Why do you seek the living among the dead?

Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments.

On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment.

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.

- Luke 23:56b-24:11

This story has a particular sort of depth of charm to it for me. That's because once the women appear at this tomb, with its stone rolled away, we seem to have been placed into a world quite different from the one the women seemed to think they were in, as they walked to the tomb carrying their spices. This quiet scene of these women going to do what it is necessary to do for their friend, their master, the one whom they followed, walk into a place that is astonishing. Not only is the stone rolled away from the tomb, but they encounter two dazzling men who appear inside the tomb. These, of course, are angels. Their encounter inside the tomb is an encounter with a world, a kingdom, that has come into their midst in ways they could not have expected.

Although heretofore they have been with the master, with Jesus in his earthly life, this encounter is something never experienced in all of his ministry and their devoted following. Only Peter, James and John (Jesus' closest apostles) were privy to an encounter where there was a transfiguring, dazzling presence, and they were forbidden by Jesus to say anything about it. But here, now, these women on their way to do a necessary duty, alone in their service to the master, doing "women's work," encounter something unheard of. The two men in dazzling clothes appear and then even proceed to speak to them about the master, about Jesus. ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’

Apparently the men in dazzling clothes not only know all about Jesus, but they also know precisely the words Jesus has spoken to them back in Galilee. "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" is a kind of a paradox of a statement, or so it strikes me. The tomb is obviously the place of the dead, and He lives. On the other hand, the place of the dead could just be the world Jesus has left, while he is among the living in an eternal sense, in a place of eternal life, where there is no death.

But one thing is certain, we are now in a different realm ourselves. The whole tone of the gospel changes. The gospel of Luke has suddenly become a narrative into which has come a tremendous miracle, unveiled before these humble women, the first mentioned among them Mary Magdelene, out of whom - so Luke has told us earlier in the gospel in chapter 8 - was cast seven demons. In some sense this is poetically similar, or perhaps strangely a mirror of the story of the demoniac named Legion, who lived among the tombs but was turned into a missionary for the gospel by Jesus' healing and casting out of the demons. In this tomb, this place of death, another from whom many demons have been cast out is the one to whom the men in dazzling clothes have appeared and announced the good news. We are in a place where something wonderful has been signified, introduced to us and to the women, to Mary Magdalene and her companions, mothers, relatives and followers with the disciples. The kingdom is announced in a representation of that which has appeared to the humble, now, not just His inner circle.

The good news has been announced indeed! Something in the world has shifted and altered, the dazzling and wonderful has appeared. This is the beginning of something different, a charm to this story of the wonderful. So strange is this story to the apostles that they dismiss it an "idle tale." (One imagines the dismissive nature with which the women's story is greeted. It should be noted that Luke records their skepticism for us.) It is something unimaginable to the men and cannot be taken seriously. The good news has dawned to disbelief and incredulity, and has appeared in ways no one can expect, to those who are the most humble of His followers. Yet the kingdom is present and is announced, and we have suddenly been placed in a new world, a world of life not found in our world before, of something new introduced, something which is, indeed, dazzling!

Father, into your hands I commend my spirit

It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last. When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, ‘Certainly this man was innocent.’ And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts. But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.

Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments.

On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment.

- Luke 23:44-56a

Commentary tells me that Jesus' death at what was traditionally called the sixth hour, or noon, is about the same time of the ritual killing of the paschal lambs. We are also informed of the darkness that comes at noon that day, and the torn curtain in the temple. Jesus is the Lamb of God; all of this symbolic of the great spiritual events taking place.

A sad scene indeed, the aftermath of crucifixion - Jesus' conduct has been such that in death, those who are witnesses are convinced he was surely an innocent man. The centurion overseeing all is convinced that "certainly this man was innocent." The crowds who watched walk away beating their breasts. Jesus' conduct, as given to us in Luke's gospel, is faithful to the end, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit." It is the death of someone who has nothing to regret, who remains faithful to the truth, and to the trust given him, until the very end. So, there is tremendous regret among the crowd, and the centurion, who understand an innocent man was crucified. The poignant note at the end of the first paragraph, above, tells us that Jesus' friends watched all of this at a distance. Those who have stayed close to him, who have followed him from his home of Galilee, have stood watch far away, and witnessed all of this that happened to him.

And then we begin to get the light that creeps into this scene. Importantly, not everyone on the council has agreed to this plan of crucifixion. Joseph of Arimathea comes to Pilate to ask for Jesus' body, to give him a good and proper burial. Those who love him, who care for him, pick up the pieces of what is left to be done for someone after death. This sad, wistful story is a reminder of the love and obligations we feel to someone to whom we have a loyalty, a love. Crucified between two thieves as a criminal, there are those who love and serve him still, there is faith, there are things that remain to be done. It is important that Joseph of Arimathea, who has taken it upon himself to provide a tomb and to ask Pilate for Jesus' body, is also a leader of the Jewish community, a member of the council - and he is one who is showing his love, even in the aftermath of execution. He wraps Jesus in linen; the rock-hewn tomb has never been used. This is a careful treatment of this man who has been crucified as befits the worst criminal.

And the women who've followed from Galilee see all this, and begin their dutiful job for their friend, their leader, the one whom they love. They will prepare his body properly for burial with the spices and ointments they bring. It is the day of preparation, Friday.

On the sabbath, faithful as they are, they rest "according to the commandment." The stage is set for the great event about to take place. It's like a hush has descended in the aftermath of a great trauma, and in the daily necessities, the banal things that follow that must be done by those who have duties and obligations and love even for such a one treated so. We await what is to come, as they rest, in faith, observant of the commandments, befitting those who serve their Lord, even at his death.

The Wedding Banquet

1Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2"The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4Again he sent other slaves, saying, 'Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.' 5But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6while the rest seized his slaves, maltreated them, and killed them. 7The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8Then he said to his slaves, 'The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.' 10Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests."

11"But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12and he said to him, 'Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless. 13Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.' 14For many are called, but few are chosen."

- Matthew 22:1-14

Traditionally this parable is interpreted as the kingdom of Christ (that which he has come to the world to offer to all of us) being rejected by the Jews and being proclaimed to the Gentiles. The slaves are his disciples, proclaiming the good news and inviting all to the wedding feast. They are persecuted, and they go out and abroad (the "main streets" sometimes interpreted "highways") looking for more guests who wish to come. The burned city has been interpreted as Jerusalem which was destroyed by the Romans. The going out into the highways or main streets is the disciples taking the gospel to the Gentiles. Everyone is invited to this wedding feast.

Frequently, Christ's church has been likened to his bride, and Christ the bridegroom. The wedding feast is this great union of kingdom to those who choose to be a part of it. Ancient tradition in the church also applied this parable to initiation into the church; the sacraments (baptism and chrismation) would bring new members into union or marriage with Christ - a union that must grow and become fully realized in the age to come. But clearly we are all called, we are all invited to this banquet. There are no exceptions.

Finally, we are told that "Many are called but few are chosen." Although we will all be called, we will all be invited to this wedding banquet, we are not automatically a part of this joyful feast. We must prepare ourselves for it. We must be dressed as wedding guests, properly prepared to accept this great feast, and to participate in the celebration of this great union. To be properly dressed, to have on the correct vestments, is a way of understanding preparation, our own work that is to be done on ourselves, or rather, within ourselves. Do we think of how we conduct ourselves, what our choices are? Do we consider our own need to be prepared and ready to accept this invitation to the feast? We have a lifetime for this preparation. It's the great union, and Judgment, likened to a banquet, a feast.

This parable tells me that we are all called - but none of us is entitled. If we think we are automatically a part of this wedding banquet by some form of entitlement or certainty then we should think again. There a kind of bottom line - the invitation includes the understanding that it is up to us to groom ourselves properly, to prepare ourselves. Traditionally, the word for this sort of preparation is repentance - "change of mind," a consideration of how we live our lives, what choices we make, and a willingness to bring ourselves adorned in wedding clothes - this ability to make ourselves present to the word of God, to the teachings that groom us best, our willingness to hold ourselves open to change and transformation in light of the Spirit. This is preparedness. We must value and understand the gift itself, the great gift of this invitation to this beautiful feast.

We may all show up for this banquet, but it's how we show up that matters in the end. It's a gift that must be properly valued and considered, and prepared for. How do you groom yourself for God? In the age to come, what ways do we need to prepare for this great union?

This is the King of the Jews

Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. [[ Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.’]] And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!’ The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, ‘If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!’ There was also an inscription over him, ‘This is the King of the Jews.’

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, ‘Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ But the other rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’

- Luke 23:32-43

Symbolically powerful, Jesus is crucified between two criminals. Even at this place of death, the place of the Skull, there are two different perspectives about Jesus. One criminal derides and mocks him, the other understands that Jesus has done nothing wrong, and asks to be remembered in his kingdom. Perhaps Jesus is always there suspended between us, we always have the choice: do we deride and mock, or do we take seriously what we understand to be true? Do we ask to be remembered in the kingdom, or do we simply scoff as we ourselves suffer in a world of pain and death?

This scene is inexpressibly sad and grim in its pathos. If we think of a view of the scene from above, the three crosses on this hill called Calvary, the place of the Skull, we are looking at a scene of execution. "Calvary" comes from the Latin word for skull; in Greek the word for this place means "skull." I read in commentary that either the hill was shaped like a skull or it was a symbol for death. But I think of the dry bones, without the water of Spirit, a symbol for the hopeless. We may stand in this place, but our Lord is here with us, and - like the criminals on either side of him - we always have a choice. He is here with us in whatever dark time or place we experience, and offers us a choice. Jesus will remember the thief in his kingdom; and we always have the choice to remember Jesus. His prayer, 'Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing’ is a reminder to us that even in this place of death, his mercy is with us! Love is always with us in the profoundest place of darkness. Whether this prayer is meant to convey that none of these actors in the scene understands the profound spiritual implications of what they are doing, or it's directed at the executioners doing a job who know nothing of him, I really can't say - although I believe it is a prayer of mercy ever-present to all. There will always be things we don't understand; spiritual growth is a measure of what we come to understand, and our responsibility grows with such understanding.

The leaders and the soldiers mock Jesus, and deride his seemingly powerless condition. I read in commentary that it is highly unlikely that any of the people would do so to one of their own who was being executed by the Romans. I find it profoundly moving that one of the prisoners being executed understands what is happening as a great injustice; he asks for mercy and even as he is being put to death, our Lord is thinking of his job and the salvation offered to the one who asks for it. Again, according to commentary, this repentant criminal will be the first one to enter Paradise. It is fitting, then, that this is our great symbolic reality of the place of crucifixion. In some sense, we are all there with him, the world offers us nails, we are none of us perfect. The two other prisoners on either side of him are equals, but one chooses to use his awareness and depth of understanding, and asks to be remembered. This makes all the difference.

So, even in this place of sadness and death, there is remarkable mercy and compassion. There is life, there is salvation. This tremendous drama, to which we are all onlookers, will be with us always. And the love expressed in these moments is forever with us. We all simply make our choices in this drama of profound depth, and banal evil, with so much going on side by side. Our Lord suffers his death with us, bears our pains with us, and the sign hangs upon the cross "This is the King of the Jews". He offers us all that he is, even unto death. How do we respond?

Do not weep for me

As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus. A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him. But Jesus turned to them and said, ‘Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For the days are surely coming when they will say, “Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.” Then they will begin to say to the mountains, “Fall on us”; and to the hills, “Cover us.” For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?’

- Luke 23:26-31

In this passage, we see evidence of sympathy for Jesus. Not everyone in Jerusalem is demanding his crucifixion. Simon the Cyrene is told to bear Jesus' cross. Simon the Cyrene has come to be a symbol for what we can do to bear the burdens of others; a symbol of Christian charity and service. I think that this narrative teaches us that grace can come in many forms, sometimes (or perhaps more likely, often) when we are not looking for it. I imagine Simon had come from Cyrene for the Passover to Jerusalem, and there he is called upon to bear the cross for Jesus. Perhaps he was a sympathizer and hence was close, perhaps just curious. But I feel it is a sign of grace that he was called to bear Jesus' cross, and a teaching to us that grace will come to us in many forms we can't expect. It is a privilege to carry this cross. He's not helping Christ to his death, nor serving the authorities to put an innocent man to death; rather it is a grace to bear the burden of this savior put to death in this dark time.

The women of Jerusalem who lament are certainly those who sympathize with Jesus. So deeply does Jesus himself feel the burden of the time that is happening there in Jerusalem that he, instead, turns to them in sympathy. 'Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.' His feeling that is conveyed here is a measure of certainty of the seeds that have been sown in a dark time. And this tells me a kind of a secret about spiritual power and about the effects of true judgment. In this time of darkness a seed is being sown, choices have been made that will bear fruit in the long run. The fruit of this tree will be dark indeed; what is sown in murder will reap decimation on a large scale. We pay for our choices in some way; sooner or later choices to deny the Good will bear fruit we will have to endure. Even in this world, acts meant to deny truth, to cover a lie in spiritual terms, will bear their own type of fruit and eventual burdens upon us. Jesus predicts the destruction of Jerusalem, the time when people will say “Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.” Then they will begin to say to the mountains, “Fall on us”; and to the hills, “Cover us.”

I think it is important to understand the effects of spiritual choice that are expressed here. Jesus is acting through grace, through the will of God - but what is done to thwart such acts of Spirit will have serious consequences. And there, for me, is the crux of my faith - why it is important to seek to act through prayer and a life of Spirit. Because what is done in seeking that will, in acting in accordance with Spirit truly and honestly will have effects in the world, one way or another. None of us are perfect vessels, but we have been taught that the one thing which will not be forgiven is blasphemy of the Spirit. To choose a life in this Spirit and to act in accordance with it is to have an effect in the world. We are not abandoned here to a fate living a life in an "evil" world; rather we are all here as actors with choices to make, and which choice we choose to serve will have effects in the world one way or another. Even in the darkest hours, perhaps especially in the darkest hours, life offers us choices of which seeds we will sow. It is up to us.

Jesus says a proverb in Hebrew: 'For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?’ This common saying is to indicate that if such harm is done to one that bears good fruit, what then will be the harvest of the tree that is dead? When we take our choices seriously, to serve good or bad, to seek truth or to manipulate with a lie, we lay a seed. One way or another it will bear a harvest. Simon the Cyrene serves the purpose of Christ by bearing this "dead tree" of the crucifix upon himself, which will serve as a future symbol of eternal life, of resurrection and faith, and hope even for the darkest hours. Where we least expect it, in forms we can't predict, we may find ourselves chosen to serve the good. May we all remember what it is to choose to serve, and to take our example to serve the good, and to sow a seed for a righteous harvest.

Crucify him!

Pilate then called together the chief priests, the leaders, and the people, and said to them, ‘You brought me this man as one who was perverting the people; and here I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him. Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us. Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death. I will therefore have him flogged and release him.’

Then they all shouted out together, ‘Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!’ (This was a man who had been put in prison for an insurrection that had taken place in the city, and for murder.) Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again; but they kept shouting, ‘Crucify, crucify him!’ A third time he said to them, ‘Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.’ But they kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified; and their voices prevailed. So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted. He released the man they asked for, the one who had been put in prison for insurrection and murder, and he handed Jesus over as they wished.

- Luke 23:13-25

Reading this passage, one gets the feeling of a packed meeting room where the sympathizers of one side have invited all and sundry - so long as they raise their voices on one side of the issue. Pilate continues to say that he has found Jesus guilty of none of the charges brought against him. He goes so far as to note that neither has Herod found Jesus guilty of the charges. Indeed, one wonders how such an incredibly meek-seeming prisoner could possibly be the least threatening to the political leaders Herod and Pilate, and the power that they wielded and how it was wielded in the name of Roman rule.

Nevertheless, the leaders of the community continue to besiege Pilate, insisting that Jesus be crucified and rid from their midst. Pilate insists he will flog and let the prisoner go (to flog in this case means scourging), but the assembly has come there for a purpose and will not give up its desire to get rid of Jesus so easily. Barabbas is a prisoner widely-known for his political crimes of insurrection against the Romans, and for murder. The crowd calls for Barabbas' release instead of Jesus', and so Pilate capitulates. This is a failure of both Roman justice and Jewish justice. It is a system that is working simply for the purpose of oppression, not for justice and not for finding the truth. So, for Jesus, there is every form of injustice that is possible in this situation; even by human standards of the time, his life is in the hands of those who are bargaining politically, who must rule and keep order and control above all else. One could ask, why does Pilate give in to the Jewish leaders and the people they've brought with them? I think the answer is simple: he relies on this council to help him keep order in the community and does not want a full-scale insurrection. In time, (70 A.D.) we know that Rome will eventually decimate Jerusalem and the temple in response to the political unrest of those like Barabbas. For now, it is easy to understand how political rule works, trading favors in return for stability and control, an uneasy "peace." How ironic!

So we have the example of man's justice perverted in the name of rule and order - a kind of peace that comes from political horsetrading. The truth is known and understood: Jesus is innocent of the charges brought against him. But "special interests" will out here. Not only is there the contrast of justice and power on spiritual and worldly terms (see yesterday's commentary), but here the great contrast is between a worldly notion of peace and a spiritual notion of peace. And I think we must ponder that strongly, because the key here is the relationship to truth each has. And so we wind up in important theological territory here, a great piece of the puzzle in understanding the nature of Christian perspective on these central concepts.

Is peace really coming to terms by hook or by crook? Do we make peace through political maneuvering, ignoring inconvenient truths, covering up injustice? Should peace be the result of a search for truth? When we think of peace in spiritual - or even specifically Christian terms - has it got something to do with truth, with a reconciliation in truth or to truth? Do either of these things exist apart from justice? No, they do not. They cannot. Neither is personal salvation a kind of gerrymandering to come to an acceptable conclusion. And if spiritual judgment does not rest on truth, then where is its merit or its value?

In our world today, we'd do well to pay attention to the lessons of this story, and to think about "the things that make for peace." I don't think this story has lost its relevance in any way over the course of time - especially with regard to the guidance inherent in it regarding justice, peace, power, and truth - and how we think of each of these important ideas. The relevance of the spiritual teachings in this gospel to our daily affairs is not something separate and apart, but something that offers us wisdom and guidance. Christ himself will sit on that seat at the "right hand of the power of God" - so he has been quoted by our evangelist during his trial. We have a savior, a Lord, a Judge whose experience as "Son of Man' familiarizes him very well with what hardships we face as human beings, what pawns we can become in the service of expediency, how we are deprived of freedom in the name of keeping peace. There are all sorts of hidden conflicts represented here for the important notions of how we live our lives and conduct ourselves in this world, not least of which is freedom and its relation to truth. Without an honest search for truth - on every level - we don't possess the quality of life we'd choose, or that our highest institutions are meant to serve.

Christ as Logos is witness to it all: the reversal is nearly complete. The author of the law is counted as lawless, the purveyor of truth is denied an honest hearing, he who'd set us free is bound for crucifixion, the Judge is judged. Can we call this peace? Do we remember the lessons here today when we pray for peace or justice? Do we ask for either without an honest search for truth?

Are you the king of the Jews?

Then the assembly rose as a body and brought Jesus before Pilate. They began to accuse him, saying, ‘We found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king.’ Then Pilate asked him, ‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ He answered, ‘You say so.’ Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, ‘I find no basis for an accusation against this man.’ But they were insistent and said, ‘He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place.’

When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. And when he learned that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him off to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had been wanting to see him for a long time, because he had heard about him and was hoping to see him perform some sign. He questioned him at some length, but Jesus gave him no answer. The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him. Even Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him; then he put an elegant robe on him, and sent him back to Pilate. That same day Herod and Pilate became friends with each other; before this they had been enemies.

- Luke 23:1-12

In this passage, the notions of power that are displayed act in completely different ways, and the notions of judgment expressed through that power will vary also. We first have the quite obvious power of the authorities: both the council (the Sanhedrin) and of Pilate and Herod, two who rule in the name of Rome. And then we have the power of Christ, which is also reflected in his words (of yesterday's passage) as the power of Judgment. Notions of power and judgment are here in sharp contrast, through behavior and actions of sentencing and accusation.

We first have the idea of the council, the assembly, who bring Jesus before Pilate, the Roman ruler (procurator) of Judea. They bring charges before Pilate against Jesus - he is "perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king." Jesus, we know, has done no such thing in any case of the three charges. Neither has he forbidden anyone to pay taxes, nor stirred up the nation politically, nor has he declared himself a political Messiah, a political king. These, therefore, are fabricated charges. Pilate himself seems to be aware of this, as he takes none of them seriously. Indeed, one suspects that Pilate - with plenty of Roman soldiers and Roman power at his disposal - has his own ways of keeping tabs on what is going on in Judea, and whether or not such things are happening. Given the political unrest we already know that stirs Judea and gives the Romans plenty to keep watch over, to threaten their sense of power and control over their colony, one would think it was the chief duty of Pilate to be aware of precisely which "criminals" stir up the population and seek political power.

Yet Pilate seeks to disabuse himself of these persistent charges of the assembly - most likely they are useful to him if they keep rule and control over the people and have some form of cooperative (albeit uneasy) relationship with him. So he finds a way to take Jesus off his own hands, although his pronouncement to the council is that he finds nothing against Jesus and the charges unsubstantial. After all, Pilate's acts convey, we do know whose power is real here politically, who holds the political power over the land. So Pilate, on finding that Jesus is from Galilee, sends him to the jurisdiction of Herod. Herod is quite grateful for this sign of political largesse, as we could imagine issues of jurisdiction in any political system with which we're familiar today would work. Jesus becomes a kind of political pawn that works to show favor to Herod, to cement a relationship between Herod and Pilate that had heretofore been uneasy, and to rid Pilate of a problem he doesn't wish to deal with. We can relate to this sort of political power; governments most likely must deal with such types of problems every day.

Herod, although also a ruler in the name of Rome, is a slightly different sort than Pilate. This is the same Herod Antipas who was reproached by John the Baptist for his divorce from his wife in order to marry the wife of his half-brother; and subsequently executed John the Baptist. He wishes to see signs of miracles or magic by Jesus. But Jesus, the other type of power in this picture, does not oblige Herod by performance. So far, Jesus has refused participation in these hearings; he allows them to proceed via the crooked actions he understands are taking place. So Herod, upon hearing the vehement accusations of the council, treats Jesus with the same types of contempt and mocking Jesus was subject to while held awaiting the council. He and his soldiers ridicule Jesus by putting him in a robe befitting a luxurious ruler (as he is accused of proclaiming himself king) and send him back to Pilate. This new reciprocal action among political appointees with different jurisdictions seals the newfound friendship between Herod and Pilate.

Yesterday's passage notes Jesus' declaration of his own power before the council, 'From now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God.' This is a power denoting and suggesting the power of Judgment. We have, in these scenes of today's reading, a dual definition of power and a dual definition of judgment. We see spiritual power and judgment at work, and earthly power and judgment at work. Jesus chooses not to use his power to stop any of the proceedings against him; this indeed is the will of the Father, as we have been told. But nevertheless he has stated his power clearly, he has taught daily in the temple clearly. The charges against him are false as they are intended to create political censure; the spiritual ideas Jesus has taught, even his naming himself the Son of Man and declaration of spiritual power are not the issue here. But they are completely unacceptable to the council; incomprehensible to the Roman ruler. So we have parallel systems of power and judgment at work here; one worldly, the other spiritual. One fails to comprehend the other, while Jesus' understanding is clear and yet he allows all to proceed against him. He doesn't cooperate in the sense that he does not honor false proceedings, with false and perverse intent, by putting himself on the defense as he has not been granted the right of questioning. In a similar way he never defensively answered the charges put against him in the temple either - but rather taught in his own way in response. So he does not honor the power at work here - but is himself a witness to what he will eventually judge at that "seat of the right hand of the power of God."