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Showing posts with label Clearing the temple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clearing the temple. Show all posts

Monday, April 6, 2020

Palm Sunday Message - 2020


Palm Sunday - Easter / Lent - Catholic Online

“A Warm Welcome for Everyone” (Matthew 21:1-17)
Rob Tennant, Hillside Church, Chapel Hill, NC
Palm Sunday, April 5, 2020
*This message will be broadcast by Facebook and Instagram Live and posted to Youtube, but will not be preached to a live audience.  We – America, the world – are in the midst of the COVID-19 crisis which is causing people all over the world to avoid gathering in groups of larger than 10, and diligently maintain “social distance.”  It’s an effort to curb the rapid, worldwide spread of the Corona virus which can be deadly.

            An online devotion that I subscribe to is d365.org.  I thought the entry for March 30, by Gina Yeager-Buckley is beautifully written.  She writes,
[People] are curious.  We click [on a weblink] and are taken down trails of news stories and headlines.  We click and are taken on a path of discovery.  // One of the privileges of having Jesus’s story is that we are allowed to wonder and ask questions.  A path of discovery.  We can follow the path our mind takes us, imagining what it was like to be Jesus; to wonder what was waiting in Jerusalem; to wonder why God had outlined this particular road for his life and death.

Curiosity is a Christian spiritual practice – a habit we ought to put into our daily routines.  Try it!  What do you think was happening while Jesus waited as the disciples followed?  What would you be feeling [if you where in his place or theirs]?  When in your life have you found yourself waiting for something big?[i]

            Shall we accept this devotion writer’s invitation to imaginatively enter the Jesus story on that day he came into the city, the day we refer to as Palm Sunday?  What was it like?       
            Matthew writes, “They had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage at the Mount of Olives.  Upon arrival, Jesus tells two of the disciples to go into the village ahead of them and fetch the donkey and the colt he will ride as a king entering Jerusalem.  If they are questioned about the animals, they are to say, “The Lord needs them.”  The Lord.  What has Jesus called himself up to now?  Sonw of Man.  Now, he’s The Lord?  As we turn the page and come near Jerusalem, near the end of the gospel, what has changed in the story? 
            The previous chapter, Matthew 20, says they were coming from Jericho.  From there to Jerusalem is 15 miles of desert walking, ascending 3000 feet in elevation.  That’s 6-8 hours of uphill, dry desert walking.[ii]  Upon arrival the parade begins.  I’d be tired, but people line the highway into the city.  They seem to be there to welcome Jesus.  Would the fatigue of grueling journey be overcome by the energy of the praises ringing out, praises for Jesus? 
            I picked out several words and phrases from this passage that caught my attention.  I think these highlighted depictions capture the feeling of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and then his arrival at the temple and his actions there. 
            “A very large crowd”; no numbers are given, but it’s clear that Matthew writing decades later recalls a mass of people, large enough to be worthy of note. 
            “Shouting!”  What was this large crowd shouting?  “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  A couple of truly important notes to keep in mind about this cry that we might miss reading it today.  The “Hosanna” is from Psalm 118:26, a Messianic Psalm.  We have then, a large crowd brazenly shouting for all to hear a Psalm associated with the anticipated savior.  By calling him “Son of David,” this crowd believes him to be the true king of God’s people.  Their frenzy reaches such a fever pitch that they aren’t afraid even though their declarations of Jesus mean Herod is not the rightful king; nor is Caesar.
            “The whole city is in turmoil.”  Is verse 10 an exaggeration?  Did all of Jerusalem, the most significant city in the country really feel the force of Jesus’ arrival?  Whether it was exclusively the entry of Jesus, or there were several messianic movements converging on the city as Passover drew close, Matthew uses the word “turmoil” to describe the atmosphere.
            A debate ensues as many people ask “who is this.”  Many others respond, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth.”  Lord.  Son of David.  Prophet.  As Matthew fires titles for Jesus at us more rapidly than we can process, it is startling to think how little things have changed.  The debate rages on.  Who is this?  People ask, and others fire responses.  A great first century rabbi.  The prophet that came before Muhammed.  The Savior of the World.  My personal Lord and Savior.  As on that first Palm Sunday, today, whether we know the truth and walk in the truth still comes down to what we believe about Jesus and whether or not we follow as his disciples.
            “My house shall be called a house of prayer.”  Jesus enters the temple where he sees people buying animals for the ritual sacrifices made in worship services at the temple.  The money changers, exchanging temple coins for Roman currency, and the animal sellers take advantage of the religious pilgrims who want their sins forgiven.  Appalled at how this place intended to draw truly faithfully worshipers closer to God has been corrupted, Jesus flips over the tables sending coins in every direction.  Then, with a whip, he drives the animals out.  The braying and neighing and clinking and crashing and shouting – can you hear the cacophony of chaos? 
            But it is not chaos!  This series of momentous events that begins with Jesus arriving and then entering the city as a king, albeit a humble, servant-ruler, may appear random and out of control, but it is in actuality an orchestrated prophetic act that crescendos to the new creation climax Jesus announces when he says, “My house shall be a house of prayer.”
            To feel the full force of this, we have to hear the entire quote which Matthew surely shortened.  Jesus is quoting Isaiah 56:6-7.

And the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord,
    to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord,
    and to be his servants,
all who keep the sabbath, and do not profane it,
    and hold fast my covenant—
these I will bring to my holy mountain,
    and make them joyful in my house of prayer;
their burnt offerings and their sacrifices
    will be accepted on my altar;
for my house shall be called a house of prayer
    for all peoples.
           
            Accepting the title “Lord,” entering the city as a king, accepting the praise of the people known to be praise for the Messiah, brazenly defying King Herod, Pontius Pilate and Caesar, and the religious leaders who oversaw temple proceedings, Jesus declares that with his arrival a new era has begun.  What’s different about it?
            Matthew 21:14 says the blind and lame came to him.  He received them and healed them in the temple’s outer court.  In Leviticus 21:17 blind and lame people are prohibited from drawing near to the Lord in worship.  Why this prohibition exists is a debate for another day.  Suffice it to say it’s there, in the Torah.  In 2 Samuel 5:8, newly crowned King David reiterates this prohibition, banning blind and lame people from worship.  Jesus, God-in-the-flesh, overturns this rejection.  To him, the blind and lame are not people with blemishes.  They are beloved children of God he has come to save.  He, not a building called a “temple” is where people will come to meet God.  He welcomes all and hears the prayers of all.
            In opening the pathway to God for the blind and lame, Jesus declares God’s welcome to all in Israel, not just the religious elites.  In quoting Isaiah 56, he welcomes all outside of Israel.  The prophet promises that foreigners, non-Israelites, those outside the “Chosen People” who join themselves to the Lord will be accepted and receive joy.  God hears their prayers too. 
How do we join ourselves to the Lord?  We come to know Jesus.  In the Gospels, in the New Testament, and in Christian testimony, we see him.  We confess our sins and receive forgiveness in his name.  We give ourselves to him and pledge to live under his leadership as we declare that he and only he is Lord.  We become his disciples. 
By the end of the Gospel we understand that this temple, as beautiful as it was, as important as it was, in the end was not where God is found.  Jesus is the house of prayer.  Jesus is where prayers are heard.  Jesus is where God is met.  And where is Jesus?  The Gospel ends with him sending the disciples on a mission to multiply the church and saying to them, “Remember I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
God in the flesh has risen and will return at that time he said, “The end of the age.”  God the Holy Spirit is omnipresent, with you wherever you go and at the same time, with me wherever I happen to be.  He is with us, always, to the end of the age.  He is Lord, above all powers and governments, ruler of all, savior of all.  And, as the events of Palm Sunday, his Jerusalem entry, shows, he welcomes all. 
I know you are dealing with “stay-at-home” orders, looming unemployment, possible sickness, and other realities associated with the worldwide pandemic that is the Coronavirus.  I know you’re dealing with this because everyone is.  I don’t know how it’s effecting you.  And I don’t know what else might be going on in your life.  I don’t know your struggles or fears.  Jesus does.  He sees you.  He is with you.  He loves you.
No blemish you might have cuts you off from him.  No past mistakes get in the way of you coming into his arms of love.  The path is wide open and he waits for you with welcome arms stretched out wide.  You can step into His embrace without fear of catching anything other than joy, love, and peace.  Oh, and you might also get righteousness, hope, and encouragement.  He has come for all.  He has come for you.  He invites you to give your life to Him.
AMEN


[ii] Michael Wilkins (2004), The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, Zondervan Publisher (Grand Rapids, MI), p.685.

Monday, April 10, 2017

"Dauntless Faith" - Palm Sunday 2017

                              Palm Sunday, April 9, 2017



            “Truly I tell you,” Jesus said, “if you have faith and do not doubt … even if you say to this mountain, ‘be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done” (Mt. 21:21).    I don’t know.  Do we really believe this?  Frankly, when I visit a mountain, I am usually hiking up it.  I am counting on it staying right where it is.  I want to stand at the top and marvel at the view.  What is Jesus really saying here? What do we make of the idea of mountain-moving faith?
            To go deeper into this, consider two factors.  First, consider who is in church on Sunday morning.  Who is here?  Who are we?
            Someone is here because this is his church home and it’s Sunday.  On Sunday, you go to church.  It’s what you do. 
            Someone else is here because today the conversation in her head went the other way.  She has been through more downs than ups, and her lows are much lower than her highs are high.  In her daily struggle, she has this weekly conversation.  I’m going to church.  This time I am actually going to do it.  She’s longing for hope, for community, for salvation … for something.  Week after week, she has the conversation and it always ends the same way.  At the last minute, she says ‘no.  Not this week.’  Today, that conversation went the other way and her she sits.  She’s not sure she believe a word of any of it.  She’s not sure there is a God and if there is, she’s not sure that God is any good.  But, for reasons she cannot explain, she’ here.
            Someone else is here because she thinks this church stuff is good for her kids.  She may or may not believe the bits about God and Jesus, but her kids get positive role modelling here.  Faith doesn’t have much influence in her life, but it’s good for her kids, so she’s here.
            Someone else is here because church offers the opportunity for power.  If he serves on committees long enough, he’ll be elected chairman.  He’ll have influence.  Maybe church can become his little fiefdom. 
            Someone else here wants to be 100 other places, but people in her life want her here and she wants to keep them happy.  So, here she is. 
            Someone else is here because he is employed by the church.  He’s got to be here.
           
            Don’t worry!  I know I haven’t described you.  I know you are here out of your love for God and deep desire to worship him.  I know that’s why you’re here, but overall, we’re a motley crew.  Each of us has our reasons for coming to church and I am not judging.  I’m glad you’re here.  I am glad I am too.  I want us to be real.  Among us are doubters, atheists, backsliders, hypocrites, the self-righteous, the bored, charismatics, contemplatives, and honest seekers. 
            The second factor to consider is God is here.  This might be harder, especially for the self-righteous.  The atheist, the doubter, the backslider –they all secretly hope God will explode into this place and change everything.  They came to church, for the faint possibility that that which they know to be false might actually true.  God might be real.  If the atheist or the backslider didn’t have the slightest hope of this, they be at brunch somewhere, or sitting on the front porch sipping coffee.  No, God’s presence is dangerous for the self-righteous because God’s presences exposes our sins.  Exposed, the self-righteous person loses all his power. 
            As we sing and smile and hug each other and read the Bible, please believe that God is among us, and God is never an ornament or a passive spectator.  If God is here, then God is going to do something.  What?  It’s Palm Sunday.  What is God going to do?
            Follow Jesus as he moves through the story in Matthew.  He rides into Jerusalem with great fanfare.  “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord” (21:9)!  Crowds cheer.  Palm branches are waved.  Then he enters the temple and sees that worship has become big business.
            People come from all over the Empire.  For worship in the temple, an animal for sacrifice is needed.  Can’t really carry a cow from Alexandria and make it in time.  So, you buy one upon arrival.  But, Roman coins are not accepted here.  Neither are Corinthian coins or Athenian currency.  Temple coins are needed.  Jesus watches as pilgrims, here to find atonement for their sins, first have to go the money changing station where they are fleeced.  Then, jingling the temple coins in their anxious hands, they go to the station to buy the animal for sacrifice.  In the eyes of the priests collecting money, Jesus sees greed.  The temple gets richer, but no one is getting any closer to God.  This won’t do. 
            The tables are turned over, the clanging coins spilling to the floor, the animals running to and fro.  Jesus doesn’t bring chaos to the scene.  He uses the chaos already there to expose the evil that oozes from the cracks of the house of prayer which has become deformed into a den of thieves.
            That’s when we find out who was in the temple that day.  As we meet them, we need to keep in our minds who is in church this day.  Who is here?  Each and every one of us needs to look into the mirror of the soul and ask ‘Why am I here?’
            The first temple worshipers we meet are the desperate.  Verse 14: “the blind and the lame came to him … and he cured them.” They were there because there was no one where else to go.  There were no social services for the blind and the paralyzed.  They survived off the mercy of family and friends, and often family & friends weren’t very generous.  They came to Jesus for healing.  It seemed to be a far-flung hope, ludicrous really.  But it was what they had.  Verse 14 says, Jesus cured them.  Cured, the ailments that defined them taken away, who would they become, now that Jesus healed them?
            Next we meet others at the temple: the chief priests and scribes.  The temple had hundreds of priests.  Some, Jesus had already sent scurrying to round up the money he scattered when he turned over the currency tables over.  These mentioned in verse 15, I believe, had been gathering outside the temple as Jesus rode toward it with cheering crowds all around him.  As the Hosanna’s crescendoed, Jesus’ rivals, religious leaders, huddled and murmured.  Verse 15 says, “They became angry and said to him, ‘Do you hear what they are saying?’”
            These are the self-righteous.  These are the church goers who do not want God showing up and doing anything new.  When God does new things, then God is in control.  These leaders wanted to be the ones in control.  They knew Jesus represented God.  Maybe they knew it more than anyone else.  But like Dostoevsky’s Grand Inquisitor, these complainers wanted God to stay distant.  They were the despisers that resented Jesus for exposing their hypocrisy and empowering the weak by drawing them close to God. 
            At the temple on that day that Jesus rode in to shouts of “Hosanna” and turned over tables, there were the desperate and the despisers.  The desperate ran to Jesus in hopes that he could give them new life – life as healed, whole persons.  The despisers ran to Jesus to dethrone him.  They wanted to hold on to power as they destroyed anyone who threatened their position. 
            One more group was there, but we don’t meet them until the next day.  On the walk back into the city the next morning, Jesus cursed a fig tree that had not produced fruit.  It immediately withered.  The disciples were wowed and Jesus rolled his eyes.  They had seen him walk on water.  They were there when he fed 5000 with a few loaves and fish.  Now, this excites them, the cursing of a fig tree?  Listen to what Jesus tells them.  “I tell you if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done.  Whatever you ask for in prayer you will receive” (21:21-22). 
            I think Jesus talks about mountains being tossed into the sea because he wants to remind his disciples that no prayer is too big.  Jesus paints this impossible picture, a mountain tossed about, to help the disciples pray impossible prayers.
            They did not get it – not at first anyway.  When it came time for his arrest, they all surrendered to fear and they fled and hid.  However, after the resurrection all Jesus’ words, including these, came back to them.  They learned how to rely on the Holy Spirit and pray mountain-moving prayers.  Without such dauntless faith, they never could have faced the sword the way they did.
            Stephen, one of the original deacons, was stoned by an unruly crowd in Acts 7.  Acts 12 reports the beheading of James, one of the 12.  Tradition tells us both Peter and Paul continued their testimony, preaching salvation in Jesus Christ, until each was finally executed for doing so.  The massive, mountain-moving faith needed to stand up for God in the face of painful death was given to these early disciples.  If those seeking healing in the temple on Palm Sunday were the desperate, and those criticizing Jesus were the despisers, those who followed him became the determined.  They would learn to testify to their faith in the most trying of circumstances.
            Of course, when I hold up the group at the temple on that day that Jesus rode into town alongside the Sunday morning crowd here on this Palm Sunday, April 9, 2017, it’s obvious what I will say next.  There were the desperate, the despisers, and the determined.  Which one are you?
            No, I am not going to say that because (1) the right answer is obvious; we’d all describe ourselves as the determined.  And (2) to do this would be dishonest.  On that day moving through the waving palm branches following Jesus, James was not determined.  He would later face Herod’s sword, but not on that day.  On that day, basking in the delight of the people, Peter was not ready to himself be crucified.  He would go on to deny knowing Jesus.  And then, he’d a leader in the church.  And then he’d be crucified upside down.  But not on that day.  He did not yet have mountain-moving faith. 
            The truth is we all start out as despisers.  We’re not all church leaders.  We’re not all hypocrites who speak one way and act another.  But each one of us has our own moment, just as Eve had hers in the garden.  She told the serpent God had said she would die if she ate the forbidden fruit.  The serpent told her she would not die.  The serpent told her God had deceived her.  She chose to believe the serpent, to accept what she knew to be a lie.  We choose to trust ourselves instead of trusting God.  We ignore the truth that our lives go better when we entrust ourselves to God.  We despise the thought that we are called to worship.  We all do it.
            We do it until life breaks us.  The weight of sin crushes us, and fallen, despairing, we come crawling on our knees to God because we know we have no other hope.  By the way, I didn’t know this as a teenager or as a young adult.  My life was relatively easy early on.  I didn’t realize my own brokenness or my absolute need for God or my own dependence until I was an adult. But then I learned.  I became one of the desperate.  We all do.  Peter and James and the rest of the disciples did the night Jesus was arrested.  It happens for all of us.  Broken, we come to the Lord only thinking about what he can do for us. 
            In his great love, he receives us in that condition.  Then what?  Once we’ve been healed and forgiven, restored and made new, what comes next?  If we are grateful and willing to live in dependence on God, the begins working in us.  Filled with the Spirit, we become determined to grow in Christ and to share the news of salvation with the world.  As we see God at work in the church and join the ranks of the determined, we are given a dauntless faith.  We are empowered to build the church in a cynical, self-centered society.  We are emboldened to take the Gospel to other place, to unevangelized peoples, and unchurched countries.  We entrusted with more difficult callings until we are even willing to embrace martyrdom and we do so joyfully. 
            In the story, both as it plays out in Matthew 21 and on Palm Sunday 2017 in our church and in our lives, we see the desperate and the despised, and then the determined who are given dauntless faith.  I began with a kind of caricatured list of who’s here.  I don’t actually know why you’re here or where you are this morning in your walk with God.  I pray that the Spirit will move you. 
If you are a despiser, a skeptic, I pray God will penetrate your soul and reveal the brokenness in your life.
If you are desperate, you know of the brokenness.  I pray God will ready you to receive healing.
If you have and are willing to live dependently, relying on God in all areas of life, I pray you will follow after Jesus with determination unknown to mankind.
If you are already determined to grow as disciple, I pray that on this day, Palm Sunday 2017, God will fill you with dauntless faith.

AMEN

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Can you Hear the Hosannas

Do We Hear the ‘Hosanna’s’? (Matthew 21:1-17)
Sunday, April 13, 2014 – Palm Sunday

            Shane Claiborne is a writer, activist, speaker, and prophet who lives in an intentional community called the Simple Way in a Philadelphia neighborhood populated by addicts and dealers.  Children often go unsupervised.  There is violence.  Claiborne writes that whenever a fight breaks out near his house, he runs outside with torches.  He stands down the street from the rumble juggling the torches like clown.  He writes, “Perhaps kids will lose interest in the noise of a good fight and move toward the other end of the block to watch the circus.  I truly believe,” Claiborne says, “we can overcome the darkness of this world by shining something brighter and more beautiful.”[i]
            Fights are so common where he lives that he has a ready-made response, a beautiful response.  Give them something fun and whimsical to see instead of violence.  Provide a happy alternative to the corruption. 
            I may not ever see two people beating each other with fists and sticks and knives on the street where I live, but the world is soaked in sin and sin always leads to violence and death.  Cain always ends up killing Abel.  Sometimes the pathway to violence is indirect.  We don’t see the bloodshed but, the wage of sin is death, Romans 6:23.  And sin is everywhere.
            Claiborne’s attempt to divert attention away from the street fight by providing a circus shows in a playful way the serious alternative to a cycle of death that Jesus offered in the temple.  Jesus declared there is another way, a way that’s different and better than the way of violence and death.
Every year on the Sunday before Easter, Palm Sunday, we see Jesus praised on his ride into Jerusalem.  We watch him explode in righteous fury, driving animals out of the temple.  Matthew’s version of these events describes four definite actions of Jesus.  He rides into town as a king, passes judgment on the temple as a prophet, heals in a way that only God can, and receives worship, as only God should. 
In the Old Testament, the book of 2nd Kings, chapter 9, Jehu is anointed by a prophet of God to be Israel’s next king.  Jehu and his men must get rid of the wicked King Ahab.  As he announces to his friends what God has said and what they must do, they hastily spread their cloaks before him, blow a trumpet, and shout “Jehu” is king (9:13). 
The crowd in Matthew 21 remembers the cloaks laid before Jehu as they reenact the impromptu coronation, laying their cloaks before Jesus.  The people hope he is will be the king of Israel.  UCC minister Nancy Rockwell suggests more than simply declaring the reign of Jesus, this is revolutionary.  It is an affront to King Herod the puppet monarch who answers to Rome. 
More significantly, it is a blatant rejection of the Roman Emperor.  Rockwell cites a book called The Last Week by Borg and Crossan[ii] that proposes that there was another procession the same day Jesus rode into Jerusalem.  While he came into town to cries of “Hosanna,” while riding an animal of peace, a donkey, Roman Governor Pilate processed into another part of town with a legion of soldiers on horses for the sole purpose of making a show of Roman force.  This was to discourage any potential rebellion.  Pilate had no idea how mistaken he was.  Even as he flexed the muscle of empire, the disciples acted out the kingship of Jesus.
Besides king, Jesus played the role of prophet.  The whole temple incident of turning over tables was a declaration of judgment.  In the Old Testament, the prophets do odd things to get their message across.  Jeremiah had a jar of rotting undergarments that symbolized the way pride had ruined Judah (Jer. 13:9).  Hosea had to marry a prostitute to illustrate how God would continuously take the nation back in spite of her infidelities.  These are just a few of many examples of how prophets sometimes used bizarre behavior to communicate the word of God.
Jesus did not cleanse the temple as this incident is sometimes described.  Something that’s be cleaned can be used again.  He rendered judgment.  The temple would no longer be the heart of God’s activity with people.  It was a den of thieves.  That phrase means that robbers – the religious establishment in Jesus eyes – felt like no harm would come to them in God’s temple.  They could get rich through dishonest means there in the house of prayer where people met God.  They felt their hold on the system made them safe.  They did not fear God.  Jesus’s violent acts, turning over tables, driving out animals, signaled the judgment that would be rendered when he died on the cross.
He came in as a king.  He spoke as a prophet.  And he received worship.  The people cried, “Hosanna,” a phrase from Psalm 118, verse 25, and it literally means, “Save us now, O Lord.”  We say this say to God when we are desperate.  Pinched between corrupt priests, Pharisees who laid a heavy load of legalism, the evil of Herod, and the oppression of Rome, the people were powerless.  They had nowhere to turn, so they turned to Jesus.  They invoked royal Psalms and words reserved for God alone and lifted those words upon Jesus’ arrival.
And Jesus accepted it all.  In this passage, our Palm Sunday reading, Jesus acted out what he truly was – prophet, king, and God.  The highest roles for ancient Israelites were prophet, priest and king.  Jesus was prophet and king, and the book of Hebrews over and over confirms what Matthew says implicitly – he was the supreme priest.  A priest is to stand between a human, marked by the profanity of sin, and the most Holy God.  Jesus was both fully human and fully God, so he was uniquely qualified to bring Heaven to Earth.  As we see in Revelation, Heaven and earth are joined in Christ as intimately as a bride and groom (Rev. 21).
What does this look like, in practical terms?  The Gospel of Matthew describes what Jesus did in the temple to show him to be who we believe him to be – Lord, Savior, King, God.  To get a sense of this, we need to do two things – remember, and look around and listen.
First, remember.  Specifically, we turn back in Matthew’s gospel to earlier in the story, chapter 11.  Jesus’ cousin John, called John the Baptist, was a prophet.  He called the nation of Israel to repentance.  He baptized people to show that they were cleansed of their sins.  He baptized Jesus. 
John preached without a filter.  So when Herod married his brother’s wife, John condemned the marriage.  Herod, the king of the Jews received his power from the Roman governor.  At any time, Pilate could oust Herod and have him killed.  Compared to other Jews, Herod was powerful and wealthy, but he was a puppet on the end of a Roman string.  Thus he was paranoid.
The fury and directness of John’s preaching infuriated the impotent monarch, so he had John imprisoned.  And John wasted away in Herod’s prison many months.  His energy waned.  He could not preach.  He did know what happened with Jesus after the baptism.  He had done his part in God’s plan, but in prison, he fell into depression.  So, his disciples, who were allowed to visit, came and he sent them to Jesus. 
There question to Jesus from John was, “Are you the one who is to come or are we to wait for another?”
Jesus responded, “The blind receive their sight and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them” (11:3-5).  The blind receive their sight.  The lame are made able to walk.
These things would happen when the Messiah came.  These things were happening.  Jesus must be who John thought he was.  Now it is Palm Sunday.  A lot happened in Matthew’s gospel between that conversation with Jesus and John’s disciples, and the ride into Jerusalem that ended with disruption of temple money-changing tables.  But Matthew wants us, the readers to remember.  How can we know Jesus is from God?  The blind receive their sight.  The lame are made able to walk.  The dead are raised.
Matthew tells about Jesus riding in as a king, judging as a prophet, and receiving worship as God.  Then, in verse 14 it says, “The blind and lame came to him at the temple and he cured them.”  God is acting in history, changing everything, and the gatekeepers, the temple leaders do not like it at all. 
Matthew writes that they became angry.  After the excitement of the procession and the turning over of tables, and after the healing miracles, a confrontation between Jesus and the priests ensued.  There may have been 1000 adults in the temple area and they would be fascinated by an open confrontation between the high priest and the Galilean carpenter.  They would do what you or I would do if two people in public began arguing.  They would stop to gawk. 
Someone forgot to tell the children in the temple’s out court that the party had ended.  They kids kept singing the song – the song for Jesus.  “Hosanna to the son of David.”  Save us now, O Lord.  And he was doing exactly that. 
But the chief priests did not want to be saved.  Remember, den of thieves, the place where the criminals feel safe?  The temple leaders, like Herod, were under the heel of Rome, but they enjoyed status.  They may have been enslaved by Rome, but they were the rich slaves.  They did not need Jesus disrupting things, taking away their privileged position, bringing punishment on them.  They had no faith that he was of God and could bring freedom and new life. 
They saw the miracles and did not rejoice.  They heard the singing and did not join in.  “Do you hear what these [children] are saying?” The chief priests demanded (Mt. 21:16).  Yes, said, Jesus.  He quoted Psalm 8 to show that the children and anyone else who sang praise songs to him were the ones with understanding and the ones receiving the blessing God had sent. 
We’re trying to see and understand who Jesus is – Lord, Savior, God, King.  So we remember.  We know it is the Messiah of God when the blind receive their sight.  The lame are made able to walk.  The dead are raised.  Matthew tells of the healings in the temple that day.  The final act would come a week later when Jesus left the grave behind.
I mentioned that we needed to do two things to understand Jesus.  First, we needed to remember and we have looked back to John the Baptist and we have remembered.  This Thursday, we will wash feet and take communion and we will remember.  This Friday, we will tell the story of the cross and remember.  Next Sunday, we will see the sun rise and joyously, victoriously remember.
The second thing we need to do is look around and listen.  We see and hear Jesus when we hear the children singing “Hosanna – Lord, save us now.”  The Hosanna cry comes from people who need to be saved.  Who needs to be saved?  Children in households where they are neglected and abused; they need Jesus.  “Hosanna – Lord, save us now.”  Who needs to be saved?  Addicts – alcoholics, gambling addicts, porn addicts; you name it.  Addiction cannot be overcome without God’s help.  “Hosanna – Lord, save us now.”  Who needs to be saved?  People locked in poverty, trapped with no hope of escape.  They go to bed each night not knowing if they will eat the next day; not knowing where they will sleep the next night.  “Hosanna – Lord, save us now.”  Who needs to be saved?  People in the path of war need to be saved; Syrians, Iraqis, Pakistanis, Afghans.  “Hosanna – Lord, save us now.” 
Of course it is obvious that people in these situations need help.  It appears unrelated to the events of Palm Sunday.  Palm Sunday is supposed to take us into Holy Week and Holy Week culminates on Easter Sunday when we celebrate Jesus’ death for our sins and resurrection victory over death.  This is supposed to be spiritual and triumphant.  Why bring all these political and social justice matters into the conversation?  Domestic violence, addiction, hunger and poverty, war – how do these thorny issues worm their way into a nice Palm Sunday celebration?
On that day, Jesus declared the end of a religious institution – temple worship.  In the new way, the way of Jesus, People would come to him in order to come to God.  On that day, Jesus upended hierarchical systems.  In the new way, the way of Jesus, religious leaders are servants who walk with people instead of lording over them.  On that day, Jesus healed diseases like blindness because he loves people and abhors our suffering and also because his healing was and is a sign of who he is – Lord, Savior, God, and king. 
All of this is political.  All of this is justice and compassion, especially for the most down and out around us.  We hear the children’s song, the “Hosanna!” when we go to where the hurting people are.
We also hear it when we listen to brokenness in our own hearts and realize how desperately we need Jesus.  Until we hear the children singing for us, we will not really see Jesus. 
“Do you hear what these [children] are saying?”  The chief priests asked it indignantly.  We need to ask it innocently and humbly.  Do we hear the children?  Are we seeking Jesus, singing “Hosanna!” begging him to save us?  He gives us a choice.  We gather with the bloodthirsty crowd and watch the street fight and by watching and encouraging the combatants we are as guilty of the violence as they are. 
Or, we can take the Jesus alternative, the one where blind people are healed, the broken mended, and the lame made able to walk.  We can pray, “Hosanna!  Lord save us.”  We can pray it because God hears it and will answer and has answered in Jesus, his come, his death, and his resurrection.  His is the way of life and beckons us to it.
AMEN



[i] S. Claiborne (2006).  The Irresistible Revolution, Zondervan, Grand Rapid, p.285.
[ii] http://biteintheapple.com/ride-on-ride-on/