Put to Shame
Rev. Mark Schaefer
Kay Spiritual Life Center
April 5, 2009--Palm Sunday
Isaiah 50:4-9a; Mark 15: 25-39

Isaiah 50:4-9 The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens-- wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward. I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.
       The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near. Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together. Who are my adversaries? Let them confront me. It is the Lord GOD who helps me; who will declare me guilty?

Mark 15:25-39 It was nine o'clock in the morning when they crucified him. The inscription of the charge against him read, "The King of the Jews." And with him they crucified two bandits, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!" In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes, were also mocking him among themselves and saying, "He saved others; he cannot save himself. Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe." Those who were crucified with him also taunted him.
       When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. At three o'clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?" which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, "Listen, he is calling for Elijah." And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying, "Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down." Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, "Truly this man was God's Son!"

I. BEGINNING

So, I decided to go for a bike ride yesterday because the weather was so nice. That was a good idea. I decided to bike down toward the Tidal Basin to see the Cherry Blossoms. That was not a good idea.

See, the older I've gotten, the less I like crowds. Perhaps at one time when I was younger there was an exhilaration being among so many people. But even for special events, like the Inauguration, that charm has worn off. And so, as I biked along Independence Avenue, pressed in between the bumper to bumper traffic on the street and the packed sidewalks full of tourists and blossom-gawkers, I couldn't help but notice that the lyrics to the song I was listening to on my iPod were very appropriate:

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion. I can't get no relief." [1]

And then I began to think more and more how it's not just that I don't like crowds--on some level, I don't trust them. And the lyrics to another song came into my head--words from Sting's All This Time : "Men go crazy in congregations, they only get better one by one."

And I got thinking, 'Boy, isn't that the truth?'

II. The Crowds

People do go crazy in crowds. Look at the near criminal behavior that takes place at soccer games. Look at how perfectly decent young women will sink into all kinds of depravity for some beads to wear around their necks in the midst of the crowds of Mardis Gras. Look at the crowds that got fired up to lynch blacks in the south. The crowds that gleefully burned books in Nazi Germany.

Look at the crowds that gathered outside the Governor's Palace in Jerusalem on Good Friday. Now, of course, that crowd dismays me the most because that crowd had shouted 'hosanna' to Jesus on Palm Sunday and then was shouting 'Crucify him!' on Good Friday.

In Mark's gospel, one of the key features is the repeated mention of "the crowds". In fact, one out of every 50 words in Mark's gospel is "crowd". The highest percentage among the gospels. And crowds play an important role in Mark's gospel. They follow Jesus around Galilee. They are fed by Jesus. They surround the house in Capernaum where Jesus and the disciples are staying. They greet Jesus on his way into Jerusalem. They call for his crucifixion on Good Friday. They crowds are an important part of the narrative. They are not incidental. They are central. So, we are to understand that the crowds crying "Hosanna" and the crowds calling "Crucify him!" are part of the same phenomenon in Mark's gospel. We cannot pretend that it is a crowd of supporters on one day and detractors another. It is the same "crowds".

III. The PSYCHOLOGY of the Mob

Why do crowds behave this way? There have been some pretty horrific stories to demonstrate our behavior when in large groups.

I told this story a few years ago, but it bears repeating. In 1964, a young woman named Kitty Genovese was stabbed outside her apartment in middle class Kew Gardens, Queens. As she lay in the street, crawling to the door of her building, she called out for help numerous times, even saying "I'm dying, I'm dying." It was later determined that there were 38 bystanders who witnessed the entire episode, even the return of her assailant as he sexually assaulted her and stabbed her again, killing her. Not one of them intervened. Not one of them called the police until more than half an hour later. When the police arrived three minutes later it was too late. Doctors later concluded that had police arrived after Kitty was first stabbed, she could have been saved. But no one had called.

The nation struggled to figure out how such a terrible thing had happened. They tried to come to terms with the fact that 38 people had witnessed at least part of the assault and had done nothing. Many blamed television and the desensitization to violence. Many blamed the impersonal nature of urban life. Psychologists have since concluded that there is a psychological syndrome, now called the "Kitty Genovese Syndrome" that takes effect. In large crowds there is what is called a "diffusion of responsibility"--in effect, everyone believes that someone else will respond. Someone else will take care of it.

What they concluded was that Kitty Genovese would have been better off if there had been only one bystander, as opposed to thirty-eight. That one person would have had no choice but to realize that he or she had to respond, because no one else would. With a crowd, the idea that someone else will take responsibility is all too easy to maintain.

Could it be that simple? Is it just that all the people who were there that morning just got caught up in the power play? They were easily swayed by a determined few and soon diffusion of responsibility and mob psychology took hold? And soon Jesus, the one they'd proclaimed king on Sunday was condemned to die on Friday?

Or is it something deeper? Is it just simply the fact that we so often lack the courage to do the right thing, and instead do the shameful thing? Is it that we are sinful to begin with. And so much the more so when we are in crowds, where responsibility is diffused and good judgment goes awry? And the brokenness and sin that dwells in our hearts finds it all the easier to come out.

And so we--the crowds--turn on the one we had once proclaimed king and messiah, and call for his crucifixion.

IV. Put to shame

You know, the early Christians had no scriptures of their own. The only bible the early church had was the Hebrew Bible--the Old Testament. After Easter, when the Christian movement was convinced of Jesus' messiahship, Christians began to comb through their scriptures and look for anything that could give them an understanding of who Jesus was.

And among the many passages of scripture they found, most of them in Isaiah, was the passage from Isaiah 50 that we read earlier:

I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting

The Christians who came across this text, saw in it a portrait of their Messiah--of one who took suffering upon himself, who "did not hide... from insult and spitting." They saw Jesus as the Suffering Servant portrayed in Isaiah:

"He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account." (Isaiah 53:3 NRSV)

Jesus is like the one rejected, despised. The man of suffering. Jesus is the one who though blameless is made to suffer the punishment deserved by us all. Jesus is the one who is mocked and beaten. The one who through our actions and our rejection is put to a shameful death. The death of a convict and a criminal, of a brigand or a slave: the death upon the cross.

But, as the text continues in Isaiah 50:

The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near.

In spite of the fact that as a result of the crowds it is Jesus who is mocked and scorned, beaten and crucified, it is not Jesus who was put to shame--it is we who are.

V. THe Crowds (Again)

Because there are crowds beyond those gatherings of large numbers of people in a given place. We are part of crowds our whole lives long.

We are part of that crowd that tells us over and over again that the problem with the poor is that they don't work hard enough, or pray hard enough, or some other failing on their part. And when we go along with the crowd, when we turn our backs on the poor and needy, we shout again, "Crucify him!"

We are part of that crowd that tells us that political expediency is more important than justice or peace and that we need to consort with tyrants to promote our interests. And when we go along with the crowd, when we ignore the oppressed, we shout again, "Crucify him!"

We are part of that crowd that tells us that people who are different, because they are the wrong race, ethnic group, gender, sexual orientation, political opinion, religion, and so on, are not part of "us" and are not welcomed among us. And when we go along with the crowd, when we do not welcome all people in the name of Christ, we shout again, "Crucify him!"

We are part of that crowd that tells us that we are the masters of our own fates, our own destinies--that life is about taking what is ours rather than giving it for the sake of the Kingdom. And when we go along with the crowd, when we make ourselves the object of our lives and not God, we shout again, "Crucify him!"

We are a part of that crowd that tells us that safety is more important than freedom. A crowd living out of fear and anxiety, not out of hope. And when we go along with the crowd, when we succumb to fear, we shout again, "Crucify him!"

We are part of a crowd that tells us that our faith is a nice personal belief system, but that our faith has nothing to say about our public life, our social systems that may be helping some and oppressing others. And when we go along with the crowd, when we compartmentalize our faith, we shout again, "Crucify him!"

For Christ came to stand with the oppressed, to side with the poor, to welcome those whom no one else would welcome, to challenge us to take risks for the Kingdom, to live our lives free of fear, to live out our faith as a faith of consequence in the world. And there are so many times we turn away because of the crowd.

VI. End

And so, knowing that we are part of the fickle, mad crowds, who turn so easily against Jesus, how can we with any integrity cry "hosanna", when we know how often it is we cry "Crucify him!"?

It has occurred to me, and not for the first time, that Jesus knew that he was going to his death on the cross. He had been predicting his death all along, and starting with Peter's confession that Jesus was the Messiah, he began to predict it with greater and greater frequency. Jesus knew he was going to be handed over to be crucified. It makes me wonder how he felt on Palm Sunday. We always show him smiling in the movies. I wonder if those hosannas rang a little hollow in Jesus' ears, knowing what he knew.

We forget that sometimes: that Jesus went into Jerusalem likely knowing it would bring about his death. And yet he did it anyway. Why? Why would anyone do that for a crowd of fickle ingrates? Imagine Jesus, coming into Jerusalem, willing to go to the cross for people who are singing hosannas now, but in five days' time will be crying out for his crucifixion! Can you imagine? I can't It's mind boggling.

But that's who we're dealing with here. We are dealing with a lord of Grace and the Prince of Peace. We are dealing with one who knew our fickle ways before we knew them. Who knew that we would be shouting "hosanna" on Sunday and "Crucify him!" on Friday. And in spite of that, he went to the cross for us.

We acted in ways that sought to put Christ to shame and it was we ourselves who were put to shame. And yet, Christ does not regard us with shame. Christ regards us with love.

Christ rides into Jerusalem amidst the crowds shouting his praises--those same crowds would be calling for his death. And he rides into Jerusalem anyway. He rides in for us. To reconcile us all to God, to take upon himself the consequences of all our brokenness. Of all our fear. Of all our inability to separate ourselves from the crowd.

I can't fathom it. I'm not good enough. I am one of those who would be in that crowd shouting "Crucify him!" And yet, Jesus entered into Jerusalem that Palm Sunday, to go to the cross, knowing that the crowd would reject him. He went to the cross for me . He went to the cross for you . And for that reason--in spite of all our brokenness, in spite of our tendency to sin, in spite of our continually going along with the crowd--we can shout "Hosanna!"

Notes
[1] http://www.bobdylan.com/#/songs/all-along-watchtower