“But now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem.”
Like Jesus, the master he knew in the Spirit but not in the flesh,
Paul takes leave of his friends to whom he has selflessly preached
the kingdom of God, and heads for a dark and unknown future. “What
will happen to me there I do not know, except that in one city after
another the Holy Spirit has been warning me that imprisonment and
hardships await me.”
With that warning in mind, and with the example of Jesus’
own fate in Jerusalem before him, Paul leaves the security of the
community at Ephesus for almost certain suffering. He does so in
freedom and holy indifference – “I consider life of
no importance to me” – because he serves a larger purpose
than personal advancement or physical survival.
In the passage from the Gospel of John, we see the same motif of
freedom and purposefulness in the face of certain suffering, but
now writ large, “glorified,” in the figure of Jesus,
sent from the Father, so that all may have abundant life.
On April 3, 1968, almost 2,000 years later, yet another follower
of Jesus uttered these very biblical words: “Like anybody,
I would like to live a long life—longevity has its place.
But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s
will. And he’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve
looked over, and I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get
there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people,
will get to the promised land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m
not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine
eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
Like Jesus, like Paul, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. served a larger
purpose, the freedom, justice, and peace of the promised land, of
what he also called the Beloved Community. And like Jesus, like
Paul, he did so selflessly, even to the point of giving his life.
He was assassinated the day after those words of freedom, his last
public words, were spoken.
Theologian James Alison in Knowing Jesus describes the
mindset of Jesus, Paul, and Martin as “the intelligence of
the victim…a freedom in giving oneself to others, in not being
moved by the violence of others, even when it perceives that this
free self-giving is going to be lynched as a result.” This
intelligence of the victim, this knowing of Jesus, is,
according to Alison, the Holy Spirit.
The readings for today put us squarely at the mysterious heart of
the Gospel, where freedom from fear of one’s own suffering,
the freedom to love, brings life into this beautiful, demented world.
Dare we pray to receive such a gift?
“But now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem.”