Livestreamed service

Mark 11:1-11
Philippians 2:5-11
an excerpt from Barbara Brown Taylor’s An Altar in the World

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was an elected official with the power to legislate and investigate, to divide and demean, to lift up or leave out, did not regard his power as something to be used and abused, but rather emptied himself, taking the form of a powerless outsider, a tireless crusader for peace and justice who’d committed civil disobedience so often that people no longer paid attention.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was cis-gender and heterosexual, did not regard his sexual identity and orientation as normative, but emptied himself, taking the form of a trans person, being born in a body that did not seem to belong to him.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was of sound body and mind, did not take his health or his capacity to make decisions about his medical care for granted, but emptied himself, taking the form of a pregnant woman facing life-threatening complications who could find no doctor willing to treat her.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he lived in an all-white gated community and had never feared for his safety, did not shut out the violence and suffering of the world, but emptied himself, taking the form of an orphaned Palestinian girl in Gaza who spent every waking hour wandering the bombed-out Jabaliya refugee camp searching for something—anything—to eat.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus who, though his ancestors had come to the so-called New World on the Mayflower, did not forget that he lived on stolen land and emptied himself, taking the form of a

        desperate Venezuelan mother who had walked for four months to reach the southern U.S. border so that her children might live.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was Lord of Love, Fount of Joy, and Afraid of None, did not regard his abundance as something to be protected, but emptied himself, being born into our weakness and fear, our loneliness, depression, and shame.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus of Nazareth, who, though finding himself in human form, did not live as though he were divine, but emptied himself, treating every person he met with compassion and respect, as though they were God incarnate.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus of Nazareth, who, though he knew the powers were gathering to crush him and could have retreated into the hills of Galilee and disappeared from sight, did not consider his own safety, but made himself even more vulnerable, staging an anti-imperial parody and riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, because he knew the people needed hope.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus of Nazareth, who, though he could have mobilized an anti-imperial rebellion with nothing more than a nod of his head, stayed true to the path of non-violence and humbled himself, exposing the injustice and brutality of empire.

        Let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus of Nazareth, who, though seemingly powerless and hemmed in on every side, did not consider himself without agency, but emptied himself and found freedom.

        Having lost control of what was happening both around him and to him, Jesus found freedom and agency in choosing how to respond.

        Having lost the loyalty and trust of his disciple Judas, Jesus found freedom in choosing to treat Judas with humility and grace—washing his feet and serving him at table.

        Having lost the capacity to determine his fate, Jesus found freedom in praying for the grace to accept whatever would happen.

        Having lost the control of movement as he was surrounded by soldiers in the garden, Jesus found freedom in insisting there would be no more violence.

        Having lost the control of his body as he was tortured and control of his story as he was interrogated, Jesus found freedom in choosing to stay grounded in the truth of his identity and purpose.

        And in his final agonizing moments, when Jesus lost even the sense that God was with him, he found the freedom to bestow God’s mercy and grace upon the criminals being crucified beside him.

        Even as Jesus endured both physical and spiritual pain and lost life itself, he found freedom and peace in choosing to trust that death was not the end.

        Beloveds, Jesus was not consigned to death by a vengeful God. He freely chose to embody God’s extravagant and reckless love so that we might learn to live in freedom and grace. Jesus always had agency, and we do, too. Jesus always had the freedom of choice, and so do we.

        So let the same freedom of mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who was there when darkness covered the face of the deep and a wildly creative God said “Let there be light.”

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who looked on when a repentant, love-sick God painted a multi-colored bow across the sky.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who whispered to the waters of the Red Sea, telling them to let God’s people pass through.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who wept over the horrible things God’s human images did to one another.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, whose homecoming parade for the Hebrew exiles was so fabulous that the trees clapped their hands.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who continued to love God’s people, no many how times they broke his heart.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who kept trying different ways to get closer to his beloveds, until one day it occurred to him: He would become one of them. He would come to know them from the inside out. He would do anything to show them the way to the fullness of life.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, whose first sight was not of his mother’s breast but the long, scratchy tongue of the cow who found him in her feeding trough.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who stayed up late every night trying to think of new, clearer ways to convey the love and mercy of God.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who washed his beloved disciples’ feet, lingering lovingly over every corn and callus.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who wept when he heard the cock crow the second time—not for himself, but for Peter, who had just denied him three times.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who, instead of saving himself, died a criminal’s death so that we might see that the path to new life is made by selfless caring for the least of these.

        Let the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus, who loved us with an everlasting love long before we were born.

        Let us be in the same mind, which is tenderness.

        Be in the same mind, which is mercy.

        Be in the same mind, which is longing.

        Be in the same mind, which is bearing the pain of others.

        Be in the same mind, which pours itself out for the sake of justice.

        Be in the same mind, which accepts the consequences.

        Be in the same mind, which is freedom.

        Be in the same mind, which is love.

        So that we might know God.

        So that we might know life.

        So that we might know love.

        Let us be in the same mind. Let us live in the same love. And let us find the same live-giving freedom—that we might know that Jesus Christ is Lord, that love is the only way, that love is what we were made for, and that love is what will deliver us, all people, and all creation from the powers of enmity and death.

        To the glory of God, who is love.