It’s kind of funny how whenever we want to act out something from Jesus’ life in our worship settings we tend to choose the kind of campy celebratory stuff like the procession on Palm Sunday or the Nativity Story – you know, the stuff that is great mythology but dubious history at best? Funny how we never choose to act out in a real and concrete way Jesus acts of forgiveness, or the fact that he criticized the stuffed shirts who run churches, or the government that oppresses people, or that he wasn’t afraid to touch lepers and others his church called unclean, isn’t it? What are the odds of somebody who smelled bad being welcome in your church? Funny how we never want to act out in a real and concrete way his forgiveness of those his society deemed sinners and his love of those his society kicked to the curb, isn’t it?

No, it isn’t. In fact, it’s sickening. It’s sickening that our churches and what passes for worship is everything Jesus despised, and so are we. If we really gave a damn, we’d talk about that on Easter Sunday this weekend, but in the institutional church they won’t talk about that because if they did the congregation, the good and holy people who love play acting but avoid transformation like it’s a sexually transmitted illness, would summarily crucify the pastor – and the odds are that pastor wants to stay as far away from crucifixion as he can. How’s that for irony?