Kant's Three Questions (Palm/Passion Sunday)

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
March 16, 2008; Palm/Passion Sunday, Year A
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

The philosopher Immanuel Kant wrote that all our questions of human reason and speculation combine into three questions: "What can I know? What ought I to do? What may I hope?" (Critique of Pure Reason, 1787)

As we hear the moving and tragic story of the Passion of Jesus, we know that this is a picture of human tragedy and evil. What does Jesus do? He hangs there, suspended between heaven and earth, between life and death. He does nothing but hang there, suffering. But that is a lot. He does not return the cursing; he does not attack his attackers. He hangs there trusting God, and living as he has lived his whole life, returning compassion for injury, love for hate, pardon for offense. He dies, apparently abandoned, without hope -- the words "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" giving expression to the depths of his suffering.

In 1981, a high school student from Catholic Cathedral High in Natchez, Mississippi was walking with his date to the annual prom: tuxedo and formal gown. Without warning, another young man, about the same age, snatched the date's purse and ran down the sidewalk. The boy in the tuxedo gave chase. He ran track for Cathedral, and eventually he caught up with the purse-snatcher. As he reached to retrieve the purse, the other boy turned, pointed a pistol and shot him in the stomach. He died.

Saturday a week ago, our youth were on a fun trip to Devil's Den for an overnight workshop about dreams. They were in a circle throwing a frisbee back and forth, when Andrew Kilgore, one of the adults who volunteers with our youth, threw a sloppy toss that landed a few feet in front of him. His competitive spirit rose, and he wanted that frisbee back to give it a better toss. He ran quickly toward it, tripped and fell suddenly, face first to the ground. His head snapped back violently, bruising his spinal cord. He couldn't move most of his limbs. Andrew graduated into HeathSouth Rehabilitation Friday, where he is slowly regaining his functions, facing a long, uncertain road back to mobility.

Immanuel Kant asks, "What can I know?" I know that life is difficult. Very difficult. I know that terrible things happen, sometimes as accidents, sometimes as evil.

"What ought I do to?" Hang in there. As Andrew begins the slow work that has interrupted his life... What will he learn? What will he see? It's too early to know how this will turn out. But you can see the emotional spine and character that is strong and resilient as Andrew does his part in the healing of his physical spine.

"What ought I to do?" Hang in there. Hang in there, trusting God. I was teaching Ethics to the class of high school seniors at the Episcopal school in Natchez when that young man was shot. They all knew the boy who had died. They talked about their feelings. Why did he chase? Just let him have the stupid purse? But they were also proud of him, for doing the right thing, for standing up for his girl and against theft. Some were angry at the boy who shot their friend: I hope he fries. But others thought, What about his life? He would end up in prison, maybe forever. Or worse. And his family? They've lost a child too.

"Where was Jesus in this?" they asked me. He was there, was all I could say. He was there absorbing that bullet into his own stomach, dying again with their friend, just as he had died on the cross. He was there, grieving with helpless love as another of his beloved children lost himself and pulled the trigger. He is there, with the family and friends like you, with us, to absorb the and pain and loss in the tragedy of human evil and stupidity, just as he was absorbing pain and loss in the evil and stupidity of his own tragic death.

Standing at the ruins of his Gulfport church just days after Katrina, my friend Bo Roberts choked back tears as he said of the hurricane, "God doesn't send 'em; God doesn't stop 'em. But he gives us strength and faith to overcome 'em." His church never missed a Sunday.

Dorothy Sayers said it nicely, "God did not abolish the fact of evil. God transformed it. God did not stop the crucifixion. He rose from the dead."

"What can I know?" Life is difficult, sometimes tragic and evil.

"What ought I to do?" Hang in there, with courage and trust, returning compassion for injury, love for hate, pardon for offense, as best we can.

"What may I hope?" That God is with us. Christ knows our circumstances. The evil we suffer and the evil we do. Out of that suffering and evil, God brings new life -- resurrection.

We're not there yet. It's still Passion Sunday. We've still got a way to go, through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. But the hope of Easter is out there. Just beyond the horizon of our vision. Jesus is with us. Hang in there. What God does best is resurrection.
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