When Jesus Visits

Nov 24, 2015

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/112615-weekday.cfm

When my children were little I watched them operate in daily patterns of doing their best, getting dressed, helping to set the table, holding hands for prayers, doing their homework, and saying “Thank you.” At strange times, though, they struggled with obedience, became enraged over the slightest infringements, and cried with desperation because their hearts were broken over having to share something which they really cared nothing about.

Their apologies came quicker and quicker over time, until I could see them stop themselves before the disobedience would take hold, halt their rage and take a breath, and lower their eyes as they shared a bit of candy, a doll’s dress, or a game. They didn’t just do it to please their parents, but because the peace that would result was worth more than their anger and pride. They were learning to be martyrs. Learning to set aside self satisfaction, their royal superiority, and add to the harmony of the space where they lived.

Jesus wept over entering Jerusalem, and he said, “If this day you only knew what makes for peace.” He said the way to get peace is to recognize Jesus. If the Jewish people had only recognized him, then accepted his humble, yet certain kingship of the universe, then peace would have reigned. Jesus says that peace is only possible when we embrace the presence of the Son, the One in whom the Father was pleased, because Jesus has fulfilled all prophesies, showed up on time, in charge, and not only eager, but he weeps for those who don’t know who he is.

The parade heralding Jesus into Jerusalem took place for many reasons, but for us, it is a metaphor of the divine reality of God becoming man for us. Here I am, he said. He showed us a live of obedience, how to love, and how to give. His ride into Jerusalem tells us the he also comes riding into our lives. It is a nonstop arrival, a consistent loving “Hello, I’m home!” Jesus brings peace to those of us who recognize his coming, us crying out Hosanna, us tearfully, wonderfully gracious, that he has chosen to visit our lives. Jesus stands alone in bringing about peace. There is no other way to get it.

Or we don’t believe that, and we get what Jesus proclaimed as the result of not recognizing him.

According to Jesus anything short of accepting his visit to our hearts, or homes, our cities, our nation, even our world, is going to result in a cataclysmic demolition derby. No Jesus, no peace. We choose for him to be in charge, or we head over to the big demolition derby arena with amazing marketing and fancy lights, and pay a half a day’s wage to get in. We sit in the stands and watch professional warriors crash each other into oblivion. We either call out to Jesus to take the wheel, or we become demolition professionals ourselves, strengthen our vehicles to both withstand attack and also to administer a vicious end to our competition. The winners jump out of their vehicles to our great applause, or our angry disgust. We go home, wondering who’ll win the next contest, whether our driver has won or lost, whether we have won or lost. The battles never end, because the thing is the battle. The war is never over. Peace is a continual imaginary existence beyond the horizon. We don’t see it, so it’s not possible. Jesus isn’t real. He’s a weirdo on a donkey.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could recognize the time when Jesus visits us, skip the demolition derby, and see beyond the donkey? And instead of heading for the big, shiny tent, shouting for the defeat of our enemies, we hail Jesus as the king, the Lord of all creation. We are struck by the reality of his divine existence, and we step away from the maddening crowd.

Jesus said that great calamity, our families overwhelmed by our enemies, and the destruction of cities to the point of flattening, is, “because you did not recognize the time of your visitation.” That’s where Jesus has visited us. We get disaster when we ignore him. When we don’t pay attention when he shows up (shows up announced, I might add), peace does not come to us. When is he visiting us? He tells us that he’s coming to see us every day.

So the answer to turmoil is Jesus? Can that be true? Can we turn the tide on terrorism, flagrant evil, and blatant killing by calling on Jesus to be with us?

Micah is a terrific book of the Old Testament for our time. He wrote his inspired portion of the scripture sometime between 742 to 687 BC. This was a time of idolatry among the Jewish people. They succumbed to pressures to worship pagan Gods. Micah tells tales of many who refused to abandon the Jewish law and put their one true God aside. These people were mothers and blue collar workers and preachers. They denied fealty to a pagan god. Micah introduces us to martyrdom.

How do we get martyrs? False prophets. False prophets who use religious messages, claiming that the Lord God is leading them. Yet, rather than praise God who brings peace, they deceive and oppress the folks they claim to lead, offering them death if they stray off the straight and narrow.

The clue to the deception of the false prophet is their insistence on worshipping something that has no real power, other than to incite fear, cause worry, and get folks to tattle on each other. False prophets, though, seem to ask for the same thing that Jesus asks. Worship me, or you’ll get calamity. They’re clever that way, saying the same things as Jesus, but they don’t arrive on a donkey. They arrive in suits, in stadiums, and limousines – or in pickups with guns, chests wrapped with bombs.

What has this discussion to do with the small faith community of a few old men living in Woodland Park?

Our world is no longer confined to the woods surrounding Woodland Park. We get the entire world laid out before us, every minute of the day. We hear about men and women who kill in order to get to heaven. They are deceived into thinking that by taking their own life they will have a promise of life with God forever. The deception is that they gain holiness by killing people – themselves and as many others as possible. Killing in order to be killed gets them heaven. In our wooded surroundings, the idea of a God rewarding blood thirsty terrorists is a truly a remarkable idea, and so strange as to be ridiculous. But martyrdom is at its heart.

Micah says refusing to deny the God of Peace may likely get you killed, but you will receive the promise of heaven. This makes sense to altruistic people. We have friends who’ve gone to war to protect the innocent. We have friends who race into fires to rescue horses and homes made out of firewood. They could die, but they do it. We have friends who went to 4, 8, or 12 extra years of schooling to help people. Why do that do it? It’s a little like martyrdom. More like a martyr marathon. A lifetime of selfless abandonment. Most do it because Jesus inspired them. Some do it for money, fame, power, or to be cool. But rare is the a motivation of martyrdom through killing people.

In essence, both the terrorist and the follower of Jesus follow a formula that promises an end of this life for a reward of heaven. Which one is right? Whether dying quickly or slowly by our own choice, what is our motivation? What kind of death does God reward? Which group of martyrs takes the right path?

We would do well to practice like children the art of little acts of martyrdom, building up our courage, our readiness for God’s visitation. Not manipulated into blowing ourselves up, but disciplined to be ready when Jesus visits us. We can practice every minute of our lives, not just welcoming Jesus, but hollering hello, waving across the parking lot to our friends where Jesus also is visiting, and exclaim that peace is here, amid the violence of the insane and the deceived.

We practice recognizing the divine presence everywhere, because the peace of God lives in us, and peace is worth giving up our lives, giving them to Jesus.