Sermon on matthew 21:1-11
There are some odd elements in this reading. How strange is it that these two disciples can just walk into town and take the needed animals, simply by saying, “The Lord needs them.” During a discussion of my sermon from this morning with some of the folks at Fortney, one member of the congregation pointed out that if a couple of strangers had walked up to her and told her that the Lord needed her car, that wouldn’t be enough for her to part with it. I have to say that I agree with her. I’d a least need a little more information, proof of insurance, that sort of thing.
In thinking about the strangeness of this event this week, I began to wonder if Jesus hadn’t set it up in advance somehow and just didn’t bother to explain the situation to the two disciples. I think that might be a good metaphor for our ministry and discipleship. Jesus doesn’t have to explain to us why we are supposed to love our enemies. We just are, because Jesus told us to. Simple enough. Jesus wouldn’t have told us to do it without good reason.
I find it interesting that these two disciples don’t seem to question the order at all. I can imagine myself saying, “You want me to do what? What do I say if he says no? What if he calls the police?” Maybe that means I’m looking for too much information, trying to intrude into plans that are God’s alone. Of course, if I heard the voice of God telling me to start confiscating people’s livestock, I’d question my sanity rather than God. But we have clearer commandments from Jesus, commandments like “love your enemies” and “sell all you have and give it to the poor”, really difficult stuff, we resist obeying, hoping for a little better explanation, demanding to know why.
The other really odd thing in today’s reading is the fact that all these strangers, this huge crowd, has gathered together to worship. Maybe some of them are familiar to each other–after all, they live and work in the same city. But few of them know each other well. They’re in different lines of work. Some are farmers, some are teachers, some are salespeople or small-business owners. Yet, in spite of their lack of familiarity, the gather together to worship.
Kind of like us gathered here tonight. I promised the Grayville congregation this morning that I wouldn’t repeat this morning’s sermon tonight, but I’m going to break that promise a little bit. I’m going to repeat some of the major themes, so if any folks from Grayville or Fortney doze off for a while, I won’t mind, but could whoever’s sitting next to them wake them up in a few minutes? In this reading for Palm Sunday, we find this crowd of strangers coming together to praise Jesus. If this was all that was going on, there would be no point in coming back to this every year. But in this reading, we find an example for us. Actually, we find an example and a warning.
These people, these strangers, gather around Jesus with a passion and a sense of excitement. They believed this man to be the prophet of God, the Son of David, coming at long last. They longed for God in such a palpable way that all their other concerns vanished when the messiah came into view. These people were not just hanging around the gates of the city waiting for Jesus. These were people with messages or goods to deliver, people on their way home for supper or to a friend’s house to hang out after a long day of work. But nothing, whether it was their job or their personal life, mattered when the long-expected messiah appeared among them. They forgot about the destinations or goals and celebrated, honoring Jesus and proclaiming “Hosanna”.
And that’s what we’re doing. We’re missing out on family dinner, or a new episode of The Simpsons, or on a quiet evening at home with a good book. We have dropped all our other engagements, denied all our other priorities, to gather here tonight to celebrate the entry of the Son of Man into the City of God. We shout our “Hosannas” and sing praises to the king.
The warning, however, is a dark one. These people who gathered around Jesus were like new converts, John Wesley with his heart “strangely warmed” on Aldersgate Street. They feel more passion than humility, more excitement than grace. And they have expectations of Jesus. What they are praising is a warrior king, a man like David. They want someone to lead them in battle against their enemies, not a peaceful teacher who commands them to love their enemies. They want someone to violently overthrow their imperialist oppressors, not someone who will surrender to Roman tyranny in order to be faithful to God. These people are like new Christians, full of expectation for the seemingly magical effects Jesus will have on their lives. They expect things from Jesus he simply cannot deliver.
As the week goes on, as their relationship with Jesus deepens, they discover that their expectations will not be met. Jesus is a man who renounces violence, who gives to Caesar that which is Caesar’s. So instead of taking Caesar’s main weapon, violence, and seizing control of the government of Palestine, he surrenders himself to Caesar’s decision. After all, the state controls justice. God, on the other had, controls mercy, grace, and love, all things alien to the justice system of Rome. Caesar can call Jesus a criminal and take his life, but mercy, grace, and love can turn even Rome’s evil act into a blessing.
But the crowd hasn’t seen this blessing yet. All they know is that the man they were willing to follow into rebellion against their oppressors has surrendered to the oppressors. He failed to fulfill their expectations. Their enthusiasm and passion turns to disappointment. What they felt they were promised never materializes, and because they did not get what they wanted, their faith vanishes, as well. They lose their trust in God.
This is our warning. There are a lot of Jesus-abusers in the church today, people who want things from Jesus he never promised. People looking to Jesus for wealth or beauty or even happiness. If we look to Jesus for these things, then, as surely as those who expected him to be a warlord were shattered, we will be shattered, as well. In this case, it is not Jesus who failed. It is we who failed. It is our church who failed. We stumble, and, blaming Jesus for our own error, begin to call out with the rest of the world, “Crucify him, crucify him”.
But this is Palm Sunday, not Good Friday. While the crowds celebrate, we have a little advantage over them. We have other sermons and other deeds of Jesus. We know things about him they don’t, so maybe we can learn better from this story what to expect from him. Instead of riding in on a mighty war horse, he rides in on a donkey and a foal. We can see in this his humility and his commitment to peace. He could have just as easily ridden a powerful white steed, but he chose this meeker option. If we are faithful, we see a hint of Jesus’ true nature here.
He rides these animals to fulfill the words of the prophet Zechariah. Jesus studied the words of the prophets. The Old Testament prophets were dedicated to peace through justice, an end to slavery, and the freedom of all God’s people from oppression. The prophets longed for a time when justice would roll down like waters, and peace like an ever-flowing stream. The prophets beat swords into plowshares. A man who followed their teachings would not pick up a sword and ride a war horse into battle, even with a monster like Rome.
So what can we expect from Jesus? Jesus promises us life abundant. He doesn’t promise us a life free from suffering. In fact, he suggests that suffering will most likely occur in our lives if we are faithful to him, just as he experienced suffering through his faithfulness. Like those gathered around him to shout “Hosanna”, we have trouble seeing the value in that. We want more than “abundant life”. But we have to have the humility to remember that just because God didn’t explain things to us doesn’t mean we can’t count on God’s faithfulness.
If we spend our lives in pursuit of good health, we will very likely achieve it. But like all earthly things, health will eventually fail us. If we spend our lives working for wealth, we will very likely become wealthy, but wealth will certainly fail us. But if we spend our lives striving for faithfulness, we will be disciples of Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ will be faithful to us. The abundant life he promises is most likely beyond what we can imagine. It may well contain periods of death and disease, of starvation and persecution. Our faith, however, carries us through this patches. Faith, put simply, is trusting God, and God is the only trustworthy thing in the universe. Just because we can’t anticipate exactly what God’s faithfulness will look like, just because we can’t see how God walks with us, doesn’t mean our faithfulness will fail, as long as we are trusting Jesus to do as he says he will, not as we want him to.
Faith that longs for a trouble-free life is not faith in God, and faith in anything other than God will always fail. Those citizens of Jerusalem who wanted a warrior king didn’t have faith in God. Their faith lay in the ways of the world, the ways of violence and war. The two disciples who went off to collect the donkey and the foal had no plan. They had no understanding of how their task could possibly succeed. They were sent to do a ridiculous thing. But they did it. They obeyed their teacher. They did as Jesus said, and their faith in Jesus was fulfilled.
We look around us, and we cannot imagine a world in which turning the other cheek can solve our problems. We can’t imagine a world in which loving our enemies can keep us safe. We can’t imagine a world in which selling all we have and giving it to the poor does anything but make us poor. God hasn’t explained to us how it will work. All we know is that it is the only path to the world God want. It is the only way to achieve abundant life, that life with God that Jesus had and so desperately wants us to have. Our faithfulness without answers, our trust without explanations, is our only tool. God will reward our faithfulness not with riches or success or health or maybe even understanding but with his own faithfulness, with a life lived with God. For the grace to long for that faithfulness with every fiber of our being, thanks be to God. Amen.