“STONES OF ANGER”
Dr. Stephen D. Jones
John 10;22-39, Mark 10:32
March 9, 2008
There were several
attempts on Jesus’ life, according to the author of the Gospel of John. On two
occasions, Jesus came close to being stoned. Being stoned is not the psychedelic
drug experience that comes to mind today. It was a form of capital
punishment. The Apostle Stephen was the first Christian martyr, and he was
stoned to death.
“Biblical law
punishes the following offenses with stoning: worship of other gods (Deuteronomy
17:2-7); idolatry (Deuteronomy 13:10-16); blasphemy (Leviticus 24:15-16);
Sabbath-breaking (Numbers 15:32-36); adultery (Deuteronomy 22:22-23). There were
18 different crimes. As Palestine is a country full of stones, pelting someone
with stones. . .was a common expression of mob anger and hatred (I Samuel 30:6;
I Kings 12:18)” (p. 447, Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, vol.
4).
“Stoning is the
most frequently mentioned form of capital punishment in the Old
Testament. Perhaps it was used in cases affecting the community at large because
it involved the maximum participation of the community. . .” (95) “The Jews
detested the Roman practice of crucifixion. . .” (p. 394, Dictionary
of NT Theology, vol. 1). It was too cruel. But with the Romans in charge,
the only form of state-imposed death was crucifixion, and it was chosen
precisely to induce fear in law-breakers.
Stoning as
“execution took place outside the city. The witnesses placed their hands on the
head of the criminal in token that the guilt rested on him. They laid aside any
clothing that might impede their solemn duty. In cases of idolatry. . .the
witnesses hurled the first stones” (p. 582, Westminster Dictionary of
the Bible).
As the Gospel of
John continues, Jesus is increasingly divisive, radical and confrontational. The
impending crisis of his life, his growing conflict with authorities, is
unmistakable.
In John’s Gospel,
at the last minute, Jesus decided to attend the Festival of Booths in
Jerusalem. Many people were “looking for him at the festival. . .” (John
7:11) “And there was considerable complaining about him among the
crowds. While some were saying, ‘He is a good man,’ others were saying, ‘No he
is deceiving the crowd.’ Yet no one would speak openly about him for fear of the
Temple authorities” (7:12-13).
And “some in the crowd believed in him and were saying, ‘When the Messiah comes,
will he do more signs that this man has done?’” The chief priests and Pharisees
sent the Temple police to arrest him.” (7:31-32)
On the final day of the Festival, “there was division in the crowd because of
Jesus. Some of them wanted to arrest him, but no one laid hands on him”
(7:43-44). “The Temple Police returned to the chief priests”
empty-handed, and they were asked, ‘Why did you not arrest him as we charged you
to do?’ And the police answered, ‘Never has anyone spoken like this!’ And the
authorities responded, ‘Surely he has not deceived you also?’” (7:46-47)
The debate
continued. Jesus said to the authorities, “You are from your father, the devil,
and you choose to do your father’s desires” (8:44). And
they responded, “Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a
demon?” Jesus responded, “I honor my Father in heaven and you dishonor me.”
At the end of this
heated discourse, the authorities picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus
hid himself (among the crowds) and went out of the Temple” (8:59).
Outside the Temple,
Jesus healed a man on the Sabbath, and that man was brought before the
Pharisees. “And they were divided” (9:16c). “Some said, ‘This man is not
from God for he does not observe the Sabbath.’ But others said, ‘How can a
sinner perform such signs?’” (9:16ab). The man who had been healed said
to those disbelieving, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where
Jesus comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. . .Never since the world began has
it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man
were not from God, he could do nothing.” Assuming that his being blind was the
man’s fault, the authorities said to him, “You were born entirely in sin and you
are trying to teach us?” (9:34).
And they drove him out.
The Jewish
authorities “were divided because of his words. Many of them were saying, ‘He
has a demon and is out of his mind. Why listen to him?’ Others were saying,
‘These are not the words of one who has a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of
the blind?’” (9:19-20).
More time
passed. The Festival of Dedication, which we know today as Hanukkah, was at
hand. And the leaders again gathered around him and asked, “How long will you
keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly” (10:24). And
Jesus answered, “I have told you and you do not believe.” And he concluded, “The
Father and I are one” (10:30).
A beloved Jewish
expression of faith was, “The Lord God Sabaoth is One” (Deuteronomy 6:4). And so
the offended leaders took up stones again to stone him.
Here are two high
profile Festivals in Jerusalem, with the city jammed with pilgrims, when the
religious fervor was so intense. And Jesus appeared in the Temple, and his
teaching led to confrontation. The exchange became angry. The odds were not in
Jesus’ favor. Clearly out-numbered, he stood alone. Only his popularity with
certain elements of the crowd protected him from being arrested and stoned. The
crowd is divided: is he the Messiah, or is he a fraud?
Either he was the
biggest fraud to ever walk the face of the earth, or he was God’s only begotten
Son.
Is this still not
our choice? And are our hearts also divided? For if he is the Messiah, God’s
Promised One, then do we not have to take his teachings, his actions, his
summons as if they come from God? If he is the Messiah, can we hold back? If he
is so radical, can we be mellow? I just learned that there is a church in St.
Louis called the Mellow Church. Can there be such a thing as a mellow follower
of Jesus?
If he is a fraud,
merely a side-show, do we not have to defeat him, disregard him, shut him up,
once and for all?
Why couldn’t Jesus
have just backed off a bit? Why not tone down the rhetoric? Why not stay away
from the second Festival since the first went so poorly? Couldn’t he have
offered a cooling off period and stayed back in Galilee?
Jesus was hard to
ignore in first century Judea. Whenever he went to Jerusalem, the controversy
and threat heightened. Try as they might to rise above his threat, the Temple
authorities simply could not ignore him, or snub his popularity with the crowds,
or look the other away in the face of his signs, wonders and miracles. Jesus was
in their face.
But Jesus is also
in our faces. And it is as maddening to us as it was to those whom he confronted
in the first century. So he confronts us. Standing before us, towering over
time, causing the interceding centuries to disappear, Jesus was dangerous then,
and he is dangerous today. He placed dangerous choices before his listeners then
and now. He forces us to decide, about him, about God, about our call, about the
meaning of our lives, about what we are willing to die for.
And we are as
unhappy with his choices as were those depicted in John’s Gospel. His call is
radical. And we want moderation. His call is bold, and we want mild. His call is
challenging, and we want mellow. He offers sharp edges, and we want rounded.
Friends, we gather
in this Sanctuary of the Beatitudes, and those who designed this worship space
might not have had our best interest in mind. Do you realize that these windows
surrounding us are extreme? That they depict the most counter-intuitive, radical
and revolutionary teachings of Jesus Christ? His teachings turn us upside
down. “Blessed,” he said, “is everything we don’t respect. Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are the poor
in spirit. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Blessed
are those who are persecuted. Blessed are you when people revile you and
persecute you and utter all kinds of evil things against you falsely. . .”
(Matthew 5). Nobody believes that.
And so we sit here
in this counter-intuitive room, celebrating teachings that we simply cannot take
seriously if we are to live in this world. The meek are failures in
business. It’s those who will fight for what they believe, not the peacemakers,
whom we admire. We feel sorry for those who mourn. We feel sorry for the poor in
spirit, for those who are persecuted and reviled. But we don’t model our lives
after them.
It’s
outrageous. It’s maddening. Can Jesus’ ways truly be God’s ways? Didn’t he get
just a little carried away? Just as the Temple leaders of his day, don’t we also
get angry and disturbed by the choices Jesus places before us?
The simple truth is
that Christianity is decisional. Jesus demands a decision from us. Not just
once, but daily. He requires a choice. He won’t leave it alone, he won’t leave
us alone, he won’t back off. It won’t do any good to say that I inherited my
faith. That’s not an acceptable answer to Jesus. Christianity is a crossroads
faith. It carries you to intersections where you have to choose between a
narrow, winding path and a wide and broad path. You choose! Today!
But, we protest. I
don’t want to choose. I don’t want to decide. I don’t want to be on the
spot. Why does it have to be this way? Jesus wants your heart, your
allegiance. He wants you to place your faith and trust and hope in him.
Isn’t it
maddening? Just back off, Jesus. Just back away. Give us some room to
breathe. He’s making us uncomfortable. First, let me go back and bury my
father. First, let me get my affairs in order. First, let me establish my
career, my nest egg.
And yet he is
standing before you and me, waiting for our answer. Towering over history as if
yesterday were today, as if 2000 years had vaporized, he stands before us,
placing the same choices as he did to the crowds in Jerusalem. “Back off, Jesus,
or I’ll pick up this stone and then you’ll back off.” “Quit coming to our
Festivals, Jesus.” “Stay away.”
He cried out, “You
know me, and you know where I am from. And you know the One who sent me”
(7:28). On the great day of the Festival, he cried out, “Let anyone who is
thirsty, come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”
Surely we are
thirsty. Our souls thirst for truth, for purpose, for meaning, for relief. “Come
to me,” he cries out even today.
Bonhoeffer wrote,
"For his disciples, until that day when Jesus arrived by the lake or by the
tollbooth and said to them, 'Follow me,'. . .they could remain in obscurity,
pursuing their work as the quiet in the land, observing the law and waiting for
the coming of the Messiah. But now he has come, and his call goes forth. Faith
can no longer mean sitting still and waiting—they must rise and follow him” (p.
67-68, Cost of Discipleship).
Tom Sine says it is
understandable that Jesus is so upsetting to us: “Jesus is an extremist and we
are all moderates.” (p. 23, Taking Discipleship Seriously)
This
Jesus is dangerous! Or just delirious!
The words he speaks seem so preposterous!
His claims, incredulous! It makes us so furious!
This Jesus is dangerous.
Some took up stones
of anger. Their minds were made up. They had heard enough. Let’s be rid of him.
Let’s see if his blood runs red, just like everyone else. Let’s see how he
stands up to a good stoning. Let’s see how he will talk his way out of
this. “You, you, throw the first stone. Go ahead. We’re right behind you. Go
on. You know he deserves it. Go on!”
Our stones of anger
today are not rocks. They are the casual ways we disregard Jesus, the way we
dumb-down his message in order to build up churches, the way we tone-down his
summons, the way we domesticate his radical teachings, the way we keep him an
interesting relic of the past.
And yet just when
we think we have Jesus stuffed away like some museum artifact, he breaks out of
our stained glass windows to prick our conscience, to whisper in our ear, to
speak to our restless soul, and again we have to face his clarion call.
He says, “I know
the One who calls you by name. I know the One who calls you his own. I know the
One who beckons you to turn around and walk in a new direction.” And we say
back, “Don’t say my name. Keep my name out of this. Don’t call me out. Don’t
look within me. Just leave me alone.”
We structure church
and worship so as not to encounter him. We say our prayers so as not to address
him. We keep talking so as not to listen for him. We rush about so as not to
wait upon him. We walk away so as not to encounter him along life’s lonely path.
But it won’t
work. Never has. Some years back there was a popular Broadway musical entitled,
“Your Arms’ Too Short to Box with God.” And it’s true. We’re up against far more
than we can reckon with. We may not know his name, but he knows ours. We may not
recognize his Presence, but he knows us down to the hairs on our head. We can
keep on running, avoiding, and looking away, but that becomes so exhausting.
No, comes the time
we finally have to decide, just as those standing in the Temple during the
Festivals had to decide: Is Jesus for real? Does he have any claims to the
truth? Does he really know my name? Do I have to take him seriously? Is he
really God’s beloved son? What will I do with him? What does he mean to me?
Would he walk up to me and say, “Follow me”?
For 2,000 years,
people have had to face this question: what will I do with Jesus? Is he just an
historical figure? Did he even exist? Is he alive today?
What are we going
to do with him, anyway? God calls. Jesus stands before us. And we will
answer. Just as Jesus demanded of those in the Temple, among the crowd, of the
authorities, he also demands of us today, of you, of me, of all who hear his
voice.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
had to get out of Nazi Germany. He had taken on Adolph Hitler and the Nazi
State, and it was getting too hot. So he came to New York City to teach at Union
Seminary. He ended up staying only a month, even though his friends tried to
dissuade him. To return to Germany meant almost certain persecution and possible
death. Bonhoeffer said, “I have no right to participate in the reconstruction of
Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the tribulations of
this time with my people.” Bonhoeffer had written five years before, “Jesus
says that every Christian has his own cross waiting for him, a cross destined
and appointed by God. Each must endure his allotted share of suffering and
rejection” (p. 98, Cost of Discipleship). Bonhoeffer returned to
Germany. One of the 20th century's most brilliant theologians, he was
imprisoned for years and killed by the Nazi’s just before his death camp was
liberated.
This
Jesus is dangerous! Or just delirious!
The words he speaks seem so preposterous!
His claims, incredulous! It makes us so furious!
This Jesus is dangerous.
And you pick up a
stone from the ground to defend yourself. To make him back away. Will you throw
the stone, or drop it, and open your hands and arms and await his loving
embrace?
The choices he
places before us are frightening. But he is not. He embodies God’s unconditional
love for you and me. And he stands ready to embrace us in the midst of life’s
crossroads. Amen.
