St. Paul’s United Church Palm/Passion Sunday, April 9,
2006
The Show Trial – Rev. David Mundy
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We were all
probably jolted when we first saw or read the news item that a Christian in
Afghanistan, a forty-one year-old man by the name of Abdul Rahman,
was on trial for his faith and if convicted faced the death penalty. You might
not be aware of the details but Rahman grew up as a
Muslim but while working for a Christian aid organization, chose Christianity
as his faith and way of life. Ninety nine percent of Afghans are Muslim and
only a tiny group are Christians.
Apparently
Abdul Rahman was arrested when he approached the
police on a different matter and they noticed he was carrying a bible. Under Sharia law, or Islamic law he was then charged with what we
might term blasphemy, with a sentence, if convicted of death. Some were calling
this a “show trial,” a term used for a case where the verdict is “in” before
the trial begins.
All four of
the nations with significant troop presence in Afghanistan – the US, Canada,
Germany, and Italy – vigorously protested this prosecution. The trial launched
many commentaries on the subject of religious freedom and some asked what we
are doing in that country protecting a supposed democracy where someone might
be put to death by the state because of their religious beliefs.
The judge
in this Afghan trial claimed that he was only doing his job according to the
laws established by their constitution. Eventually the case was dismissed, not
on the grounds that Rahman was innocent but because
he was deemed mentally unfit to stand trial. The concern then was that he would
be killed by vigilantes until Italy granted him asylum so that he could avoid
religious persecution
We don’t
expect religious persecution in our time, although the reality is that is
exists in many places in our world for many different reasons and often
religion and politics are intertwined.
There are
probably more cases than we can imagine where the innocent are on trial
Today we
began worship with the Hosannas of Palm Sunday but we haven’t stayed there in
our worship. In our dramatic reading of some of the last events in Jesus’ life
we heard of not one but two trials which took place during his final hours. One
was religious and took place before what seems to be a hastily convened group
called the Sanhedrin. In essence Jesuse is accused of
claiming to be the messiah, or the Christ, and if this is true then he is guilty
of blasphemy. In what we heard this morning there wasn’t enough evidence for a
conviction.
The other
trial, the one which led to Jesus’ public execution by crucifixion was before
the Roman governor whose name was Pontius Pilate, a rather shadowy but
fascinating figure. Even though Pilate is named in the Apostle’s Creed, some
twentieth century scholars
rgued that Pilate was not a real
person. Rather he was a literary fabrication by the gospel writers for the
purpose of adding drama to the story of Jesus’ death. That speculation came to
an end when a limestone tablet was found at Caesarea, a coastal fortress in
ancient times, with Pilate’s name inscribed on it.
When we
read the gospels we might get the impression that Pilate couldn’t care less
about Jesus, or might have actually admired him, and only sentenced him to
death to appease the religious leaders.
In fact it was Pilate’s job to keep the Pax Romanus, or Roman Peace, and Jesus’ entry into the city of
Jerusalem, riding through an adoring and potentially volatile crowd wouldn’t
have gone unnoticed by the authorities. Fred Craddock points out that what
comes across as a festive, celebratory parade to us would have been akin to a protest
march to Pilate and he would not have suffered that lightly.
When Jesus
came before the governor he would have looked like every prisoner on trial,
with a sign would be hung around his neck and the charges against him written
on it.
Make no
mistake, it is
Pilate who has the authority to have Jesus put to death, despite the rather
dramatic show of absolving himself of responsibility by washing his hands in
front of the crowd.
In the end
Jesus wasn’t convicted of blasphemy but of sedition, but he died just the same.
It seems such a sad end for someone who taught and gave the example of God’s
radical love and the wholeness which is shalom. As we heard, along the way
there was denial and betrayal and abandonment.
What’s the
verdict on our willingness to stand with Jesus? I wonder if any of us have ever
felt that we were on trial for our faith. It’s easy to ask: have any of you
been persecuted or felt threatened because you are a Christian? Probably not in any significant way. Although we complain at
times about how secular our society has become there is little consequence to
being a Christian.
As active
Christians – those who choose to follow Jesus in an intentional way – we really
don’t look any different than everyone else. There is no uniform, even for most
pastors and ministers. In the United Church the clergy don’t wear clerical
collars every day the way the priests of some denominations are required to do.
But from time to time I wear one when I am outside the church and the reactions
are interesting. Some people give a side-long glance as they pass by, and some
offer a friendly smile when they wouldn’t normally do so. Some stare as though
they are wondering if my other head is in my sleeve! I have never been
criticized or threatened when I was wearing this Even ministers don’t have to look like
Christians all that often.
For the
most part we don’t carry around anything that would mark us as Christians either , such as the bible that led to Abdul Rahman’s arrest.
When we lived in Newfoundland at the beginning of my ministry the manse
was next to the highschool, and once a month a number
of the teens from our youth group would come over for a lunch-hour bible study.
We were close enough to these delightful young people that they would let
themselves into the house if we weren’t home yet and often they would be seated
at the dining room table with their bibles ready when we arrived. One time I commended them for being willing
to take their bibles to school with them. They assured me that they had them
carefully hidden in their backpacks and no else knew what they were doing!
If we don’t
look Christian and don’t have to haul anything around with us that marks us a
Christian, what evidence is there of our faith? Is there enough evidence to
convict us of being Christian?
We can do a
fairly good job of quietly pushing our Christian faith into the background of
our lives, myself included. We will hold our noses and
go ahead with decisions in the day-to-day that we aren’t sure are ethical or
right. The guy at the body shop offers us a cut of the padding on an insurance
claim and we are tempted to say “sure.”
Someone
tells a joke at a party that is homophobic or racist or just plain gross and we
might laugh along or simply slip out of the circle without challenging what has
been said because we don’t want to give the impression of the “straight arrow.”
We engage
in some useless character assassination of a co-worker in a gossip session and
even though we tell ourselves it isn’t really harmful we wouldn’t want them to
hear what we said.
We might
describe ourselves as church-goers rather than Christians because it sounds a
little less intense.
Our “trial”
if we can even call it that, is to be faithful to Christ in the midst of the
comfort we experience. Perhaps one of the greatest threats we face to our faith
is not persecution but complacency. The rather quirky American novelist of
another era, Flannery O’Connor once observed that “What people don’t
realize, is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket
when of course it is the cross.” Even though we don’t always see it at the
time people will pay attention to what we say we believe and, more
importantly, what we do because we believe.
On this
Sunday of palms and passion I always wonder what the gospel or Good News could
possibly be, because the motto for the day could be “from bad to worse.”
The
encouragement we find in this rather sobering drama of the last days of Jesus’
life if that we can make choices. Do you notice how many choices are made in
the story we heard? Peter chooses to deny Jesus after he has pledged loyalty in
his big blustery way. Judas betrays Jesus, perhaps because he has calculated
that this is the best way to get the revolution started. Pilate chooses to
convict because it is the most expedient thing to do.
Then there
is Jesus, who chooses not to run from the pain, and not to respond to violence
with more violence, and not to “make his case” before an official who couldn’t
possibly understand his message or mission. And in what appears to be these
dead-end decisions Jesus opens the door to Easter and the light of new life for
us all.
So we
choose this morning whether we will take up our crosses to follow Jesus, not in
some show trial covered by the media or written down in a book somewhere but in
the very real events of our everyday living. And even when those choices go
wrong, there is the opportunity to make them right in Christ.
The palm
branches are still here at the front of our sanctuary, reminders of the parade
or protest march or whatever we choose to call what happened that day long ago.
They are also speak the invitation to stay faithful,
to be with Jesus through the dark days which lead to Easter. Some churches have
a blessing of the palms and I will leave you with you one this morning.
O God
who in Jesus Christ
triumphantly entered Jerusalem,
heralding a week of pain and sorrow,
be
with us now
as
we follow the way of the cross.
In these
events of defeat and victory,
you
have sealed the closeness
of
death and resurrection,
of
humiliation and exaltation.
We thank
you for these branches
that
promise to become for us symbols of martydom and
majesty.
Bless
them and us
that
their use this day may announce in our time
that
Christ has come
and
that Christ will come again.
Amen!
Come Christ Jesus!