Those
of us listening to her story leaned in, nodding
our head in agreement. As people of faith, we know
a security that grows out of hope in a God who is
always bringing new life out of death.
Last Sunday, the children in my church danced us into Holy
Week, waving green palms over their heads, then
depositing them at the foot of the altar. Christians
around the world mark Palm Sunday with singing and
dancing, with palm branches and processionals. The
story of Palm Sunday is rooted in the Jewish festival
of Passover, a commemoration of the Exodus out of
slavery in Egypt. It was during the celebration of Passover
that Jesus entered Jerusalem
among the throngs of Jews who had come to the city
for the holy festival.
Along with the Jewish pilgrimage into Jerusalem
came an imperial entry into the city with full Roman
guard. This march reminded the gathering pilgrims
of the power of the Empire, which cast an oppressive
shadow over their lives. While the Roman guard invaded
Jerusalem mounted on powerful steeds, Jesus made his way into Jerusalem
on the other side of town, riding a humble colt
in the company of poor pilgrims who celebrated his
arrival with great exuberance. There were two marches
into the city that day. One was flashy and powerful,
the antics of an oppressive regime. The other was
humble and peaceful, an alternative pilgrimage in
remembrance of God's liberating acts.
Christians enter into Holy Week by way of Palm Sunday, a
celebration of Jesus' pilgrimage into Jerusalem. A week that begins with palm branches dancing with joy quickly
unravels into betrayal, torture, and the assassination
of Jesus at the hands of the state. Holy Week ushers
Christians through Maundy Thursday, a remembrance
of the last supper that Jesus shared with his companions,
into Good Friday, when Jesus' death is commemorated.
And then, like spring, comes Easter Sunday.
Did you know that Easter comes unusually early this year?
It has not come this early in 95 years and will
not come this early again for another two centuries.Those of us in the Christian tradition are therefore
grappling with a Holy Week that includes the fifth
anniversary of the invasion of Iraq.
What does it mean to remember Jesus' death at the
same time that we reflect on our nation’s five year
occupation of Iraq? The death of our God,
coupled with the death of Iraqi children, American
soldiers, Iraqis of every religion and tribe…
The cost of this war is growing at a breakneck speed: 3,990
American soldiers dead.More than 82,000 civilian lives destroyed.Four million displaced Iraqis, with two million of them
refugees seeking resettlement in other nations. $522
billion spent. $9 billion unaccounted for. Perhaps
you’ve heard. On any given day we spend
$720 million in Iraq. We’re entering an economic
recession here at home, and we are told there’s
no money to fix our education system, no money for
children’s health care, no money to create affordable
housing. And yet one day in Iraq
could fund the construction of 84 new elementary
schools, health care for 423,529 children, or housing
for 6,482 families.
Dr. Chalmers Johnson notes, "in our devotion to militarism,
we are failing to invest in our social infrastructure…and
the long term health of the U.S."Our expenditures, not just on war but on annual defense
spending, he calls both "morally obscene"
and "fiscally unsustainable." An imperialist economic and foreign policy virtually
require an ongoing war economy, which is spread
across vast numbers of congressional districts and
promoted as jobs programs. So why is our economy
not stimulated by five years of war spending and
weapons manufacturing? Perhaps because war spending
is actually "a job killer."A recent article in The Nation notes, "Government
spending devoted to health care, education, environmental
sustainability, and infrastructure can generate
up to twice as many jobs per dollar as spending
on militarism."
The truth is the greatest cost of war in Iraq
has been a moral one. This war has taken a serious
toll on our collective conscience as a nation. Like
the sun tucked away behind a steel curtain of winter
clouds, it's easy to wonder if peace will ever return.
I was on a walk with my son a few weeks ago when I spotted
the first green fingers of spring popping up from
the earth. Maybe you too have seen them. I recognized
the budded heads of daffodils waiting to unfurl
their yellow proclamation of spring. The sun peeked
through a gilded cloudscape and hushed the bitter
wind. It felt like God was taking notice of us.
In this winter-weary Holy Week, when Christians
lament human brokenness and Americans ache for an
end to war, I believe that we will discover that
death does not have the last word. Psalm 20 says
"some trust in chariots, and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God."
Our hope, therefore, is not in the power of Empire
or the might of a multitude of soldiers. Our hope
is in the God who is always brining new life out
of death. Like Jana El Horr, perhaps in this hope
we will discover true security.
Also
this week, we welcome you to explore the 2008
Passover Haggadah Supplement:
A powerful Jewish tradition of mediation.
Peace!
