Yes. You’re going to screw it up. So let’s get free of scapegoat addiction in the shadow of COVID
Day 38 — You’re going to screw it up
I’ve seen a few Passion Plays in my day. Do you know what those are? Have you seen one?
They’re plays or musicals that tell the story of Jesus and his friends’ final days before his execution by the Roman Empire. (Side note: You have to watch “The Gospel of Eureka.” It’s a documentary about the town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas, with it’s evangelical Christian passion play and it’s local bar known for its drag shows. I first saw it on PBS. It’s currently available via Amazon Prime.)
Back to the play. I believe in every passion play I’ve seen, there’s this moment in the story where Judas (one of Jesus’ most dedicated students) is depicted as eating from the same bowl as Jesus, then betraying him (i.e., selling him out to the power-brokers who had vested interest in Jesus disappearing) and shamefully running off stage left. It’s one of the more dramatic scenes in what are typically very dramatic plays.
That damn Judas. He betrayed this most kind and loving and peaceful Jesus. And he pretended to be his friend for so long. How low can you get!
Judas!
The play moves on. Usually there are whips and nails. And often the narration of the play is woven together in such a way to make you feel a little bad about yourself. Kind of like you’re a terrible person sometimes. Like you’ve got a little Judas going on within.
And then there’s this dramatic white light resurrection moment, and you’re told you’re forgiven.
And then you leave, kind of feeling like you’re getting off an emotional roller coaster. That Jesus guy is pretty nice, and, gosh, I should try and be a better person. Or else!?! I guess…
God, don’t we love a good scapegoat.
That’s what these plays reveal to me today (except for maybe The Gospel of Eureka…).
There’s two scapegoats in passion plays. There’s the Judas scapegoat and the Jesus scapegoat. We’ll deal with the Jesus scapegoat later. Today, Judas.
Here’s part of the Bible story in Matthew (chapter 26 if you’re looking for it):
[W]hile they were eating, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?” He answered, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me…”
Judas is the one upon whom we lob all the blame. He’s the one who dips his hand in the bowl with Jesus and then runs off stage. He’s the one who sells his soul for a bag of silver.
How can people be so selfish, or naive, or irresponsible, or evil? How could they make such terrible decisions? How could they betray someone who has been so good to them?
These questions are familiar, right?
They’ll be even louder as we approach the US presidential election in the shadow of COVID. I anticipate the scapegoating to be through the atmosphere. There will be many of the left lobbing all the blame on Trump. Meanwhile, many on the right will lob most of the blame on China.
Blah, blah, blah TRUMP! Blah, blah, blah, CHINA! Shouting matches behind face masks standing six feet away from one another.
It’s like we’re addicted to having someone or some other group — other than me and my group — being the root of all the problems (for more see René Girard).
Damn Judases!
And like all good addictions, scapegoating just keeps the pain and the problems in circulation. A downward spiral. Never the whole of the story. And certainly never effective if healing or reconciliation or freedom are what we’re seeking.
But what if the people who wrote the passion plays missed a really important piece of the story?
Certainly, we wouldn’t shame them. Instead, maybe we could gently offer this nuanced piece of information that Alexander Shaia points out in his book, Heart and Mind:
“In the custom of the time, meals were served in a single, common bowl. Tearing a piece of bread to use as a scoop, each person reaches into the bowl, gets food, then eats. Jesus announces that his betrayal will come from ‘the one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me.’ Literally, these words state that everyone at table that night will betray him; Jesus does not differentiate between Judas and the other disciples.
Jesus knows that none of the disciples are sufficiently ready, sufficiently mature in their faith, to be capable of constancy. He knows that they will cling to their old behaviors, the old order. He knows that betrayals of all kinds will occur over and over and over again — that this is an inevitable and predictable part of the early stages of the spiritual journey — to which all of the disciples are vulnerable. He wants to prepare his followers for this reality. He wants to bring them forward to a much more important lesson. That lesson ‘what remains to be done after betrayal.’”
(Italics and underline — Shaiah’s)
_______
The good news is, you’re going to screw it up.
It’s part of this messy beautiful human thing. The even better news is we all know (somewhere inside us) that we all screw it up sometimes.
We don’t have to keep pretending that it’s only those others who are screwing it up. Nor do we have to waste all our energies covering up the mis-takes we’ve made only to run off stage ashamed when they are brought into the light.
We simply have to be honest. With the whole story.
We’ve all got our hand in the bowl at times.
Admitting it is the first step.
And it’s way easier to admit when we take a deep breath and suspend judgment of ourselves and one another for a moment.
Then, as one courageous person after the other tells their story about their hand being in the bowl, our individual and collective capacities for a “what comes after” can birth.
Healing is possible. We can come to know that we aren’t alone in the screw ups. We don’t have to keep perpetuating them. We don’t have to stay ashamed. Nor do we have to do our healing work alone.
Reconciliation is possible. We can learn courage and take responsibility for our actions or inactions. And, we can do this without being dependent upon others to blame. We can accept that we’re all on a journey, and we’re responsible for our own.
Freedom is possible. No longer dependent upon having someone to blame or something to hide, we are free to create, to serve, to love. We get to dip our hand in the bowl and not run off stage, but instead enjoy one another’s company.
Judas, and you, and Trump, and China, and the rest of the cosmos, sitting at the same table. Passing a bowl full of enough.
Peace and breath as we heal from our addictions to scapegoats
