becomes Captain America in the Marvel comics. He’s a good man, but he’s also skinny, frail, and weak.
That’s not what we want for our savior. So we enhance him with the experimental serum into Captain America: strong, handsome, packed with muscle. That’s what the book of Revelation did. It was written a century after Jesus’s ministry, and it injects Jesus with the experimental serum, and takes the nonviolent revolutionary off his donkey, packs him with muscle, and sets him on the warhorse, from which he conquers his enemies by force.
The problem is, that’s a very different Jesus than the one we have in the gospels. It’s a less radical Jesus, a Jesus who fits in better with the kingdoms of this world and all that they value.
Where do we stand today? Which kingdom is in our hearts and in our minds?
Do we choose force and power, or peace and humility? Do we choose greatness for ourselves, or equality for all?
Are we intent on conquering our enemies, or loving them?
Is it about proving how good we are, or learning to see the goodness in others?
Which savior do we choose? The serum-enhanced super-Jesus on a mighty warhorse, flanked by spears and swords, symbolizing power and domination? Or the humble man who comes with no army, speaking of equality, riding a donkey, accompanied by everyday people waving sticks and branches?
No comments:
Post a Comment