The final week of Jesus’ life on earth is known as the “Passion Week.” Passion is a word that has changed over time; in this context, it is often confusing to those who are uninitiated in church lingo. Our current cultural context thinks about passion as being madly in love, in a steamy romantic way. Or, of one who is fully committed to their art, their music, their hobby, their cooking, or whatever. And after pondering these definitions of the word “passion,” we can better transition in seeing the passion that Jesus demonstrated as he heads towards the cross. He cares for all people, every tribe, tongue, and nation. Palm Sunday is a day of mixed emotions as we read the gospel stories. Jesus demonstrates his passion for all people in that he is fully committed and that he is expressing the fullest context of love for all people.
It is interesting to notice that the gospels give us a huge amount of information about this week, in comparison to the rest of Jesus’ earthly life. For the mature believer, it can prove to be a challenge to read these accounts with fresh eyes, being careful not to gloss over these familiar stories. We would be wise to read the Palm Sunday story with fresh eyes. Luke’s account (19:28-44) tells us that Jesus did not celebrate the day with the same giddy excitement as the multitudes did. He wept over Jerusalem as he rode into it because he knew, and prophesied, of their soon-coming season of difficulty (Lk 19:41). Think about this in contrast to popular church celebrations of Palm Sunday. It’s often a day when we sing “hosannah”, wave palm leaves, dress pretty, smile nicely at others, hear a story about Jesus riding on a donkey, and go home. We’ve accomplished a good churchy thing. Check!
What if we approached the day in the same way that Jesus did? How broken should I be when I observe the sin in my cultural context? How often do I weep for my city? My city is wracked with violence, corruption, and political turmoil; how about yours? How would Jesus react if he were to ride into our cities? Would he go to City Hall, the big church, or would he go to the homeless shelter?
Jesus was received with excitement from the crowds; they were anticipating that he had finally come to liberate them from the oppressive rule of their political rivals. They were hoping that Jesus was coming to be their new governing king, their messiah and savior. That is what the word “hosanna” means; it is a broad expression of the cry for help, “save us”! We know that Jesus did come to liberate, but not in the way the crowds anticipated. Jesus entered Jerusalem as a victorious King and a Savior because his coming death and resurrection would free us from demonic bondage and the power of death. Palm Sunday marks the day where Jesus declared the prophetic promises were at hand; they were beginning to happen.
Should I be declaring peace, prosperity, health, and comfort—all the aspirations of the American dream on this Palm Sunday? Or should it be about doing the hard work of preaching—and showing—the passion that Jesus has for the least, last, and lost? Does Jesus expect his church to do as he did?
The victory of the cross and resurrection is certainly a reason to celebrate. But what is Jesus saying as he weeps over Jerusalem on Palm Sunday? Trouble is coming. And in fact, it did, in successive waves that became more and more destructive in the years that followed—persecution—martyrdom—and a rapidly growing church in spite of all the chaos and trouble.
Is the trouble all around me—the trouble in my city—a precursor to the next spiritual awakening? Some Protestant church traditions spend very little time focused on the passion of Jesus or on his suffering on the cross; they quickly jump ahead to resurrection celebrations. I think this is unfortunate because, if we do this, we miss essential aspects of the passion Jesus expresses during this final week. His heart aches for broken people.
If you and I, like Jesus, knew we would suffer a horribly painful death within five days, our hearts and minds would be heavy. Palm Sunday begins with tears of sorrow for the lost. Each day for the coming week is filled with sobering conversations and concerns for the disciples—disciples who were oblivious to what was about to happen. Our contemporary context has just as much ignorance of what is happening in the spiritual realm today, as were the disciples of Jesus then. It is only after the trauma of the cross and resurrection that an awakening occurs. As we enter into this special week on the church calendar, my prayer is that my eyes will be open, that my ears will hear God’s voice, and that my heart will discern the things of the Holy Spirit, as we celebrate the work that Jesus has done for us all. I pray that the whole church will be ready to proclaim hope in the midst of trouble, rather than a hope that is centered on escapism.
Dr. John Miller Rev. John R. Miller, Ph.D. is an ordained pastor in Rochester, NY with Temple of Restoration Ministries International. He has a B.Div. from Trinity Seminary, CPE from the University of Rochester, a M.Div. from Northeastern Seminary, and a Ph.D. in Renewal Studies from Regent University. He teaches for Regent University and ministers at Northeastern Seminary. Additionally, he serves as the Pastor of Education for Living Word Temple of Restoration, which is a multiethnic and independent Pentecostal church in the city of Rochester, NY.
Brian Zahnd is the founder and lead pastor of Word of Life Church in Saint Joseph, Missouri. In Water to Wine describes his journey from charismatic evangelicalism to a broader or more eclectic view of the whole Christian Church. In nine chapters he describes the events that cause him to reconsider the basis for this transition, and the challenges that are presented along the way. Zahnd masterfully illustrates each point with heartwarming and confrontational memories, spiritual encounters, dreams, and recounts how each event has been a turning point in his personal walk with Jesus and how his pastoral leadership has been modified along the way. These illustrations bring life and humor to the book. It is a kind of a coming-of-age story for a senior pastor who is entering into the legacy-building years of ministry.
After years of what may be called “successful” ministry, Zahnd is challenged to reconsider theological and philosophical reasons that undergird why he was doing ministry as he previously had done. As he enters a sort of self-imposed seminary-style reading discipline, he begins to discover the wisdom and richness in classical and ancient church traditions, which had become lost, forgotten, or ignored by his own charismatic-flavored church milieu. He had been swept up in a type of pop-culture and how-to-be-successful church atmosphere, which was unable to draw from the wider experience of the whole Church. Additionally, this broader understanding was enhanced by the building of authentic relationships with people of other church traditions and international perspectives on what it means to be a Christian.
There are several compelling challenges that he brings to his readers. Here’s one example; he enlarges his previously held Evangelical Protestant views of the sacraments. Why is the Lord’s Supper minimized in the charismatic traditions, rather than seen as central in liturgical traditions? And along the way of changing the traditions of his own congregation, he shares the push-back from those who are not willing to go along with the change. Like any congregation, change comes hard, and typically at a cost.
Water to Wine has a sense of movement in it because it is recognizing a shifting in culture. As I write this book spotlight, on a book that is “already” six years old, culture is already showing signs of shifting even further. As we transition into a hopefully post-Covid era, we all recognize that there have been seismic shifts in global culture, the weaponizing of political mandates, and the instability of world leadership. Now, more than ever, we need the solid rock foundation that only Jesus provides. We need the rich heritage that twenty-one centuries of the whole Christian Church provides. This Church has stood the test of global wars, pandemics and plagues, and even shameful abuses of church power and politicized church leadership. Zahnd’s work here identifies a tipping point that will likely continue for some time forward. Our challenge is to recognize our times and to draw from the wisdom of the ages.
Dr. John Miller Rev. John R. Miller, Ph.D. is an ordained pastor in Rochester, NY with Temple of Restoration Ministries International. He has a B.Div. from Trinity Seminary, CPE from the University of Rochester, a M.Div. from Northeastern Seminary, and a Ph.D. in Renewal Studies from Regent University. He teaches for Regent University and ministers at Northeastern Seminary. Additionally, he serves as the Pastor of Education for Living Word Temple of Restoration, which is a multiethnic and independent Pentecostal church in the city of Rochester, NY.
Isaac Watts wrote, “When I survey the wonderous cross, on which the Prince of Glory died, my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.”
Let that sink in for a moment. Pour contempt on all my pride.
2) “Forbid it Lord, that I should boast, save in the death of Christ my God, all the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.”
3) “See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down, did err such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?”
4) “Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small, love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.”
Go back to verse three, and for those unfamiliar with hymns, verse three is always the best; “sorrow and love flowing mingled down”. It is a picture of Christ on the cross, taking our punishment, our sin, upon himself. Notice that it’s not just the blood that flowed down, but also the sorrow that flowed down, and most importantly, the love flowed down. “Did err such love and sorrow meet?” Was there ever a time when there so much sorrow and love flowing together?
In this day and time, I am compelled to talk about the sorrow that weighs heavily on my own heart. I want to share with you some of the things that I am wrestling with, in a very significant sort of way. I am compelled to tell you about the “one job” that I must do.
I was awakened this morning, about 2:30am, by the sound of gun shots. That’s where I live; where it seems that every day another person is shot at, and sometimes someone is murdered. Today, less than a mile from my house, someone was shot, but is still living. Praise the Lord, I’m right where God wants me to live.
I am compelled to speak about the racial tension in our nation. This is a subject that is near and dear to my heart. You have likely read other organization, college, and ministry antiracist statements, so I want to share with you “John Miller’s Antiracism Statement.”
I mourn the tragic and wrongful death of George Floyd. I am heartbroken during this time, and I deplore every instance of racism, police brutality and evil acts of violence. I stand in support of all efforts of peaceful protest. I must emphasize forcefully that I am completely against rioting, looting, the wholesale destruction of private property and the taking of innocent lives.
In John 11, Jesus wept when those around him were hurting. My response is also to weep; I weep over the divisions in our nation, and I am praying for restoration and healing.
I look to the LORD and His Word for guidance. 1 John 4 is clear in its charge to love one another and to place all our hope in Jesus Christ:
7 Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. 8 He who does not love does not know God, for God is love. 9 In this, the love of God was manifested toward us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him. 10 In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11 Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. (I John 4:7-11, NKJV)
Because love is a verb that requires clear action, I am committed now more than ever, to placing my hope in Jesus Christ and to living out Christ’s example of humility and love toward all. Like Jesus, I am convinced that love compels me to take action and to speak against racism.
I want to express my solidarity with the hundreds of thousands of people across the globe marching in the streets and holding vigils to protest the recent murders of: Ahmaud Arbery, Manuel Ellis, Breonna Taylor, Maurice Gordon, George Floyd, Tony McDade, and Rushard Brooks.
I condemn the police violence being unleashed upon peaceful protesters in several American cities and I mourn the deaths, in police custody, of countless other people of color of which we are yet unaware. I am proud of the many people who have been on the streets raising their voices and expressing their sorrow and outrage. I am heartened that so many groups of people representing all ages, ethnicities, genders, and political adherences have come together to join the Black Lives Matter movement in demanding an end to the systemic racism and police brutality that has allowed these horrific killings to continue unabated in the USA—not just in this year, but since the nation’s founding.
I grieve with the families who have lost loved ones to police violence and hate crimes. I recognize the many macro- and micro-aggressions people of color experience every day, including members of our own family, congregation, and community. I must do better. I must dismantle the structures of white supremacy and inequality that unjustly harm and disenfranchise entire communities while bestowing unearned privileges on others.
At the same time, while I grieve with all those mourning the deaths of loved ones who have been stricken with COVID-19, I recognize that this disease disproportionately affects people of color. Systemic racism is a public health crisis that sees communities of color chronically underserved. Moreover, people of color have been disproportionately affected by the economic downturn resulting from the COVID-19 pandemic.
It has never been enough to say that we are allies to the people of color in our communities and across the globe. As Angela Davis instructs us, “You have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world. And you have to do it all the time.”
Dismantling over four centuries of white supremacy and structural inequality is not something that will be done with good intentions alone. I must listen intently to those who have been harmed by racism and by micro-aggressions in our communities and beyond. I must be an active anti-racist in how I convene conversations in my home, school, office, and among friends.
To be actively anti-racist means that I educate myself on how unfair and uneven structures of power have benefited some and excluded others historically and continues to do so. It means thinking about how we got here and creating a vision and a commitment and a plan to do better.
I must speak up against racist behaviors regardless of where they occur. And I must accept criticism when I fail to deliver on my promise to be active anti-racist.
I believe that by working purposefully to be anti-racist, I can help create a community that is not only diverse and inclusive but is a model of how a community can begin to dismantle those centuries-old structures of unequal power and privilege and to treat everyone with abiding respect and dignity. I will work with those who are suffering to create a community in which each of us has a voice. Even more than this, I can equip future leaders with the critical tools they need to analyze and disassemble those power structures, and to be active and effective advocates for justice and equality wherever they go. [End of John Miller’s Antiracist Statement]
The gospel of Mark 10:17-21a is a familiar passage that has gripped me in a fresh way.
And as he was setting out on his journey, a man ran up and knelt before him and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.’” And he said to him, “Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth.” And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing…” (ESV)
Jesus said, “you lack one thing” and I begin to ask myself, what is the one thing that I lack? What does John Miller lack? And I come to this place of being challenged; am I doing the things that the Lord has asked me to do?
I don’t want to simply run through a checklist and find that my “one job” was left undone. I know, recently, that my “one job” is to be an advocate for authentic multiethnic ministry, and I do not say this for my own sake, but I desire to see clearly in every level of leadership and participation.
When I look at the list in Mark 10:17, I see the list of the commandments—all good things of course. But it’s like the man has his pen and checklist, ready to check items off the list. Have I done this? Check! Have I done that? Check!
When I look at my own ministry, do I begin to feel good about myself because I can check things off my list? Have I ministered? Check! Have I done missions? Check! Have I prayed enough? Check! Have I prophesied? Check! I’m a charismatic pentecostal Holy Spirit filled believer—check! Have I preached the gospel? Check! Walk in holiness? Check! But what’s the one thing that the Lord would challenge me with today?
Although I started off with my antiracist statement, I don’t want to put that on you because that might not be where God is challenging you today. Perhaps it is, but perhaps God has another thing for you. But I know for John Miller, I must ask myself, am I actively being, speaking, doing, and committing myself to be antiracist? I don’t want the Lord to say to me, that’s a great list you have there John, but you lack one thing. God says to me, there is one thing that I am asking you to do, that you have not yet completed in the way that I have desired for you to complete.
We know that the gospel is very active, and its demand and expectation is for the church to be socially engaged. The church is called to be an advocate for social justice. I am called to live in a community where I hear different languages and can interact with people from many cultures, right from the front stoop of my apartment.
The one thing that the Lord is asking me to be active about is to be an advocate for social justice and to be an antiracist activist. What does it look like to be antiracist? A part of it is written in my antiracist statement above—it is to always speak out when I encounter or hear racist statements and systems. And these can be ever so subtle. All of the little, tiny things that begin to add up. And if you are from a predominantly white conservative community (that’s my upbringing) I need to recognize that I’m not even speaking the same language (and I’m not referring to Ebonics). Maybe when I wrote my antiracist statement above, and you read that little phrase “Black Lives Matter” you had a reaction to it. Maybe your immediate response was, yes but, all lives matter. Or maybe, if you’ve had someone you love who was a police officer, killed in the line of duty, you’d say “blue lives matter”. Maybe my reaction is “white lives matter” or “blue lives matter” or “all lives matter”.
These reactions are symptomatic of the subtleness of racism creeps in, without realizing it. But don’t all lives matter? Perhaps you missed the point. Injustice needs to be confronted.
The point is this— there has been a disproportionate number of oppressive acts against people of color. That’s the point. It has never been a statement against any other people group “mattering”. I don’t need to be defensive. I don’t need to be argumentative. I don’t want to be like the man in Mark 10:17—I’ve done all that, only to have Jesus respond—you lack one thing.
Is it my pride, lack of humility, or a willingness to accept something that is very difficult for me to hear?
There are other statements along these same lines that may be difficult to accept. In my white-person motif, I may think I can—maybe even should—redefine the term “black lives matter” to make it fit my perspective. I may think I can redefine “social justice,” or “white privilege,” or any number of terms that challenge my viewpoint.
The church has been praying for revival. Is this one of the things that the Holy Spirit is challenging us with today? Is subtle racism the “one thing” that is preventing revival? Is the lack of multiethnic church leadership the current problem that God is confronting?
David Ireland brings a very homey illustration to evaluate our possible ethnic bias. He says, look back over the past six months and see how diverse your invited guests have been. What has been the ethnic mix? Is it truly multiethnic?
I know that you would likely be very welcoming of people who are unlike you, of other ethnicities, to come, participate, and join your church. But should it be the other way around? Should I choose to become part of a church community where I am the minority, where I am outside of my comfort zone? Am I willing to be the one person who is not like the others? Am I willing to put myself in an uncomfortable situation, or do I want to remain in my comfort zone? Am I willing to invest myself there (10+ years) in order to build authentic relationships? Time. It takes a long time to establish credibility. Why, because history has proven that trust takes a long time to build and minutes to destroy. My mindset must remain, I am willing to serve, to give, regardless of what I might receive in return.
In a racist society, it is not enough to be non-racist, I must be anti-racist. Which means, I must push back against the most subtle of racist statements, concepts, systems, and injustices.
Dr. John Miller Rev. John R. Miller, Ph.D. is an ordained pastor in Rochester, NY with Temple of Restoration Ministries International. He has a B.Div. from Trinity Seminary, CPE from the University of Rochester, a M.Div. from Northeastern Seminary, and a Ph.D. in Renewal Studies from Regent University. He teaches for Regent University and ministers at Northeastern Seminary. Additionally, he serves as the Pastor of Education for Living Word Temple of Restoration, which is a multiethnic and independent Pentecostal church in the city of Rochester, NY.
Talking in Tongues 