“…for fear of the
Jews” – John 20:19
The sacrifice
acceptable to God is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite
heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. - Psalm 51:17 RSV
We traditionally read John
20:19-23(24-31) twice a year: the Sunday after Easter Sunday and fifty days
after Easter on the Day of Pentecost. As one who had at one time considered
converting to the religion of Jesus, and as one who concluded my college career
writing a dissertation on the then complete works of Elie Wiesel (it was 1972),
reading and re-reading this passage from the fourth gospel has repeatedly
broken my spirit and my heart. The thought that the disciples, not just the ten
but rather a mixed crowd of those who followed Jesus into Jerusalem the week of
the Passover and witnessed the brutality of the Empire and its state-sponsored
torture and execution of three young men, are afraid of “the Jews” is strange.
It makes perfect sense, however, that if you were a follower of Jesus that you
would be hiding behind locked doors. Yet, it is at best confusing to read, “the
doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews…”
It's the fourth gospel’s repeated use of the phrase, “…for
fear of the Jews” that breaks my spirit and my heart. There can be no doubt
that this passage, and others like it, has been used throughout the ages from the
very beginnings of the early church to this day to justify vilification and
violence against the Jewish people. Despite the obvious fact that Jesus and
most of his followers were themselves Jewish – daughters and sons of the people
of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob/Israel.
It won’t do to simply explain that the fourth gospel’s use
of “the Jews” has mixed and varied meaning throughout the narrative: referring
to the ethnically, culturally and religiously diverse crowds in Jerusalem every
Passover; to the Jewish authorities, many of whom are on the payroll of Rome to
“keep the peace;” to the mixed “opponents” of the Jesus movement made up
variously of Scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees. The fact of the matter was that
the Jewish population of Galilee, Judea and Jerusalem was divided along many
religious and political lines.
Lumping them all together is always the strategy of those
who seek to capitalize on such divisions. As is pressuring some of those the
oppressed to “manage” their “own people,” or be subject to the Empire’s
brutalizing tactics yourself. A day spent in the US Holocaust Museum will help
to understand all of this.
I would like very much not to have to get into this, but as
the internet has made it possible for anti-Semitic groups to organize and find
new improved ways to carry out similar vilifying and brutalizing tactics, to
say nothing in the midst of Christian proclamation on this passage would be
tantamount to allowing all this to go unnoticed and unopposed.
Just as dangerous is for Christians to assume that the
ritual passed on regarding the forgiveness and releasing of sins is somehow new
and uniquely “Christian.” As Richard Swanson observes, “When Christians imagine
this, they are wrong. Or they are dangerous. Those would be the choices” [Provoking
the Gospel of John (Pilgrim Press, Cleveland:2010) p.170]
Swanson correctly points out that the rituals of
releasing/forgiving or retaining sins have a deep history in Jewish faith,
especially on Yom Kippur, the high holy Day of Atonement when Jews seek to
repair the damage that we do to one another. It is a day to confess sin and
forgive sin. It is a time to take stock and make amends. If I had in any way
cheated or otherwise sinned against you I would seek your forgiveness and offer
to make amends. You can accept or reject my confession and offer of amends. I
can return two more times. You can accept or reject my confession and offer of
amends three times. I can then approach God for forgiveness. But if I am
rejected a third, I retain the sin – and the offended individual retains the
pain and suffering.
It’s a process. And we may as well admit it: some abuses are
hard to forgive. Elie Wiesel when asked about forgiving the perpetrators of the
Holocaust noted that he did not have the authority to speak for the millions of
people, Jews, Gypsies, Invalid and Mentally Handicapped, and political
opponents who were killed in the death camps. In our passage in John, Thomas
recalls the torture, abuse and brutal execution two days previous. He asks to
see the wounds of the risen Jesus. Thomas is to be commended for his courage,
his memory and his integrity – and in no way deserves the slander of being
called “Doubting Thomas.”
Thomas knows what we all know in our hearts: “Any
resurrection, any resolution, and recovery [from abuse] that moves forward by
forgetting the past will be insubstantial. Any moving forward that forgets the
victims of past torture [and abuse] will be ill-prepared to deal with the
continuing reality of violence and abuse.” [Ibid, p. 173] And we are those
people keenly aware that it continues even in among those highest in our
corporate, religious, military, sports and political spheres. We read about it
every day. And frequently the victims are made to feel shamed or guilty of
provoking the abuse. Consider the now established fact that in Maryland, and
across the country, there are in storage thousands upon thousands of rape-kits
that have never been processed to determine the veracity of allegations by the
victims.
So Jesus breathes upon his disciples as a reminder. God my
Father gives you breath to live and light to see through the darkness. This
breath is God’s spirit that seeks “peace,” or “Shalom”: peace that secures
justice and dignity for all people; not some people, not most people, but all
people. This is what is meant by “Peace be with you.” And this breath is a
reminder that all people, not just God, not just God in Christ, not just
Christians, have the capacity and the responsibility to forgive or retain sins.
That is, the charges against Jesus are bogus, as are any and all notions that
this is some uniquely new Christian ritual.
“That is why,” concludes Swanson, “the scene with Thomas
belongs with the scene in which Jesus talks about releasing and holding the
memory of abuse. That is why the matter of forgiving is not as simple as
abusers insist that it must be.” [Ibid, 173]
Jesus breathes on us. The word means puff, as if puffing on
a fire with a bellows, of blowing on a dying ember to bring it from smoking to
smoldering to a blazing fire of life, intensity and power. Jesus is literally
meaning to set our hearts on fire to be those people in this world who like
Thomas have the courage and integrity to name the wounds that cripple our
society and become engaged in bringing peace, true Shalom, to all those who
suffer and are oppressed in any way whatsoever. This is why the Word of God
became flesh and lived among us. We owe it to him to become a refining fire for
the life of all people and the world itself. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment