Sunday, November 25, 2007

sermon excerpts: "Another Day in Paradise"

(Colossians 1: 11-20; Luke 23: 33-43)

...What really is paradise? This the only place in the Bible that Jesus speaks of paradise. And we wonder what exactly he means. In some cultures, paradise is different from heaven; in others, they’re one and the same.

Being the word nerd that I am, I did some research on the origins of the word. We trace it back to ancient Persia, modern day Iran, and the word pairi-daiza refers to a royal garden closed in by high walls. In a time and place where any land that could grow anything would be used for crops and food, it was closely guarded luxury to have flower gardens for show. Only a king could afford such a pairi-daiza.

From this understanding comes the English word “paradise”. And the effect of using such a word is not lost. By inviting someone to paradise, to the royal garden, Jesus is as much saying that he is a king himself. Whether this is reference to Eden or to some other mystical, spiritual wonderland, is less important than the invitation itself.

... We know that on the cross, Jesus is mocked, insulted and attacked by the crowd that had gathered. A death row criminal, the man hanging on a cross beside him, is the only one who defends him. Crucifixion is horrid and cruel, using the body weight of the victim to slowly suffocate himself. It is appalling and frightening to consider how creative and innovative we can be in our cruelty. How unwilling we are to hear someone’s story, to offer compassion or mercy. How easily we go along with the crowd.

Just because a group of people gather in one place does not make a community. The mob mentality at the cross is not how true community conducts itself. A genuine community invites difference and seeks to understand. We need dissenting opinions to keep us honest.

Such is the kingdom of Christ, where everyone and all opinions are welcome. Yet, we hold onto our human idea that a king rules from on high with absolute power and might and authority. The writer to the Colossians marvels at the strength and magnificence of the Cosmic Christ, almighty and all-powerful. While all this praise and glory may be true and well-deserved, it distracts us from the nature of Christian living, humble and serving others.

The aim of such a life is that we would know peace and offer it to those around us. “The peace of Christ be with you. / And also with you.” We know what to say, but are we clear on what we mean? The promise of peace is given. What really is peace?

It could mean tranquility or lack of conflict or violence. Although overpowering military might could be part of the picture such as the peace that was enforced by the Roman Empire. Or ask the people of Afghanistan how much they liked the peace administered by the Taliban, or Iraqis about the peace granted by Saddam Hussein ...

The peace of Christ would stir us up to engage the powers of oppression, to speak out against the crowd. The peace of Christ might very well cause us to abandon our comfortable, serene worldview and work for hopeless cases. The peace of Christ is a dangerous thing, especially when we wish it upon others.

... I’m not sure what the peace of Christ feels like. I do cling to the belief that God’s kingdom is a better place. I know that paradise is a place of honour and fruitfulness, where we would know the satisfaction that every good possibility is fulfilled, and all people have comfort, care and value.

Such is the intended reign of Christ, ushered into existence by suffering and pain into this broken world, so that we may look forward to a better way. But it wouldn’t stop there: we would also be spurred into action and resolve to reach out to others, to give voice to our faith. The peace of Christ is actually a difficult way of living: it means speaking against the crowd, confronting evil and hatred, risking ridicule and insult.

This is the kingdom we uphold on this day of Christ as king. In our preparations for Christmas, we’ll remember that it’s not the arrival of the little baby Jesus we work towards. It is the arrival of a faith-filled belief in the creative goodness of humanity, the path of Christ that we follow. In the coming season of Advent, we are readying ourselves and this world for a reign of peace and paradise that requires hard work and hard decisions. So we journey towards a vision of our crosses empty and unused, where every baby bassinet is filled. Let this be our hope.