Incognito -- March 28, 2010
INCOGNITO
Luke 19:28-40
A tale from The Gospel of Sri RamaKrishna tells of an Indian holy man who taught his disciples to see God in all things. One day while the disciples were deep in the forest gathering wood for a sacrificial fire, they heard a voice shouting: “Out of the way! Out of the way! A mad elephant is coming!” The disciples scattered as the crashing and shouting became louder, running through the woods for their lives. Through the trees and over bushes they dove . . . all except one young disciple, who, kneeling directly in the path of the charging beast, began to sing its praises. The Mahout who was driving the elephant yelled frantically to the young disciple. However, the boy remained in place. Closer and closer the animal bore down on the singing disciple, trunk swinging, saliva flying, pounding up clouds of road dust. The Mahout yelled. The boy sang on. Finally the elephant reached the kneeling boy, seized him with its trunk, tossed him aside and charged on. The other disciples carried the boy home, limp and unconscious – but still breathing. Some time later, when the injured young man opened his eyes, his teacher asked why he had not run from the elephant. The boy protested: “You taught us that all creatures are manifestations of God. Why should I have made way for that elephant? I am God. The elephant is God. Should God be afraid of God?” The holy man smiled: “Yes, my child, it is true that you are God and that the elephant is also God. But why did you not listen when God’s voice called out from the Mahout telling you to run away?
Sri RamaKrishna’s whimsical story is trying to tell us something about the importance of recognizing God when God comes to us. That is also – more or less – what Luke is saying. Luke is much more cautious in describing Jesus’ jubilant entrance into the holy city than are the other Gospel writers. Luke’s account is smaller, quieter, more subdued. There are no enthusiastic crowds, no hosannas, no palm branches. Just the disciples, a few Pharisees, a colt, and some stones. Only those who had seen Jesus’ “deeds of power” join in announcing his entry into Jerusalem. Only his disciples call him “king.” It is not an eschatological event as it is for Mark who has the crowds blessing the coming kingdom. It is not a political event as suggested in the other three accounts by the nationalistic overtones of the palm waving. It is instead a picture of the God of peace calling on humankind. Luke wants to emphasize that, in Jesus, God had “come calling” on Jerusalem – bringing the peace announced by the herald angels on the night of Jesus’ birth. And, Luke wants it to be clear that it’s a visit that requires recognition and response.
On Palm Sunday, Jesus begins his visitation of Jerusalem – God coming incognito into the midst of the people. God “visits” the people the way health inspectors visit restaurants – without warning and concealed as an ordinary person. During Holy Week, the visitation does not go well, in spite of all the joy apparent on Palm Sunday. In fact, by Friday the people are at their worst. There will be no peace because the people have not recognized the time of their visitation.
The Pharisees complain about the modest demonstration, and Jesus replies: “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” If the people fail to recognize God’s coming, or to embrace the things that make for peace, or to render appropriate praise, then inorganic nature will. As he nears the city, Jesus weeps over it, saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. . . you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.”
God comes to visit us incognito. This is not something God did with Israel only; it happens with us today. When the Word of God is preached, it is indeed God’s word to us, though it comes clothed with human words. But it is not only in preaching that God’s visitation occurs. Remember the strong words that come to us in the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew? When, O Lord, did we see youhungry, thirsty, naked, sick, a stranger, in prison? The blessed have responded well in the time of their visitation, and they will have peace. The cursed have been found wanting, and there will be no peace for them. God continues the incognito visitations. God meets us when we do not expect it – not only in our worship and in our religious life when we are ready. God meets us in our corporate life, in our community, in the poor, in those with whom we deal in our daily, nonreligious lives.
The presence of God in our midst is not always the same. That is precisely what “visitation” implies. Rather, God’s presence is like an unscheduled train pulling into a station. Those who are ready and see it can get on. Those who do not cannot catch it when it leaves.
How is it that we so often end up standing around on the road in downtown Jerusalem while the disciples are stripping off their cloaks and singing with a loud voice and Jesus is weeping? How is it that we who are so well-intentioned wind up mingling our mutterings with the Pharisees? Can it be – how can it be – that we are ever among those who “do not know what makes for peace,” who have shut their eyes to God’s coming, who do not know the time of their visitation, who inspire our Lord’s tears? Yet it is so.
In an early episode of the TV show The West Wing, the president is asked to pardon someone. It is very questionable, highly controversial. He is visited by a Protestant pastor, who speaks of peace and the need to extend mercy. He is visited by a rabbi, who speaks of peace and the need to extend mercy. He is visited by a priest, who speaks of peace and the need to extend mercy. Later, as he consults with his advisor, the president laments: “If only God would tell me what to do.” His advisor quietly responds: “But God already has.”
On Palm Sunday some people seemed to recognize Jesus. Friday showed that none of them really knew the time of visitation. We are more like the Palm Sunday people than we like to think. We do not always know the things that make for peace; we do not know the time of our visitation. What can the future hold for us?
Thankfully, Palm Sunday is not the last word of the gospel, nor is Good Friday. We may try to pass by this God who visits us incognito, but God will not let us. That is the message of Easter, and Easter is the last word. In Jesus Christ, the peace of God came calling. In Jesus Christ, God comes still. The visitations continue, and with them, the renewed possibility that we might finally recognize the things that lead to peace, and choose them. This is the possibility that Holy Week brings to us. Let us make a path through the stones of our lives – for the entry of peace.