Julia Jackson’s way is God’s way

Sermon on Matthew 16: 21-28

6 months have I been with you now. 6 months that feel like a lifetime. So much has happened since March. It seems like the world stopped turning and speeded up all at once.

“I see red” I preached on Pentecost just after the deaths of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. I still see red. The fires aren’t contained yet. Neither the fires all around us in California nor the fires of hate and divide in our country, the fires of racism and injustice. They are all actively eating their way through this country. Leaving me at times numb and hopeless.

A few days ago, I watched the mother of Jacob Blake, Julia Jackson, during a press conference. Jacob Blake was shot seven times in the back. He was unarmed. The press conference started off with prayers by the family’s pastor. And by Jacob’s father, a practicing Muslim.

Then, Jacob’s mom Julia spoke. What a strong woman, what a strong faith. She preached to us about God’s beautiful creation of human beings. About the healing her son needs and the healing this nation needs. To be the United States of America. Not the divided ones.

At the end, Julia showed how to do this. She said that she prays for the police officers as well as for all the other people who are hurting right now. That brought me to tears. A mom, whose son is paralyzed because an officer shot him in the back seven times, praying for the police. A mom, taking up her cross, following Jesus by praying for others to overcome her own pain and loss.

This press conference was a full worship service. A time of prayer, Gospel, forgiveness, and call for healing, spreading truth and hope alike. It was everything we need right now.

Julia carries her cross. Not in any romanticized way. Not like saying: This happened for a purpose, this was God’s will for her son to suffer so that we all would learn something. So that the NBA would postpone their games to make sure everyone hears the message that Black lives matter. That it’s not ok to just keep shooting unarmed people.

To carry one’s cross can be understood in different ways. We can take it in the sense that calls us to follow Jesus to the point of sacrifice. People feel invited to suffer for a greater good, they might even find joy in their struggle. Knowing that Jesus went before them. I hold people like this in high respect. I am just not one of them.

Sometimes, it’s fairly easy to see the redemptive part of our suffering. Like: If I give up some of my personal freedom to travel wherever I want, whenever I want and if I wear a mask (and hide my double chin), the people around me are much more likely to stay healthy. My sacrifices are notable and regrettable. But I also get to feel like a true hero every time I wear my mask. I even feel like a greater hero when my kids naturally wear their masks now without complaining. It’s never been easier to do the right thing than now when turning into a couch- potato is the new ideal. Just make sure you have internet access and food.

Others hear the call to carry one’s cross with the background music of unholy oppression. For centuries, the oppressed, the suffering, the marginalized have been told to just bear their cross. Slaves have heard this from their masters. For they would be rewarded in a life after death. They can tell us that not all struggle is sacrificial or even beneficial. Often, it’s simply unfair or straight out evil. Like being shot for being Black or Brown. It’s wrong, it’s unnecessary, it doesn’t serve any other purpose than shooting Black or Brown people.

There is a third way to hear these words. “Carry your cross” simply recognizes the fact that suffering happens. It doesn’t need to serve a purpose. It’s nothing we choose to be closer to Jesus. It just happens. It finds us. Like the smoke creeping through the cracks in the wall and through windows accidentally left open. Like the Coronavirus appearing out of nowhere and suddenly it shapes our entire life. It just starts and the moment we are aware of it our life changes. Our priorities change. There is no way back.

That’s where Jacob’s mom Julia finds herself right now. At a crossroad. Her life has been changed forever through her son’s injuries. And I know, many of you have had that experience of getting a bad diagnosis for you or a friend. You all know, how this moment changes everything. There is no way back and no easy way out. And sometimes, there is no way out at all.

The one and often only good thing there is in all suffering is this. Whether you choose it or embrace it or resist it, Christ is present with you in your suffering. Suffering should never be spiritualized. And it should not be justified. And it should regularly be resisted, particularly as we are moved to resist the actions and systems that we undertake or in which we are involved that increase the suffering of others. But that’s for sure, suffering – chosen and sacrificial or unbidden and at times even unholy – will find us. And Christ will find us.

In all these things, not just Christ’s cross is present, not just the suffering and humiliation, not just the hope. In all these things Christ himself is present – holding us, lamenting with us, encouraging us, and promising us the strength to endure.

In all these things Christ is there walking with us until we have endured. Yes, Christ is with us in our homes right now. In our living rooms we have seen way too much in the past months. In our backyards we love but would love to fill with people we miss. Christ is with us in our fear of fires and the virus. Christ is with us in our sleepless nights when we wonder what the heck is going to happen in the next 6 months. Can’t be much more surprising than the last 6 months, I guess.

And Christ will be there to help us flourish again and to help others do the same. Like really in the little things right now. When my kids make us lemonade because they can feel that we are so stressed out. That’s Christ right there for me. That’s like holy communion. When we will be giving out 70 backpacks to kids in Newark and Fremont this coming week. That’s Christ working through us. Blessing people with one thing less to worry about for their kids.

“Who am I to you?”, Jesus asked his friends last Sunday. And Peter shined with the correct answer: You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God. We probably all agree: That Messiah shouldn’t have to die or suffer. That’s nothing Sons of God ought to do. They are supposed to show strength and fight back and put the evil powers in their place. At least that was Peter’s hope. And, mine too. It’s not always fun to believe in a God who is almighty and all everything but doesn’t step in powerfully with a sword in one hand and a huge gift to us faithful people in the other hand.

Back then just like today, many people look for a strong man to save them. Peter says what I have thought so many times: “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” And Peter is right. Because it shouldn’t ever happen to anyone. No one should ever suffer like Jesus did. And yet, the truth is, it happens every day, every minute, every second in our world.

God chose not to be our dictator. God chose the opposite way. God stopped the game of power and the circle of violence and introduced a different logic. One that runs by forgiveness, mercy and love. Instead of retribution, violence and hate. God challenges the powers by refusing to play their game of power.

Jacob’s mom Julia believes in God’s power. In the midst of her son’s suffering she carries her cross and calls this nation to unity. She speaks of healing and true reconciliation. I would have totally understood if she had started screaming and yelling and swearing at her son’s perpetrators. But what she did instead was unbelievably powerful. She chose the way of forgiveness, mercy and love. This mother’s tragedy, her grief for her only biological son, turned into prayer for police officers and people with hurting hearts and souls, this mother showed a way out of America’s original sin. The way out is God’s way. Like with every sin. The way out is to challenge the powers by refusing to play their power games of blaming and shaming. The way out is a rooted in forgiveness, mercy and love. And it will necessarily need justice and it will lead to peace. Paul summarizes the idea short and well in todays reading from the letter to the Romans: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” It could be so easy. What if it was?

Amen.