(Is 50:4-9; Ps 22:1-5; Mk 15:25-47)

Lent 6 ~ 10:30 am, Palm/Passion Sun, March 24, 2024 ~ FBCA

I have learned that I, Jeff White, am a natural-born follower. So, when I joined the local running group, I discovered I could learn to run ten kms, or fifteen, or even twenty-one, if I just follow along with the others. And, wow!, I can run in the rain, run in the slush, run in -10 with a wind chill. I just follow the example of others.

To follow Jesus all the way, no matter what happens to Him, and to us, this is the calling of the disciple, the Christian. As we hear Mark’s brief telling of Jesus’ execution, we note who was close by to see it all happen. A group of women; three of them are named. At the end of the narrative, Mark lets us know they were there, had been following for some time, and were supporters of Jesus and the group up north in Galilee.

What did it take, I’ve wondered, to follow Jesus all the way, as Mary, Mary, Salome, and others did? Part of me thinks it must have been a terrible, gruesome thing to watch executions by crucifixion. But that is exactly what they were for - for watching, for warning people entering the city of Jerusalem. This is what happens to those who oppose the Roman government. Barbaric! we might say. We forget our own history, and the executions that happened in our own town, a century or more ago, quite near here.

To follow Jesus all the way, almost two thousand years ago, was to see a beloved guide and teacher get arrested, beaten up, and put to death publicly. All these centuries later, we don’t face those same experiences. But we do face the story. We are the keepers of the story, the tellers of the story. And we are those who live differently because of the claim this story has upon us. So we sometimes follow Christ when others do not, and some strongly reject this path. The Gospel stories of Jesus tell the tale of His rejection, and attacks. The following of this Man and God today regularly comes under attack, or at least rejection.

An Australian musician and comedian wrote a Christmas Song. And it haunts me. It keeps me grounded in the world of opposition to my religion. Tim Mincin’s song is called ‘White Wine in the Sun.’

I really like Christmas

It's sentimental, I know, but I just really like it

I am hardly religious

I'd rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu,

to be honest

And yes, I have all of the usual objections to consumerism

The commercialisation of an ancient religion

And the westernisation of a dead Palestinian

Press-ganged into selling Playstations and beer

But I still really like it

I don't go for ancient wisdom

I don't believe just 'cos ideas are tenacious

it means they are worthy

I get freaked out by churches

Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords

but the lyrics are dodgy

And yes I have all of the usual objections to the miseducation

Of children who in tax-exempt institutions are taught

to externalise blame

And to feel ashamed and to judge things as plain

right and wrong

But I quite like the songs

To me, Tim Mincin is a voice in our conversation with those who strongly oppose the ‘following of Jesus.’ It is so important to hear and understand. And to remember to see the differences there are between our religion and the actual, real God in Jesus Christ.

Another thing that happens to the Jesus for whom we make a Holy Week is disinterest. I think many people are simply not impressed. Apathetic. And some, quite uninformed. How can they judge if they don’t know the basics of the Holy Story we tell?

One hundred years ago - remember the Roaring Twenties? - there may have been some apathy. Apathy with spiritual practices. Disinterest in Jesus Christ. Responding to this was World War I chaplain and Anglican priest, Rev. Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy (1883-1929), who was a poet. I was introduced to his work by my homiletics professor. Here is one of his poems, named ‘Indifference.’

(Matthew 25:31-46)

When Jesus came to Golgotha

They hanged Him on a tree,

They drave great nails through hands and feet,

And made a Calvary.

They crowned Him with a crown of thorns;

Red were His wounds and deep,

For those were crude and cruel days,

And human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham,

They simply passed Him by;

They never hurt a hair of Him,

They only let Him die.

For men had grown more tender,

And they would not give Him pain;

They only just passed down the street,

And left Him in the rain.

Still Jesus cried, “Forgive them,

For they know not what they do.”

And still it rained the winter rain

That drenched Him through and through.

The crowds went home and left the streets

Without a soul to see;

And Jesus crouched against a wall

And cried for Calvary.

We, as followers of the Way of Jesus today, live in a world sometimes interested in Jesus, but not keen to follow. You and I are keen enough today to be gathered here. (Hopefully not just for a meeting, but also for divine worship!) More and more we discover that people my age and younger know little of who God is when you know Jesus, or what Christianity actually is, in practice. I will always remember a moment in a biology lab at Acadia University, in 1991. One of my lab-mates said the only things she knew about Jesus Christ were from the musical movie, Jesus Christ Superstar. More than thirty years later, our witness to the Jesus story is all the more important.

The brilliant, Christian author of a century ago, G. K. Chesterton, famously wrote, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.” (What’s Wrong With the World, 1910)

We have so much to learn, in this decade, about our Faith, for how we live it well is new, in this new age. There is always more to try out, with God. It is no easy pathway. This week, this Holy Week, we remind ourselves again how challenging the path of Jesus was. And how intense it can be today, to follow all the way this Person who shows us God directly, even when He dies.