Peace be with you. My name is Danny Bradfield. My pronouns are he/him/his, and I’m the pastor of Bixby Knolls Christian Church.
Today is Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week. It is the most significant week of the year for Christians. Traditionally, today is a day to focus our attention on Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, so let me say just a word about that.
In the ancient world, anytime a powerful leader arrived in a city like Jerusalem, there was a great procession. The leader arrived in a magnificent chariot pulled by the best warhorses, with a great entourage; and as many soldiers as could be rounded up lined the road leading into the city. The soldiers would raise their spears and swords in tribute as the great leader passed by.
It is said that on the day Jesus arrived in Jerusalem - over on the other side of town, Pilate or Herod also arrived, entering the city by another road; their procession would have been as I have described, with chariots and warhorses and soldiers and spears and swords.
It was all a show, of course. All propaganda. All part of the Roman cult that elevated Roman leaders to a god-like state, with the intention of making the people both proud and fearful of Roman might and power.
Jesus’ procession was a deliberate, intentional mockery of all this.
In Jesus’ procession, there were no chariots, no warhorses, no soldiers, no spears, no swords. Instead of a warhorse, Jesus rode a donkey - a symbol of humility and meekness instead of power. And the people lining the roads raised and waved palm branches instead of spears and swords. Symbols of peace, instead of war.
It was all meant to mock the priorities of Rome, and to make the point that everything Jesus represents is the exact opposite of everything Rome represents.
From there, we move into the events of holy week. Confrontations with the authorities. (Inevitable confrontations…) Plots of betrayal. The Last Supper. The impending arrest that Jesus knows is coming, but which the disciples can’t seem to accept.
It is at this moment of heightened suspense that the scripture we just heard takes place.
As readers and hearers of Mark’s story, we know that the plot to arrest and kill Jesus has already been put into place.
We know that Judas - one of Jesus’ disciples - has agreed to betray Jesus, and hand him over to the authorities.
We know what is coming - Jesus has told the disciples what is coming - but they are convinced that it can all still be avoided. Somehow.
After the Last Supper, Jesus and the disciples go out to the Garden of Gethsemane, and Jesus tells his disciples that he’s going off to pray. He takes Peter, James, and John with him - the three that he is closest to - and he confesses to them that he is deeply grieved.
He’s troubled. Frightened. Filled with anxiety and dread… as any human would be.
He needs his friends.
He needs their presence.
He doesn’t need them to say, “Don’t worry, Jesus; everything will be alright,” ...because everything will not be alright. Not this night.
He doesn’t need them to say, “Just be strong and have faith,” because Jesus is strong and does have faith - but that will not change what is about to happen.
He just needs them. Their presence. He needs to look into their eyes and see their love for him. He needs to know that they will be with him, no matter what.
Jesus throws himself on the ground and prays: “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.”
Then Jesus turns, and looks, and behold: Peter, James, and John have fallen asleep.
Jesus says to Peter: “Simon” - that’s Peter’s birth name, the name given to him by his mother and father - “Simon, are you asleep?! Could you not keep awake one hour? Please! I need you! Keep awake. Keep awake and pray - pray that you may not come into the time of trial…”
And Jesus turns and prays again; and then he turns back and sees that they have once again fallen asleep.
Jesus prays some more - and they are still sleeping.
Still sleeping when he needs them the most.
And already, before the cross is even in sight, Jesus feels abandoned.
We read this - we hear this story - and we think: Oh, those disciples! They of little faith!
We think: surely, if we had been there, we would have stayed awake! We wonder how anyone could sleep, with so much tension, so much anticipation, so much drama and suspense…
Maybe it was all the wine they had at dinner.
If I had been there - if you had been there - we would have stayed awake. Wouldn’t we? We would have kept our eyes open… we would have been the friends Jesus needed us to be… Right?
Less than two weeks ago, a young white man in Atlanta killed eight people - six of them Asian-Americans. It was recognized that these killings were motivated, at least in part, by race.
Racism is - and has always been - a huge problem in the United States. It is one of the greatest evils that exists. It is so pervasive, yet so life-denying, and so contrary to everything Jesus taught.
The Atlanta shooter was a Christian. He grew up going to church. So Sarah Pulliam Bailey - a journalist with the Washington Post - went and spoke with the shooter’s youth pastor, to see if she could find some clues as to what might have motivated such a horrific event, or what could have been done to prevent it.
She asked the shooter’s youth pastor about how often issues of race and racism were addressed in the church, in teaching and preaching. How often was racism labelled as “sin?” How often were church members encouraged to find ways to overcome racism in society and in their lives?
The youth pastor responded by saying: “I don’t recall any sermons dealing specifically with racism…”
I don’t recall any sermons dealing specifically with racism.
That church was asleep when it needed to be awake.
Jesus is present in the least of these. Jesus is present in the lives of those who, everyday, must deal with the fear, the horror, of racism. And Jesus needs us - the church - to stay awake, to keep our eyes open, to be aware of what’s going on, to be by his side and to have his back.
But too often, the church has shut its eyes. Too often, the church has fallen asleep.
This week, a lifeguard tower here in Long Beach was set on fire, and burned to the ground. It was the one lifeguard tower painted in rainbow colors, in honor of Long Beach’s LGBTQ community. The torching of the lifeguard tower was an apparent act of hate.
Jesus is present in the least of these. Jesus is present in the lives of those who, every day, must deal with the fear, the horror, of anti-LGBTQ hate. And Jesus needs us - the church - to stay awake, to keep our eyes open, to be aware of what’s going on, to be by his side and have his back.
But too often, the church has shut its eyes. Too often, the church has fallen asleep.
But Jesus needs us to stand with him, to stand against hate.
The disciples - Peter, James, and John - they couldn’t stay awake. And yeah, maybe it was because of the wine. Passover meals generally involve lots of wine. They may have been just a wee bit intoxicated.
And we are, too. We’re intoxicated. We’re more than a little drunk.
We’re intoxicated by white supremacy. We’re intoxicated by heteronormativity. We’re intoxicated by U.S. exceptionalism and colonialism. We're intoxicated by guns. We’re intoxicated by the economy, and the importance of the stock market.
And, increasingly, we’re being intoxicated by conspiracy theories being spread everywhere from Facebook to Fox News.
And when it comes to people who are suffering - the true “least of these” - we’ve fallen asleep. We’ve shut our eyes, and fallen asleep.
Which I guess explains the lack of compassion we as a society have for children at the border, or people on the streets, or families without healthcare. And I guess it explains why we tolerate allowing billionaires and megacorporations to pay little or no tax while services to the poor are slashed. And I guess it explains why we shut our eyes to the ongoing oppression of people of color, and the hate directed toward the LGBTQ community.
We’ve become intoxicated by the narrative of the dominant culture. We’ve become enthralled by the hoopla surrounding Herod’s entry into Jerusalem, and have yawned at the little procession occurring over on the other side of town where peasants are waving palm branches.
Last week, leaders of our denomination - the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) - issued a statement in response to the recent rise in anti-Asian violence.
“As members of the one body of Christ and the family of humanity, we join together to condemn the rise in overt anti-Asian violence in the United States. We join with our Asian American siblings to call for an immediate end to xenophobic and racist rhetoric, hate crimes and violence against Asian Americans. Thousands of incidents of racism against the Asian American community have been reported since the COVID-19 pandemic began, and many more have gone unreported. The intentional use of such nomenclature for the COVID-19 virus such as “the China virus”, has been perpetuated and promoted by leaders in the US with impunity. We denounce racist language against Black and brown communities, and we must insist that anti-Asian violence be called out and addressed as part of the systemic injustices laid bare in this time of global pandemic…
“In the context of such violence, the shooting at multiple spas in Georgia that resulted in the additional loss of Asian lives demands that we be vigilant in naming and eliminating the ongoing threats being faced by over 20 million Americans. Whenever one human being is diminished, we are all diminished. We cannot remain silent in the face of such violence and terrorism being visited upon our siblings…
“We say we are Disciples of Christ, a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world. We say we welcome all to the Lord’s table as God has welcomed us. We say we are an anti-racist, pro-reconciling church. We call each other as Disciples of Christ to do the work of being that church. Let us be the church we say we are.”
Friends: the church is starting to wake up. The church is starting to open its eyes. The church is starting to wean itself from its addiction to white supremacy and the powers of the dominant society.
But we still have a long way to go. Too many in the church are still asleep.
Let us not be among them.
Let us never hear Jesus say to us, “are you asleep?! Could you not keep awake?”
Let us keep our eyes open, and let us be the church Jesus needs us to be.