Palm Sunday Message - 2020

“A Warm Welcome for Everyone” (Matthew 21:1-17)

Rob Tennant, Hillside Church, Chapel Hill, NC

Palm Sunday, April 5, 2020

watch - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJD4LSJmr-8

*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.

⁶ 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—
⁷ 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

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[i] Gina Yeager-Buckley, https://d365.org/devotions/the-triumphal-entry-march-31-2020/.

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

"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

Palm Sunday Sermon

Parade, Protest, Procession, Prelude (Mark 11:1-11)

Palm Sunday, March 29, 2015

        Picture it.  Jesus sits on the donkey, slowly moving toward Jerusalem.  His followers and crowds, either curious or hopeful, line the roadway and wave palms.  “Hosanna,” they shout.  “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.  Blessed is the coming Kingdom of our ancestor David.”

          This event in scripture, Jesus’ slow ride into the city on the Sunday before his crucifixion, has been titled “the triumphal entry.”  The title fits.  Crowds are calling out their hopes and laying those hopes on Jesus’ back.  He is the star of this show.  This is his parade.

          It certainly looks like a great triumph.  Recall Mark chapter 3.  Scribes – legal experts – traveled from Jerusalem to the north where Jesus was teaching and healing and driving demons out of people.  The scribes came and checked out the fuss being made over Jesus.  They called him “Beelzebu” (3:22), a demon.  His own family tried to rein him in.  Now, here he is parading into the great city of David.  Crowds praise his name.  And this is all happening around the time of Passover.  Victory will be his.  Yes, this certainly looks like a parade for Jesus.

          We cannot stop there.  We have to go deeper into the story.

          Yes, Jesus is ushering in the Kingdom of God.  But it is not a kingdom the Romans would respect.  The Kingdom of Jesus stands on love and compassion, not intimidation and force.  The Romans would have appreciated the “shock and awe” military campaign our nation tried to impose a little over a decade ago.  We’ll force our will by way of power.  It is very Roman, very military; it is not very Christ-like. 

Some scholars believe that around the same time Jesus rode his humble donkey into Jerusalem, maybe even the same day, another procession was parading into town.[i]  The Roman governor Pontius Pilate was processing, on gallant stallions, with all the pomp, circumstance, power, and intimidation the legionnaires could muster.  They would should these denizens of Jerusalem what real power is.  Jesus showed Jerusalem and the world what God is about.

His Kingdom was not for Rome, nor was it for the Jewish temple scribes.  They are in the privileged class and they enjoy the benefits their position brings.  Jesus, the Son of God, identifies with the lowliest in society – shepherds, the blind, children, prostitutes and tax collectors, women, and even gentiles.  Who are those people in our world you might think of morally base or of low status.  Jesus locates himself with them.  The elites of Jerusalem, themselves heirs of Abraham just as Jesus was, would feel threatened by his identification with the humble of the world because he came to lift the lowly.

          Thus his “triumphal entry,” as it is sometimes called, his parade was a protest march.  His actions communicate a resounding “no” to politics of power.  His stance negates the idea that might makes right.  He also protested the calls of the revolutionaries who were in the crowd shouting “Hosanna.”  They wanted him to lead the sword-bearing charge that would evict Roman.  Many people in the crowd that waved palm branches in his honor had patriotism and nationalism in mind.  Jesus had the salvation of all humanity in mind.  There were conflicting agendas. 

          He protested the Romans who worshiped power, the Jerusalem establishment who cozied up to that power, and he protested those who would have him play a role other than the one God intended.  He was not a violent revolutionary.  His victory would come through sacrifice.  No one around him was prepared for what was coming.  This parade, which was in actuality a protest march, was also a funeral procession.

          Jesus had said so on three occasions. 

          Mark 8:31, “³¹‘Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.’ ³² He said all this quite openly.”

          Mark 9:31, “‘The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.’ ³² But [the disciples] did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.”

          Mark 10:32, “He took the twelve aside again and began to tell them what was to happen to him,³³ saying, ‘See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; ³⁴ they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.’”

          When Jesus rode into town to the tune of the hopeful “Hosanna’s,” he knew more was coming.  So too did the first community to read the book of Mark as a completed gospel.  The stories that informed Mark’s writing circulated through Christian communities from the very first days after the resurrection, but the document we find in our New Testaments as the book of Mark was not put together until after 60AD, maybe after 70 AD.

          When someone, maybe Mark himself, first stood and read this work in a worship service, the core group knew Jesus died on a cross.  And they believed it to be historical fact that he rose from the grave.  Some of the older members were probably among those who met the resurrected Jesus in person (see 1 Corinthians 15:5).  The disciples did not understand that after Palm Sunday would come Good Friday.  The day would only be called “good” for what it means, not how it feels. 

          As we go through Mark and see the utter lack of vision displayed by the disciples, we must extend them grace.  In their shoes, not knowing the resurrection was coming, we would do no better.  They, so close to Jesus and yet so blind, should be one more impetus to us to show grace upon grace.  That is why Jesus died out of love and as an act of compassionate love and grace for all sinners. For you and me.

          The shout, “Hosanna,” a quotation from Psalm 118:25 literally means “Save us, we pray.”  Those shouting it thought salvation would come with a new David, a new Goliath-slayer.  Clearly, they did not realize God had a different plan.  Their cry was appropriate though.  Jesus would save everyone in his death and resurrection.  Seeing the story as we do, from the standpoint of knowing how it turns out, we know that this parade in which Jesus protested violence, conquest, elitism, and many other pains that have resulted from the infestation of sin in the world – this parade was his funeral procession even before he was forced to drag his own cross to his place of execution.[ii]

          But it does not end there.  The story of Jesus and of us – following Jesus, running from Jesus, hiding from Jesus, denying Jesus, and ultimately being found by Jesus and made new by Jesus – this story does not end at the cross.

          It pauses there.  We cannot sing Hosanna’s Palm Sunday and then skip to the Hallelujah’s of Easter.  We have to go through the Thursday of bread and wine and washing feet.  We have to linger in the bloody, black darkness of Friday when our Savior was hung on the cross, nailed to it by our sins.  We have to worship in awareness of our dependence upon him. 

This drama plays out every time we gather.  We come as sinners saved by grace.  To say we are sinners means we have been hurt and we have hurt others.  It means we have cut ourselves off from God.  But, we are saved from this alienation and the death that comes with it.  We are saved to joyous eternal life, lived in relationships of love with one another as sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters in the family of God.  The highs and lows of this story must never be forgotten.

We acknowledge the pause, while remembering we are a people defined by the light on the distant hill, the light that emanates from an empty tomb.  The parade that is a protest that is in fact a procession to death in the end is a prelude to a new age.  At Thanksgiving, at Christmas, on Palm Sunday, on a nondescript Tuesday in August, and on every day in between, we are Easter people.  We are born again.  We are made new, called into eternal life in Christ.  The story of Palm Sunday is the introduction to the great work of literary art that speaks in words, in images, on the screen, and in way we live our lives.  It is the prequel to the greatest story that can be told, the unending life lived in the Kingdom of God and the part God invites us to play in it. 

Palm Sunday is our lead-in prepping us for resurrection.  But, more on that next week. 

This week, we worship and rejoice because of who Jesus is and who we are in Him.

AMEN

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[i] I got this from Kirby Lawrence Hill who was citing speculation from Borg and Crossan - http://jointhefeast.blogspot.com/2009/03/april-5-2009-mark-111-11-kirby-lawrence.html

[ii] Fred Craddock (2003) http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=2702

Palm Sunday Message

Jesus, the Humble King (Matthew 21:1-11)

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Palm Sunday 5^th Sunday of Church-wide Study - Culture Making

Why does the story begin this way?

“Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, "Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me."

There’s nothing spectacular, nothing of note. Why is this important?

Think … symbolism.

A young man drops to one knee before a young woman and holds out diamond ring. Do we need to hear him say, “Will you marry me?” We appreciate this special, memorable moment for those two people. The man’s gesture of kneeling doesn’t require explanation.

Every four years in January in Washington DC, the newly elected president places a hand on the Bible as he is sworn in to the highest office in the land. The day is rife with symbols. Does the scripture lend power and credibility and mystical wonder to the president, or is the Bible more important because the president touched it? Some of our leaders have been highly spiritual people. Others not so much. But no one elected president would miss the symbolic force of the moment. Each places his hand on that Bible.

Symbols matter.

The most liberated, independent woman in the world will have her dad walk her down the aisle in that white dress because symbols matter.

Jesus walked every where he went. Our feet couldn’t imagine the miles he and the disciples and most everyone else in the first century pounded. The walk into Jerusalem was routine. There would be no reason to ride, but Jesus rode. He was specific. He rode a donkey that was still tied to the maternal duty of caring for colt. Not exactly the best ride, but it is what Jesus chose. Why? Why ride a donkey? Why ride at all? Why a donkey that had a colt? Because symbols matter.

Here, Jesus proclaims the Kingdom of God, without speaking a word. He speaks to the disciples, but just to give simple instructions. Who cares that he sent them to fetch these animals. Matthew cared enough to include this little detail in a Gospel where plenty of the little details of daily life are overlooked. Matthew included this. On a donkey that is concerned for her colt who walks close beside, Jesus rides into Jerusalem.

As he does, his entrance evokes thoughts of scripture, specifically the prophet Zechariah. “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!” Zechariah says. “Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (9:9).

What an odd, mix-matched picture. A triumphant king riding a donkey? The people of Jerusalem remembered the stories of Alexander the Great. He conquered their ancestors, a Greek ruling in Jerusalem, the city of God. Alexander entered as a warrior, riding a black war horse. The generals who succeeded ruled with cruel violence as they desecrated the temple. Alexander was their memory, a memory colored by pain and shame.

Rome was the present reality, and Roman generals did not ride donkeys into town. Romans rode majestic white stallions. That horse, ridden by an armored soldier in resplendent finery let all who saw him know a conqueror had come. The picture expresses more than the greatest of speeches. The defeated people hoped he would rule them with benevolence.

And deep in the hearts of the people of God in Jerusalem was the hope of a Messiah, a savior who would be exactly what Zechariah said he would be – triumphant and victorious. Many took the prophet’s message very seriously and hoped in the deepest parts of their hearts, against the overwhelming evidence of history, that God would deliver them and restore the Land to them. In spite of the repeated defeats, many in Israel maintained their faith in God. They put all their hopes in God.

They just weren’t expecting Jesus, so it was hard to see the message he delivered, even though the symbols were clear. Jesus acted out the vision Zechariah had cast: a king riding into town. Why was it hard to recognize? We come after the fact. We know how it turns out. We aren’t more spiritual than the people of 1^st century Jerusalem. We don’t love God more than they did. We don’t know God better than they did. But, we live after the resurrection. We have Matthew’s Gospel. We know who Jesus was. Don’t we?

Jesus knew the prophecy of Zechariah and he brought it to life – a king on a donkey and not just a donkey. He was a king on a donkey with a foal along side. Only Matthew of the four gospel writers picks up that specific detail, two animals; the ultimate picture of vulnerability. As the white dress perfectly marks the bride, Jesus’ choice of animal declared not only his kingdom but that his kingdom would be one of peace, not war.

We know who Jesus was, don’t we?

He came not as a sword-wielding warrior, but as one who loved children and touched lepers and welcomed rejects. Jesus had power. The raging storm that he calmed and the l000’s of demons he destroyed would both agree Jesus had access to divine power. Satan himself knew that. Jesus went 40 rounds with Satan as he fasted in the wilderness. Weakened by hunger and tempted by ambition, Jesus and came out pure, unstained, and victorious. No army in history approached the might of Jesus, the power in his faith. Yet, he came, as Zechariah says, humbly, on a donkey. His choice of animals showed his intention to establish a kingdom of peace.

Zechariah 9:9 is quoted in Matthew. The next verse from the prophet, says, “He [the king] will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth” (Zechariah 9:10).

This was different from what first century people expected from a mighty king for two reasons. First, as we mentioned, the king would end war instead of ruling through victory in war. Second, the Zechariah vision extended beyond the Land of Israel. It was dominion from sea to sea and to the ends of the earth. We hear Jesus in Matthew 28:20, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” End of the earth. End of the age. Of course we aren’t there yet. It’s only Palm Sunday. We haven’t yet arrived at the cross. But that’s where Jesus is headed – to the most unexpected place of all. He will claim authority over all by dying on a cross.

The humility of Jesus’ approach in no way minimizes his claim. Michael Wilkins of Fuller Theological Seminary says, “There is no mistaking that Jesus proceeded into Jerusalem as the anticipated king, the messianic Son of David” (NIV Application Commentary, p.687). N.T. Wright, the great Anglican scholar writes, “That the symbols of Jesus’ work were deeply provocative, implying at every point that Israel was being redefined in and around him and his [deeds]” (The Challenge of Jesus, p.55). Wright feels the two great symbolic works of Jesus were to cast judgment on the temple by causing a ruckus as he overturned money changing tables and drove the animals out, and second to inaugurate his meal, which we call Communion or the Lord’s Supper, at the Passover. However, before those symbols could be established, Jesus rode into town in humility, but also as the only true king.

That is where the rubber meets the road for us. We know the story: Palm Sunday, the clearing of the temple, Maundy Thursday, the Last Supper with the 12, Good Friday, the cross – it all leads to Easter, Resurrection, and churches like ours raucously singing hymns of joy, praise, and victory. But does it take hold beyond Holy Week, or is all of this just an annual dance we do to get ourselves into spring time. Does the reality that Jesus is king mean that his followers in this world are living under his rule?

I think of British parliamentarian William Wilberforce. He went through a dramatic conversion to faith in Jesus Christ in the 1780’s, and then committed himself to work within government abolish the slave trade throughout the British Empire. His ideas went against the tide of his nation, the cultural trends of his time. But he wasn’t locked in the early 19^th century. He was a man in Christ. His true loyalty was to the King of Kings, the bringer of peace. So, he stayed at it not because he was successful but because it was the right thing to do. Finally, in 1806, the slave trade was ended and in the year of his death, 1833, slavery was outlawed in throughout lands governed by Britain.

Jesus came as a humble, peaceful king. Does it make any difference?

I think of Rachel who has served as a missionary in a Muslim country. She put on the veil and head covering because that’s how women dress where she lived. She endured loneliness and the oppressive life women are subjected to under fundamentalist Islam. Why would a woman in her 20’s with talent, education, and the many opportunities America offers undergo such personal sacrifice just to share the Gospel? Because her King told her to. The opportunities and tastes and consumerism of contemporary life don’t rule her. Jesus does and he told her to go, so she went.

Jesus rode into town, received the accolades of the singing, crying, shouting crowd. Does it make any difference in our lives when we say he is king?

I think of my dad and of Tim.[i] Tim went to high school with my sister. He is from a poor family and he is wheelchair bound. He also drools and his speech is greatly impaired. My sister was kind to Tim while they were classmates. On some occasions she brought him to church. Then she moved away, and Tim’s family became burdened with life. So, Tim, relegated to his bedroom, had no life. Then my dad started driving Tim to church. Tim’s a full grown man, so getting him into the vehicle can be a challenge. But, Dad does it often, and Tim is blessed. Why? Why do Dad and so many other Christians like him in Roanoke and Chapel Hill and towns all across America go out of their way to bless the Tims of the world? They do it because Jesus is King and in His Kingdom, no one is overlooked, all are included, and the rule is love.

“Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘behold your king is coming.’” My friends, in singing our worship songs of Palm Sunday, we proclaim that Jesus, our King, has come. I see the difference it makes

The Kingdom of God is here and it doesn’t matter who is in the White House. It doesn’t matter what country we are in. I see the Kingdom when love is the rule we live by. I see the Kingdom when our King’s words and teachings govern our actions toward one another. I see the Kingdom when students go without food to raise money to fight against the present evil of hunger. I see the Kingdom when people give one another rides to church because the community has to be together. I see the Kingdom when a student tells her boyfriend “no.” She’s waiting for marriage because that’s what her king wants her to do. I see the Kingdom when a man sacrifices career advancement and higher paychecks for the sake of time with his family because he knows His King doesn’t call Him to wealth; his King calls him to love.

I know all these examples aren’t directly related to the text of Matthew 21, but they are symbols, signs that people are living under the true King whose Kingdom knows no end. On the back of that donkey, Jesus announced that the King and the Kingdom had arrived. With that arrival, everything changed.

If you have not entered it His Kingdom, you are invited to today. You’re invited to ask Jesus into your life and to give your life and your complete loyalty to Him. Your life will be changed because you’ll be filled with perfect love and you’ll live under the rule of love. All other ways living fail to satisfy. But the Salvation He offers is complete and in Him, we are complete. There’s no other way, really, to go. Come, the Kingdom is here and the King invites you in.

AMEN

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[i] Name changed.