Sermon for Passion Sunday
“Are ye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of?
And so it begins. We enter into deep Lent, into Passiontide, which is nothing less than our participation in the Passion of Christ which enfolds us into the life of the Trinity. We enter into the radical mystery of God’s love which turns the world on its head. It is profoundly counter-culture, the counter to the culture of fear and resentment that seeks power and dominion at all costs and at the expense of the deeper truth of God and of our humanity in God. The paradox of Passiontide is set before us in today’s readings and on a Sunday which also marks the commemoration of St. Patrick. The conjunction is, I think, wonderfully providential.
Christ is “an High Priest of good things to come,” Hebrews states, but only in the paradox of being victim and sacrifice, for “by his own blood, he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.” Priest and victim. The Gospel reading from Matthew emphasizes the same paradox: not power but sacrifice. “The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.” This is a complete inversion of the power structures of the world and a complete counter to the victimhood culture of our day. Christ is priest and victim. God provides himself the lamb for the sacrifice that redeems us to eternal life; our life in God.
The medieval historian Jacques Delarun captures this in a book entitled “To govern is to Serve.” It chronicles some remarkable experiments in the ordering of monastic communities among a number of twelfth and thirteenth century orders influenced by the personalities of St. Dominic and St. Francis. They were attempts to embody the radical equality of Christ as the shepherd of the sheep who cares for one and for all equally; omnes et singulatim, all together and each one individually. To enter into the Passion is to learn the sacrificial nature of the divine life, the self-giving life of God as Trinity.
The mother of Zebedee’s children comes with her sons to Jesus seeking preferment and privilege for them, that they “may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on the left, in thy kingdom.” His gentle yet firm reply to her speaks to our humanity in its ignorance and presumption. “Ye know not what ye ask.” It is a striking indictment of our fallen humanity and anticipates his first word from the Cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” The privileges we seek for ourselves are invariably at the expense of others and negate our common humanity by treating some as better and greater than others. Jesus then addresses her sons. His questions point explicitly to his Passion and stand in complete contrast to the presumption in their quest and to that of the ten disciples as well. “Are ye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”, he asks. The questions point to our sacramental participation in Christ’s own sacrifice through baptism and communion.