Tuesday, March 7, 2017

“Making ‘What If’ History”

Homily for the First Sunday in Lent  5 March 2017
The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Rector
Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted.                                                                                                                    Matthew 4:1
The book cover is enough to make an Anglophile swoon: Britain’s reigning monarch, Queen Elizabeth II, sporting her tastefully-restrained grin, and gamely bearing up under the considerable weight of diamond tiara, diamond necklace, and diamond-encrusted badge of the Order of the Garter.
In the near distance, over her right shoulder, the Union Jack flutters — without apology — atop … the White House.
Yes, the White House. Meaning: What if we had lost the War for Independence? The fallout? At this year’s Super Bowl, Luke Bryan would have had a crack at ‘God Save the Queen.’
Improbable? Well, it’s possible in the parallel universe of alternate endings set up by What If? America, edited by military historian Robert Cowley. It’s a history of what didn’t happen.
For example, what if the Mayflower, whose original destination was Virginia, hadn’t been blown off course? Result? No Pilgrim Fathers and Mothers, no Plymouth Rock, no First Thanksgiving.
And those anti-Anglican and politically-radical Pilgrims rubbing shoulders with the mainstream Anglican gentry of Virginia, with its more forgiving climate than New England? What would be the alternate ending? The Pilgrims’ vaunted values of individualism, godly living, and hard work, coupled with their arguments for religious tolerance, according to Crowley, “might never have gathered the force and influence [they] were to achieve over the next centuries” in America.
The point of the speculative exercise, then: Pivotal moments in history tempt us to fantasize, “What if?”
Take Jesus’ Temptation in the Wilderness. We know how the Temptation ends. Tempted by Satan three times, what’s the score? Jesus shuts out Satan (bing-bing-bing). Nevertheless, there are haunting ‘what ifs’ hanging in the air: What if the score had ended up Jesus 0, Satan 3?
Look at the First Temptation, the “turn stones-into-bread” mini-drama. What’s the real issue? Is it the temptation for Jesus to go on a carbo-loading binge after a 40-day fast? No. The real issue is much larger. It’s about world hunger in relation to God’s love. That is, if God is all-loving, why do people — why do families — go hungry?
What if, then, it played out like this: “Jesus,” Satan purrs, “if you are who you say you are — the Son of the loving God — turn these stones scattered about into bread.” Jesus hesitates for a moment. Then — in a flash! — every pebble, stone, and boulder in sight — every pebble, stone, and boulder in on the planet — turns to bread. That’s a lot of bread. A lot of bread for a lot of hungry people. Imagine: World hunger obliterated once and for all in the blinking of an eye.
What a different story that would be for the starving children of the world, for communities that riot over food, for regions and governments that go to war over food and drinkable water and other life-essential resources.
What a different story that would be for Jesus. A Nobel Prize for the construction worker/turned-home-schooled-philosopher/turned philanthropist. Time Magazine’s “Person of the Year” caught by paparazzi lounging in early retirement.
What a different story that we be for us. No soup kitchens. No outreach. No panhandlers or hand-outs. Our only need? To feed ourselves. Others’ hunger wouldn’t be our problem, because access to food wouldn’t be a problem for anyone, anywhere, at all.
What a simpler story that would be, thanks to ‘what if’: no hunger in our souls to live beyond ourselves.
But Jesus didn’t turn stones into bread, because Jesus didn’t give in to the temptation to make an idol of food. Proof? “One does not live by bread alone.” That’s Jesus’ counter-argument, the sort of thing a loving God says — the God who created whole people to be more than the sum of their appetites … because the struggle for justice, equality, and dignity doesn’t begin and end with the fight for food.
Round One: Jesus 1. Satan 0.
The Second Temptation — what we might be tempted to call the “jump as if your life didn’t depend on it” episode. Strip away the High Anxiety optics, and what’s the real issue? "Why do bad things happen to good people?”
Picture this: We’re perched atop the dizzying pinnacle of the Temple, the highest point in Jerusalem. Satan makes his pitch: “Jesus, it’s pure Vulcan logic. If God is as all-powerful and as just as you say, bad things shouldn’t happen to good people. Now, Jesus, you’re a good person. Go for it. Jump!”
Of course, we know how it turns out. Jesus stays put.
But ‘what if’? Whoosh! Jesus does a swan dive! The crowds below scream in horror. And out of nowhere, legions and legions of angels rush in to break his fall. When the dust clears, a relieved Jesus is left standing … jumpstarting the “Legend of the Jerusalem Jumper.”
What a different story that would be for Jesus. While the angels in the background mug for selfies, on the spot, the people proclaim Jesus as the Messiah. Result? No agony and bloody sweat in Gethsemane … no beatings, no pierced hands, feet, or side … no pain at all … no pain ever.
What a different story that would be for us. We — good people, one and all — would have a green light, when the going gets rough, to throw all caution to the wind and test — no, dare — God. And God, who can't ever get enough of risk, would be honor-bound to bless a new, alien world in which trust without risk would be the norm.
But that ‘what if’ didn’t happen. Jesus didn’t become the Jerusalem Jumper. He did make the point that trust in God isn’t a bad thing (far from it!) … but expecting God to be our constant safety net is.
Consequently, Jesus counters Satan’s argument with “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”
That makes Round Two: Jesus 2. Satan 0.
What about the third, fall-down-and-worship-Satan temptation? Distil the drama, and what’s the issue? If God promises liberation, justice, and peace to all people, why the delay? Why not “freedom now”?
Here again, we know how the scene turns out. But what if — perched on the summit Satan takes Jesus to — surveying all the political and economic power available to accomplish the outcome closest to Jesus’ heart (the liberation of the planet from all oppression and lack of opportunity once and for all, for all), seeing that it could all be his in an instant … for such a small price … a slight compromise, what if Jesus would simply grovel and kiss the feet of Satan? Isn’t “freedom now” worth it? Doesn’t a noble end like liberation justify slightly-compromised means?
What a different story that would be for Jesus. No Crown of Thorns, but an imperial crown. No mocking “Hail, King of the Jews,” but a rousing “Hail to the Chief.” No inscription over his cross (“This is the King of the Jews”). In fact, no cross at all.
And what about us? What would be the lesson for us, if that’s the way it would have gone? Answer: Raw power? Even the power to do good? Seize it, exercise it, and keep it at all costs. Because Jesus would have championed the grim fallacy that the end always justifies the means. And by all means, get power!
But that ‘what if’ didn’t happen. Jesus neither made an idol of power nor did he issue a bankrupt moral imperative (“the end justifies the means”).
Round Three. Jesus 3. Satan 0. Clean sweep!
Recap: Jesus didn’t turn the stones into bread. Jesus didn’t jump. Jesus didn’t kiss Satan’s feet.
Read: Jesus didn’t make an idol of food. Jesus didn’t make an idol of risk-free trust. Jesus didn’t make an idol of power.
And because Jesus made the choices he did, we are here today. Otherwise, borrowing from historian Robert Cowley, Jesus’ ministry — and the Church established in his Name — “might never have gathered the force and influence it was to achieve” over the next millennia.
That means we now have the burden and the opportunity to make world-in-the-balance choices doing our own riff on Jesus’ Temptation.
Bottomline: Given the choice each day this Lent to make — or not make — an idol of food or any other proxy that inhibits ourselves or our neighbors from becoming whole persons in a whole world, what will it be?
Given the choice each day this Lent to take the kind of risks Jesus took and, like him, live with the consequences, what will it be?
And given the choice to achieve good ends — like justice, peace, liberation — by good means alone … or to cut ethical corners … to tarnish noble ends with murky means … what will it be?
By day’s end, then — each day this Lent — how will history turn out for each of us? The stakes are always high, because for each of us Lent is a ‘what if’ blockbuster!
Good news: Jesus has been there. And Jesus is here … with us … in each round … each temptation … to show us the choices he would make. But the choice is always up to us: What if?
Amen.