Lent 5B: A Priest after the Order of Melchizedek
In John 12:21 we are told that “among those who went up to
worship at the Passover Festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was
from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, ‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus.’” As
soon as I read this, I recall a time just after I had been ordained a priest in
December 1983. I was at Christ Church in Winnetka, IL and part of an active
Ecumenical Clergy Group. Bob Hudnut, the local Presbyterian pastor had invited
me to lunch and we met at his church. As he was showing me the sanctuary, Bob
was called away for a phone call and left me to explore on my own. Eventually,
I found myself standing in the pulpit gazing out at the rows of empty pews
imagining what it would be like on a Sunday morning, when my eyes glanced down
to where one might place notes or a manuscript and suddenly, I froze. Carved
into the wood where every time one would look down at one’s notes were the
words, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus!” It was a moment of transcendent realization
as to what my task is to be every time I preach: that whatever I say or do is
meant to help people like these Greeks in our text to see Jesus in new and
transformative ways. I caught my breath and was still standing there pondering
these words as Bob returned to take me to lunch.
To help us see Jesus happens also to be the primary concern
of whoever wrote the little treatise we call Hebrews. It used to be called the
Letter to the Hebrews, but it is neither a letter, nor is it necessarily
addressed to “Hebrews,” but rather seems likely to have been addressed to early
first or second century Christians in Rome, which very likely may have included
some Jews who resided there as well. Throughout this theological treatise, the
primary argument is that Jesus is a new kind of High Priest, which immediately
ought to strike one as ironic since in John’s gospel it is the High Priest
Caiaphas who suggests that Jesus needs to be killed to save the community from
destruction by Rome. Which of course did happen anyway some 40 years after
Jesus.
Caiaphas makes this suggestion because just before coming to
Jerusalem for the Passover festival, Jesus had stopped to see his friends in
Bethany, a suburb or Jerusalem, only to find his close friend Lazarus dead and
in a tomb for four days. Jesus drew a larger crowd of believers after raising
Lazarus from the dead. Caiaphas sees that if Jesus were to go on ‘performing
signs’ like this, “everyone will believe in him.” [John 11:48] It is this that
drives him to have Jesus arrested, and Lazarus as well since he is part of the
reason why, as the Pharisees proclaim in the verse just before our story,
“Look, the whole world has gone after him!” Which is confirmed by the arrival
of “some Greeks” who wish to see Jesus. We do too. That’s why we’re here.
The author of Hebrews in chapter 5, and indeed throughout
the treatise, makes an astonishing and curious claim: Jesus is a new kind of
High Priest “after the order of Melchizedek.” Melchizedek is mentioned only
twice in the Hebrew Bible: in Genesis 14 and again in Psalm 110. Melchizedek,
the king of Salem, translates as “king of righteousness, the king of peace.” His
singular appearance in Genesis is to Abraham, at the time still Abram, who had
just successfully defeated King Chedorlaomer of Elam and others to rescue his
nephew Lot, is visited by this King of Righteousness, King of Peace, who brings
Abram an offering of ‘bread and wine.’ Abram offers him a tithe. Melchizedek, “a
priest most high,” blesses Abram saying, “Blessed be Abram by God Most High,
maker of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High; who has delivered your
enemies into your hand!” And that’s the last he is ever seen until Hebrews
invokes him as the very kind of “priest most high” that is Jesus.
Curiously, in a book called “beginnings,” i.e., Genesis,
there is no indication where Melchizedek comes from or where he goes. So, Jesus
is like a high priest who has no beginning, and becomes a high priest who has
no end. And of whom it is said, the whole world is going after him, and who
declares he will draw the whole world to himself. This he says after he asks
his “Abba, Father” to glorify God’s own name, and a voice from heaven replies,
“I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” Some in the crowd who heard
it, which includes people from all over the ancient world like our Greeks,
thought perhaps it was thunder, while others think that it was an angel. But
Jesus assures them the voice was for their sake, saying, “Now is the judgment
of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am
lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to
indicate the kind of death he was to die.” [John 12:28-33] All people. The
community of Christ is to welcome all people.
Those like the authors of John and Hebrews see Jesus as a
“king of righteousness, the king of Peace,’ who comes not to condemn us, but to
draw us closer to himself and to his Father, Abba, YHWH, in an effort to redeem
all humankind and the world itself. On our better days, we too see Jesus in a
similar light – one who welcomes all people and goes so far as to instruct us
to pray for our enemies and those who persecute us. All people really means all
people.
As I write this, and indeed over the last year of the
Covid-19 Pandemic, violence against Asian-Americans, and in fact Southeast
Asians and Pacific Islanders worldwide, has increased, in part because of the
constant referring to the virus as the “China Virus.” The majority of
documented cases are against women. The recent mass shooting of South Koreans
and others in the Atlanta, GA, area has only been the most recent and most
attention-grabbing example of a kind of racism that has existed for decades if
not longer, even in regions as isolated as Australia and New Zealand, as well
as in Great Britain and Canada. As a member of an Asian-American family, all of
this is of great personal concern. Many of you know, our oldest daughter is
from South Korea. This makes our grandson Asian-American as well. The kinds of
yelling, spitting in the face and violence going on here and around the world must
stop.
As someone who realized long ago that all that I say and do
in the pulpit must help others to see Jesus, I can’t help but feel as if there
has been a colossal failure among all of us who are proclaimers of the faith
with the kinds of racism and violence against “others” that persists against
those who do not look just like us – despite the indisputable fact that we all
share fundamentally the same genetic code, the same DNA, and the same
biological beginnings as Jesus, Melchizedek, Abram and all the people of faith
we read and hear about week-in and week-out. Surely it grieves the King of
Righteousness, the King of Peace, the Most High Priest who gives us his body
and his blood, and who calls us to be a people of welcome and prayer for all
people. Not some. Not most, but all people. No matter what.
Next week is Palm Sunday and the beginning of the most Holy
Week of the year. As we become increasingly aware of the tragic results of
racism that infect us more deeply than any Pandemic ever can, our prayers in
this Holy Season must call us to be witnesses not only to the One we know as
King of Righteousness and King of Peace, but to vow, covenant, promise never to
remain silent as all the various kinds of racism and anti-Semitism persist all
around us. We must be those people who pray, but who also speak out against all
that goes against our Lord’s desire to draw all people, the whole world,
together as One, just as we and Christ are One. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment