This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday April 26, 2009, the 3rd week of Easter.
Acts 3:12-19
Psalm 4
1 John 3:1-7
Luke 24:36b-48
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
In the immortal words of the great philosopher Yogi Berra, “It’s déjà vu all over again.” If you are wondering why the committee that put together the texts used for this the third week of the Easter season chose a rerun; your question is valid. My answer may leave you wanting, but your question is very, very good.
So today, as we read Luke’s gospel, we hear the echo from John’s that we read last week. But as with every echo, as the sound returns, it comes with distortions from the first hearing. The similarities between Luke’s version of Jesus’ return to the disciples and the version of the passage we read last week in John abound, and so do the differences. In both the disciples are afraid. In John’s gospel it is fear of the Jewish leadership establishment who spearheaded the crucifixion. In Luke’s gospel, the disciples were afraid because they thought they were seeing a ghost.
Both readings have Jesus affirming his physical presence. John’s gospel shows joyous disciples celebrating the physical return of the Lord in his resurrection body. In Luke’s gospel, the disciples were afraid of “Zombie Jesus.”
But Luke’s gospel gives us something wonderful, something so fully human. Jesus asks for a snack. The King of kings and the Lord of lords asks his buddies for a bite to eat. The fully divine Christ shows Jesus’ most fully human needs seeking hospitality.
Remember that these events took place on the day of the resurrection. This is the evening of Easter Sunday, and beginning with Good Friday, it’s been a hard weekend. Imagine how Jesus had spent those last three days…
First there is the ordeal with the cross that happens even before the Romans nail him to the thing. We have recently scrutinized the process of death by crucifixion in some detail, so let’s simply remind ourselves that it is a slow, painful death. Put on top of this the scalding Judean sun and the taste of the bitter wine from the branches of the hyssop.
Then there’s the whole “he descended into hell” thing. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians[i] gives us this piece of Jesus’ life-after-death-before-resurrection life. Scripture opens this can of worms, but it does not share the events that occurred during the death of the Lord. Even the creeds are silent on what happened while Jesus danced with the devil.
Just for good measure, let us not forget the doubters who suspect that Jesus was faking it; he was just in a coma or something like that. Well, the spear through his side into his lung and heart should have finished off that hypothesis. Jesus is not the object of a “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” scene screaming “I’m not dead yet!” So let us not quibble over this issue. Jesus died and let me say for the third week in a row, dead is dead.
This gives us yet another theological predicament, when we testify Jesus dies; we testify that God dies. We testify that God incarnate dies, not just the fully human Jesus of Nazareth, but the fully divine Christ of God dies too. Jesus and the Christ being one and the same, these essences cannot be separated one from another; not in heaven, not on earth, and not even in hell.
This is hard for us to wrap our heads around. It’s so hard that it lead one of the ancient church fathers, a priest named Arius, to say that Jesus and God are not of the same substance, to say that Jesus is not God. But we say this is a false teaching, a heresy. Jesus is God and is of God; in the words of the Nicene Creed, created not begotten.
If there was one experience that the God of creation never had, it was death. God created life and until that very moment nearly two thousand years ago on a garbage dump in the Judean sun, God’s own self had not personally known death. Death introduces itself to God that day, and for two days more the two square off.
We may not know exactly what “descended into hell” means, and this is as close as I am going to get today. So all things considered, is it any wonder Jesus needed a snack and maybe a little something to wash it down?
We learn what the disciples learn at this moment, we learn that Jesus conquers death. Jesus returns still fully human and still fully divine. He conquered death in that moment and for our salvation death remains conquered. Jesus meets the one thing that will ultimately conquer us all, and defeats death so that its sting is only fleeting.
In Christ’s victory over death, life is shown to be eternal, death only temporary. We testify this crying out with the words of the Apostles' Creed, “The third day he rose again from the dead.” We testify this crying out with the Easter declaration “He is risen, He is risen indeed.”
In resurrected life, Jesus performs the miracle of teaching us again and again the things he taught his disciples. In this story of Jesus resurrection appearance and its parallels, the promises of God are fulfilled; showing creation and the created that Jesus’ words about the future life of the community are the source of new life.[ii]
He opens us to the truth of the scriptures written about him and fulfilled by him. The truth of repentance and forgiveness of sins proclaimed in his name beginning from Jerusalem, the truth proclaimed from the ends of the world to your town.[iii]
While my musical tastes run toward classic and alternative rock, I love a good symphonic music. Particularly what I love are hearing musical themes repeat themselves like waves crashing. Sometimes they are played by different instruments or in different keys. Sometimes the tempo is changed, whether faster or slower, sometimes interpolated with other themes. I love it when a good theme is revisited and presented again.
It brings me back to an emotional, even spiritual place in the work that turns on a particular phrase of music. What I admire about this form is that while identified with classical music, the reprise is common to all genres of music. You can hear it in rock, you can hear it in country, and you can hear it particularly in soul music. Sergei Prokofiev does it in “Peter and the Wolf” and Pete Townshend does it in “Quadrophenia.” Today, in our reading from Luke we hear another reprise.
The theme is the story of Jesus’ resurrection appearance before his disciples; and the committee that put together the scripture list for our worship readings put these two messages together, one after another, so that we may hear the word of God and listen to the differences between the musical colors of the themes. John presents Jesus as a glorious being and Luke, the Good Physician Luke gives us Jesus who is a living man and not a ghost.
One gives us fear of the Jewish leadership establishment and the other fear of the resurrected Lord. Both give us God in fellowship with his disciples. Both provide food for the soul, while one provides food for the body. Today, at the table, in the Lord’s Supper; we celebrate the holy meal that feeds us body and soul by the bread and the cup.
Maybe this is the reason for our case of déjà vu all over again, so that we may hear the same story in a slightly different voice; so that we can see of the disciple’s experience from a different point of view. Different gospels focus on different elements; different pastors focus on different elements. Maybe we are hearing the same-story-only-different so that we may hear it again for the first time and so that it may seep into the recesses of our souls and our lives just a little bit deeper.
We hear the echo and we hear it reverberate throughout God’s good creation. We hear the words echo again; the words of God’s peace through the voice of the son Jesus Christ. We participate in the mystical presence of the one who comes into a room that is locked. We are invited to see and to touch his hands, feet, and side. We see the fully human, we touch the fully divine. In a musical sense, as one of these stories comes as point, the other comes as counterpoint.
Variations on a theme.
The theme of Christ’s life and our salvation.
This is life worth sharing. God gives us the tune and the lyric, and we are called to share it again and again as the great reprise of life everlasting ebbs and flows over us.
[i] Ephesians 4:9
[ii] New Interpreter’s Study Bible, Electronic Edition, Comment on John 20:19
[iii] Taupin, Bernie, “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy.” Dick James Music
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Twins
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday April 19, 2009, the 2nd week of Easter.
Acts 4:32-35
Psalm 131
1 John 1:1-2:2
John 20:19-31
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
In my opinion, Thomas, or “Doubting Thomas,” gets more abuse than he deserves for being skeptical. His tendencies to speak his mind and to ask questions when he doesn’t understand are admirable. Thomas was not a man to be persuaded with words alone. In John 14[1] when Jesus says “And you know the way to the place where I am going;” Thomas is the one who says, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” If we truly believe there is no such thing as a stupid question, then Thomas belongs in the hall-of-fame.
I imagine Thomas was a man of home spun wisdom. He had the “Show-Me” mentality that could make him our neighbor to the north today. He was deliberate and he was cautious. He has questions and he wants them answered. He has doubts and he wants them vanquished.
So it was the evening on the first day of the week, the day of Jesus’ resurrection; and the ten, not the twelve but the ten, had locked themselves in the house where they met. Who’s missing? Well, Matthew’s gospel records Judas’ death as an aside to the passion narrative, so he is obviously missing. As for Thomas, we have no idea where he is. Rugged individualist that he is, he is not with the others.
While the others receive the Holy Spirit; Thomas, the Marlboro Man[2] of the apostles, is out having a smoke.
So when the others got a hold of Thomas, he got an ear full. “We have seen the Lord!” they proclaimed loudly and gladly. They weren’t rubbing it in his face, I think they were rejoicing and wishing he had been with them to share the glory of the peace of the Lord and the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The Missouri Mule spirit that had served Thomas so well was not about to desert him. He knew what he had seen at the crucifixion and he knows dead is dead. He might have been willing to believe some sort of apparition, a Holy Spirit, but the physical presence of the Lord in the glory of his resurrection body struck him as unlikely.
He had to see the Lord Jesus for himself. He had to touch him. He needed the experience before he could believe it was true.
Don’t you wonder if Thomas didn’t stay close to home base for a while? Sure enough, a week later, it was the eleven together for fellowship. Give him credit, he wasn’t sure about the resurrection, but he still believed and still worshiped Jesus. Then just like the week before, Jesus came into the sealed room, stood among them, and said “Peace be with you.”
Quoting John’s gospel, “Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas, answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’”
Smithsonian Magazine some 30 years ago had a story about two men known as the “Jim Twins.” [3] They were identical twins separated at birth. When they were reunited at age 39, they found a startling number of similarities between them.
Both had been adopted by separate families in Ohio, and had grown up within 45 miles of each other. Both had been named James by their adoptive parents. Both had married twice; first to women named Linda and second to women named Betty. Both had children, including sons named James Allan.[4] Both had at one time owned dogs named Toy.
Dr. Thomas Bouchard of the University of Minnesota studied the personalities and attitudes of the Jim Twins, and the resulting similarities were again astonishing. In one test which measured personality variables, the twins scored so closely that it was as if one person had taken the test twice. Brain wave tests produced skyline-like graphs looking like two views of the same city.
Intelligence tests, mental abilities, gestures, voice tones, likes and dislikes, were similar as well. As for medical histories, both had high blood pressure, both had experienced what they thought were heart attacks, and both suffered from migraine headaches. They even used the same words to describe their headaches.
The twins discovered they shared the same habits too. Both chain-smoked, both liked beer, both had woodworking workshops in their garages. Both drove Chevys, both had served as Sheriff's deputies in nearby Ohio counties. They had even vacationed on the same beach on the Florida Gulf Coast. Both lived in the only house on their block. The same patterns shared by the Jim Twins occurred time and time again.
This isn’t the only example of identical twins being separated at birth. A Google search[5] reveals over 6,000 hits on the subject. (Of course, I don’t know how many of these articles are twin articles separated by Google.) There are thousands of stories of people who were raised in different environments, different households, yet turn out with amazing similarities.
Another one of my favorite “odd” birth stories, no where near as common as twins separated at birth, is twins with different birthdays. I don’t mean twins who were born a couple of minutes on either side of midnight, I mean days or even weeks. Known as interval delivery; it’s rare, but it happens. In the case of the Rugg family from Highlands Ranch, Colorado; twins were born 63 days apart.[6]
One of the twins was born four months premature. He weighed a mere one pound nine ounces. Everyone knew this baby was in dire straights, so when the doctors said that they could stop the labor before the second baby was born, the parents just looked at each other then the doctors and asked, “you can do that?”
So while the older twin, Adam, fought for his life in the neonatal intensive care unit at Presbyterian St. Luke’s Hospital in Denver, the second, Jayson was fighting to get stronger inside his mother's womb. Doctors were amazed that his mother was able to carry Jayson, more than two months after Adam’s birth.
Despite the fact that Adam had been in an incubator and Jayson had been in utero, the day the two were reunited they were virtually the same weight and height. So while one had spent two months in the real world, and the other had the benefit of two additional months in his mother’s womb, when they met again they were virtually the same.
I share these two stories to make a point about the apostle known as “the Twin.” Separated at birth both in time and space, and born of the same womb at different intervals, we are very much like Thomas. The 20th century rugged individualism that is an American trademark is not so far from the “not ‘til I see it with my own eyes and touch it with my own hands” of Doubting Thomas.
Like Thomas, we did not receive the Holy Spirit along with the ten on that first Easter Sunday so long ago. Like Thomas at the beginning of our reading we long to see Jesus, behold the glory of his face, and touch his hands and side. Like Thomas, we can find the resurrection difficult because we have not personally seen the person of the resurrection. Like Thomas we want to stand before the Lord and worship crying, “My Lord and my God.” We want to sing out adoring God in the happy chorus begun in the morning stars.
Being separated at birth in time and space, we will not have the same benefits Thomas had seeing his resurrected Lord. We are those who will be blessed as those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. Instead of the person of the resurrection, we see the fruit of the resurrection. Instead of the Lord in person, we see the Lord in works of charity and justice. We hear the word of the Lord in proclamation and in song. The promise of God’s grace is present when we celebrate of the sacraments. Whenever a child is loved, we see God at work in the world.
It’s redundant to call Thomas “Didymus” like the New International Version or “Twin” like our reading this morning because Thomas is a transliteration of the Aramaic word for “twin.” There is no explanation in scripture, or anywhere else I have found, about why he was called the Twin. So let us here and now resolve that issue and affirm that we are Thomas’ twin. We are the didymus of Didymus.
We are blessed like Thomas during the week between these two appearances of Jesus. We believe though we have not seen the physical manifestation of the resurrection. And we are blessed for we will be like Thomas and the day will come when we see Jesus again in his glory.
We read that Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, and we see around us that Jesus continues to do many other signs in the presence of his modern day disciples by the fruit of the Spirit. This so that we may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that though believing we may have life in his name.
Additional Resource…
Barker, William P., Personalities Around Jesus. Westwood, NJ: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1963.
[1] John 14:4-5
[2] Marlboro and Marlboro Man are registered trademarks, Philip Morris.
[3] Study of identical twins separated at birth and reunited later in life, http://iris.nyit.edu/~shartman/mba0120/twins.htm, retrieved April 18, 2009.
[4] As I remember from the original Smithsonian article, one was spelled Allan and the other Alan.
[5] Google search using term “identical twins separated at birth” on April 18, 2009.
[6] Twins born 63 days apart celebrate older twin’s birthday, http://www.9news.com/news/article.aspx?storyid=69412, retrieved on April 18, 2009.
Acts 4:32-35
Psalm 131
1 John 1:1-2:2
John 20:19-31
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
In my opinion, Thomas, or “Doubting Thomas,” gets more abuse than he deserves for being skeptical. His tendencies to speak his mind and to ask questions when he doesn’t understand are admirable. Thomas was not a man to be persuaded with words alone. In John 14[1] when Jesus says “And you know the way to the place where I am going;” Thomas is the one who says, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” If we truly believe there is no such thing as a stupid question, then Thomas belongs in the hall-of-fame.
I imagine Thomas was a man of home spun wisdom. He had the “Show-Me” mentality that could make him our neighbor to the north today. He was deliberate and he was cautious. He has questions and he wants them answered. He has doubts and he wants them vanquished.
So it was the evening on the first day of the week, the day of Jesus’ resurrection; and the ten, not the twelve but the ten, had locked themselves in the house where they met. Who’s missing? Well, Matthew’s gospel records Judas’ death as an aside to the passion narrative, so he is obviously missing. As for Thomas, we have no idea where he is. Rugged individualist that he is, he is not with the others.
While the others receive the Holy Spirit; Thomas, the Marlboro Man[2] of the apostles, is out having a smoke.
So when the others got a hold of Thomas, he got an ear full. “We have seen the Lord!” they proclaimed loudly and gladly. They weren’t rubbing it in his face, I think they were rejoicing and wishing he had been with them to share the glory of the peace of the Lord and the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The Missouri Mule spirit that had served Thomas so well was not about to desert him. He knew what he had seen at the crucifixion and he knows dead is dead. He might have been willing to believe some sort of apparition, a Holy Spirit, but the physical presence of the Lord in the glory of his resurrection body struck him as unlikely.
He had to see the Lord Jesus for himself. He had to touch him. He needed the experience before he could believe it was true.
Don’t you wonder if Thomas didn’t stay close to home base for a while? Sure enough, a week later, it was the eleven together for fellowship. Give him credit, he wasn’t sure about the resurrection, but he still believed and still worshiped Jesus. Then just like the week before, Jesus came into the sealed room, stood among them, and said “Peace be with you.”
Quoting John’s gospel, “Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas, answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’”
Smithsonian Magazine some 30 years ago had a story about two men known as the “Jim Twins.” [3] They were identical twins separated at birth. When they were reunited at age 39, they found a startling number of similarities between them.
Both had been adopted by separate families in Ohio, and had grown up within 45 miles of each other. Both had been named James by their adoptive parents. Both had married twice; first to women named Linda and second to women named Betty. Both had children, including sons named James Allan.[4] Both had at one time owned dogs named Toy.
Dr. Thomas Bouchard of the University of Minnesota studied the personalities and attitudes of the Jim Twins, and the resulting similarities were again astonishing. In one test which measured personality variables, the twins scored so closely that it was as if one person had taken the test twice. Brain wave tests produced skyline-like graphs looking like two views of the same city.
Intelligence tests, mental abilities, gestures, voice tones, likes and dislikes, were similar as well. As for medical histories, both had high blood pressure, both had experienced what they thought were heart attacks, and both suffered from migraine headaches. They even used the same words to describe their headaches.
The twins discovered they shared the same habits too. Both chain-smoked, both liked beer, both had woodworking workshops in their garages. Both drove Chevys, both had served as Sheriff's deputies in nearby Ohio counties. They had even vacationed on the same beach on the Florida Gulf Coast. Both lived in the only house on their block. The same patterns shared by the Jim Twins occurred time and time again.
This isn’t the only example of identical twins being separated at birth. A Google search[5] reveals over 6,000 hits on the subject. (Of course, I don’t know how many of these articles are twin articles separated by Google.) There are thousands of stories of people who were raised in different environments, different households, yet turn out with amazing similarities.
Another one of my favorite “odd” birth stories, no where near as common as twins separated at birth, is twins with different birthdays. I don’t mean twins who were born a couple of minutes on either side of midnight, I mean days or even weeks. Known as interval delivery; it’s rare, but it happens. In the case of the Rugg family from Highlands Ranch, Colorado; twins were born 63 days apart.[6]
One of the twins was born four months premature. He weighed a mere one pound nine ounces. Everyone knew this baby was in dire straights, so when the doctors said that they could stop the labor before the second baby was born, the parents just looked at each other then the doctors and asked, “you can do that?”
So while the older twin, Adam, fought for his life in the neonatal intensive care unit at Presbyterian St. Luke’s Hospital in Denver, the second, Jayson was fighting to get stronger inside his mother's womb. Doctors were amazed that his mother was able to carry Jayson, more than two months after Adam’s birth.
Despite the fact that Adam had been in an incubator and Jayson had been in utero, the day the two were reunited they were virtually the same weight and height. So while one had spent two months in the real world, and the other had the benefit of two additional months in his mother’s womb, when they met again they were virtually the same.
I share these two stories to make a point about the apostle known as “the Twin.” Separated at birth both in time and space, and born of the same womb at different intervals, we are very much like Thomas. The 20th century rugged individualism that is an American trademark is not so far from the “not ‘til I see it with my own eyes and touch it with my own hands” of Doubting Thomas.
Like Thomas, we did not receive the Holy Spirit along with the ten on that first Easter Sunday so long ago. Like Thomas at the beginning of our reading we long to see Jesus, behold the glory of his face, and touch his hands and side. Like Thomas, we can find the resurrection difficult because we have not personally seen the person of the resurrection. Like Thomas we want to stand before the Lord and worship crying, “My Lord and my God.” We want to sing out adoring God in the happy chorus begun in the morning stars.
Being separated at birth in time and space, we will not have the same benefits Thomas had seeing his resurrected Lord. We are those who will be blessed as those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. Instead of the person of the resurrection, we see the fruit of the resurrection. Instead of the Lord in person, we see the Lord in works of charity and justice. We hear the word of the Lord in proclamation and in song. The promise of God’s grace is present when we celebrate of the sacraments. Whenever a child is loved, we see God at work in the world.
It’s redundant to call Thomas “Didymus” like the New International Version or “Twin” like our reading this morning because Thomas is a transliteration of the Aramaic word for “twin.” There is no explanation in scripture, or anywhere else I have found, about why he was called the Twin. So let us here and now resolve that issue and affirm that we are Thomas’ twin. We are the didymus of Didymus.
We are blessed like Thomas during the week between these two appearances of Jesus. We believe though we have not seen the physical manifestation of the resurrection. And we are blessed for we will be like Thomas and the day will come when we see Jesus again in his glory.
We read that Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, and we see around us that Jesus continues to do many other signs in the presence of his modern day disciples by the fruit of the Spirit. This so that we may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that though believing we may have life in his name.
Additional Resource…
Barker, William P., Personalities Around Jesus. Westwood, NJ: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1963.
[1] John 14:4-5
[2] Marlboro and Marlboro Man are registered trademarks, Philip Morris.
[3] Study of identical twins separated at birth and reunited later in life, http://iris.nyit.edu/~shartman/mba0120/twins.htm, retrieved April 18, 2009.
[4] As I remember from the original Smithsonian article, one was spelled Allan and the other Alan.
[5] Google search using term “identical twins separated at birth” on April 18, 2009.
[6] Twins born 63 days apart celebrate older twin’s birthday, http://www.9news.com/news/article.aspx?storyid=69412, retrieved on April 18, 2009.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Endings as Beginnings
This sermon was heard during the 11:00 service at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday April 12, 2009, Easter/Resurrection of the Lord Sunday.
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
1 Corinthians 15: 1-11
Mark 16:1-8
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Sesame Street has a skit that helps teach children differences between items in groups. We can probably all sing it together, “One of these things is not like the other.” If you put the resurrection stories from the gospels together in a room, you would be able to see that one of these things is not like the other. Mark’s gospel is decidedly different. It is far more abrupt than the other three accounts.
Matthew’s version includes the bribing of the guard by the chief priests and Jesus giving the apostles the Great Commission. The Lukan story includes the wonderful account of Jesus breaking bread with two of the Jerusalem pilgrims as they return home to Emmaus. Luke’s version then extends into the book of Acts with the story of the ascension. John’s is far more extensive with the Doubting Thomas discourse, the command to “feed my sheep,” and the account of the great catch of fish.
These are wonderful and glorious stories of the things Jesus has done after his resurrection. These stories show how our Lord continues to share life with his disciples, and by this we are promised a continuing relationship with the Lord; a relationship that continues today.
Mark’s version has no such wonderful tales of what happens next. Mark’s gospel gives us just three women who are a fine combination of terrified, amazed, and afraid. Instead of rejoicing and dancing in the streets, instead of a common meal being shared, instead of the physical presence of the Lord in his resurrected body with its earthly wounds still present; Mark’s gospel ends with three women fleeing in shocked silence from the open tomb.
Mark’s gospel jerks to a stop like a dog tied to a stake. This is not the ending we expect to the greatest story ever told. Between you and me, I love Mark’s gospel and I even love this ending, but if I am looking for a happy ending, a glorious resolution, the ending I expect on Easter morning; this one leaves me wanting.
Now you can tell me I don’t have to worry; depending on the translation, there is either one more or a dozen more verses that follow where our lectionary reading ended. These endings give us more of the “feel good” ending we have come to expect. But these additions to Mark’s gospel, the single verse “Shorter Ending to Mark” or the twelve verses known as “The Longer Ending to Mark,” were added between 100 and 150 years after the original text was compiled.[1]
In a very human way, this should give us comfort. More than 1,800 years ago, someone else was so unsatisfied with the ending to Mark’s gospel that they tacked on a whole new finale.
These additional endings are like a Hollywood movie that didn’t do well with test audiences so a new ending was written, shot, and tacked on at the end. It brought closure to a work that people didn’t think ended well the way it was first presented.
But the original ending, the one we hear today, as unsatisfying as it may be, leaves us with truth; the truth of someone who was once dead and buried is now neither; and that’s a bit of truth to wrap our heads around. Indeed, people don’t expect the dead to be up walking around and fear is not an unreasonable reaction.
Marie and I are big fans of ABC’s “stranded on a mysterious tropical island” show “LOST.” Last Wednesday’s episode dealt with the consequences of a recently dead character named John coming back to life after returning to the island; and this isn’t the first time this character’s life was revived by the mysterious healing properties of the island.
As Ben, the shows major antagonist, awakens after being injured, he sees John standing over him. The last time Ben saw John, John was dead and in a casket. Ben himself knows the island’s healing abilities. When he sees John, he cries out in shock that he knew John would return to life. Noting the quiver in Ben’s voice, John asks “Then why are you so surprised to see me?”
With an amazed look on his face Ben answers, “Because it’s one thing to believe it, John; it’s another thing to see it.”[2]
As with any good antagonist, you can never be sure if Ben is telling the truth, and this storytelling truism is on display later in the episode when another character asks Ben if he knew John would be revived if he returned to the island. Ben answers “I had no idea it would happen.” Ben says he has seen the island do miraculous things, but he continues “never once has it done anything like this. Dead is dead, you don’t get to come back from that, not even here. So the fact that John Locke is walking around this island scares the living hell out of me.”
Just to put the cherry on this whacked out sundae of a TV show, John, the character who comes back to life says “It’s weird for me too.”
Let me make this perfectly clear, I am not comparing John’s return to life with the Resurrection of our Lord. I said that John came back to life and was revived, but I do save the word resurrected for our Lord. What I am doing is comparing the character’s reaction to John returning to life and the women’s reaction to the revelation about Jesus and the empty tomb. Ben says it scares the living hell out of him. Even John, the man who was revived, was surprised he returned to the living.
Now imagine this happening at a tomb in Jerusalem and not on a Hawaiian soundstage. The three women were terrified.
We shouldn’t be surprised at the terror the three women felt that first Easter. They came to the tomb planning to finish the burial preparations. Jesus had died so near the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath — sundown on Friday — that there had not been enough time to anoint his body. So now, on Sunday morning, with the Sabbath finished, the three women head to the tomb to finish the sad task hardly begun on Good Friday. Their first concern was how to get the stone moved away from the tomb entrance. The last thing they expected was that Jesus would have left the tomb, especially under his own power.
They were heartsick with grief, but they were at least functioning. Death wasn’t welcome, but it wasn’t some new thing. They knew what they were supposed to do, and they were beginning to adjust to the fact that Jesus was gone. Resurrection, however, was something entirely out of their realm of experience. It was an entirely new thing, and it scared the wits out of them. They were not prepared for such news.[3]
And we are not unlike them.
We hear the Easter story every year; we hear the story of the Last Supper, the betrayal of Christ, the trial, crucifixion, death, and resurrection. And yes, we hear the story and we believe. This makes us Christians, we hear and by faith we believe.
Armed with this truth, knowing how Mark’s version of the story ends without ending puts the pen in our hand. This is the ultimate truth of the abrupt ending of Mark’s gospel. The truth of the resurrection is in the continuing life of Jesus Christ lived with his disciples after Mark’s recording ended. The ultimate truth is that He continues living with his disciples in the church today and He lives with us still.
As literature, Mark’s gospel has an ending, one that is not satisfying to readers who want stories to end with closure. But as Gospel this is a good thing; it is a very good thing. The good news of Jesus Christ is still being written. To coin a phrase, our reading from Mark’s gospel represents the end of the beginning.
Act one is finished. God walked upon the earth; was crucified, dead and buried; and now, now the tomb is empty. The big question is “what next?” and the big answer can only come by participating in the work God has begun, accepting the relationship our Lord and his disciples modeled, and doing what we are called to do.
The writing of Mark’s gospel has ended, but for us this ending is just the beginning. This is our vocation; we are the next writers of the story. The pen is in our hands and it is up to us as the Church of the Risen Lord and as individual members of the Church to continue writing this story. Today let us begin our version of the ending as the new beginning using the words of the ancient liturgy “He is risen. He is risen, indeed.” Alleluia. Amen.
[1] “Extended Ending” HomileticsOnline.com. http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/btl_display.asp?installment_id=93040450, retrieved April 2, 2009
[2] ABC Pictures and Bad Robot Studio, “LOST” Original broadcast April 8, 2009.
[3] Ibid, HomileticsOnline.com, Bob Kaylor, Senior Writer, and Senior Minister of the Park City United Methodist Church in Park City, Utah.
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
1 Corinthians 15: 1-11
Mark 16:1-8
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Sesame Street has a skit that helps teach children differences between items in groups. We can probably all sing it together, “One of these things is not like the other.” If you put the resurrection stories from the gospels together in a room, you would be able to see that one of these things is not like the other. Mark’s gospel is decidedly different. It is far more abrupt than the other three accounts.
Matthew’s version includes the bribing of the guard by the chief priests and Jesus giving the apostles the Great Commission. The Lukan story includes the wonderful account of Jesus breaking bread with two of the Jerusalem pilgrims as they return home to Emmaus. Luke’s version then extends into the book of Acts with the story of the ascension. John’s is far more extensive with the Doubting Thomas discourse, the command to “feed my sheep,” and the account of the great catch of fish.
These are wonderful and glorious stories of the things Jesus has done after his resurrection. These stories show how our Lord continues to share life with his disciples, and by this we are promised a continuing relationship with the Lord; a relationship that continues today.
Mark’s version has no such wonderful tales of what happens next. Mark’s gospel gives us just three women who are a fine combination of terrified, amazed, and afraid. Instead of rejoicing and dancing in the streets, instead of a common meal being shared, instead of the physical presence of the Lord in his resurrected body with its earthly wounds still present; Mark’s gospel ends with three women fleeing in shocked silence from the open tomb.
Mark’s gospel jerks to a stop like a dog tied to a stake. This is not the ending we expect to the greatest story ever told. Between you and me, I love Mark’s gospel and I even love this ending, but if I am looking for a happy ending, a glorious resolution, the ending I expect on Easter morning; this one leaves me wanting.
Now you can tell me I don’t have to worry; depending on the translation, there is either one more or a dozen more verses that follow where our lectionary reading ended. These endings give us more of the “feel good” ending we have come to expect. But these additions to Mark’s gospel, the single verse “Shorter Ending to Mark” or the twelve verses known as “The Longer Ending to Mark,” were added between 100 and 150 years after the original text was compiled.[1]
In a very human way, this should give us comfort. More than 1,800 years ago, someone else was so unsatisfied with the ending to Mark’s gospel that they tacked on a whole new finale.
These additional endings are like a Hollywood movie that didn’t do well with test audiences so a new ending was written, shot, and tacked on at the end. It brought closure to a work that people didn’t think ended well the way it was first presented.
But the original ending, the one we hear today, as unsatisfying as it may be, leaves us with truth; the truth of someone who was once dead and buried is now neither; and that’s a bit of truth to wrap our heads around. Indeed, people don’t expect the dead to be up walking around and fear is not an unreasonable reaction.
Marie and I are big fans of ABC’s “stranded on a mysterious tropical island” show “LOST.” Last Wednesday’s episode dealt with the consequences of a recently dead character named John coming back to life after returning to the island; and this isn’t the first time this character’s life was revived by the mysterious healing properties of the island.
As Ben, the shows major antagonist, awakens after being injured, he sees John standing over him. The last time Ben saw John, John was dead and in a casket. Ben himself knows the island’s healing abilities. When he sees John, he cries out in shock that he knew John would return to life. Noting the quiver in Ben’s voice, John asks “Then why are you so surprised to see me?”
With an amazed look on his face Ben answers, “Because it’s one thing to believe it, John; it’s another thing to see it.”[2]
As with any good antagonist, you can never be sure if Ben is telling the truth, and this storytelling truism is on display later in the episode when another character asks Ben if he knew John would be revived if he returned to the island. Ben answers “I had no idea it would happen.” Ben says he has seen the island do miraculous things, but he continues “never once has it done anything like this. Dead is dead, you don’t get to come back from that, not even here. So the fact that John Locke is walking around this island scares the living hell out of me.”
Just to put the cherry on this whacked out sundae of a TV show, John, the character who comes back to life says “It’s weird for me too.”
Let me make this perfectly clear, I am not comparing John’s return to life with the Resurrection of our Lord. I said that John came back to life and was revived, but I do save the word resurrected for our Lord. What I am doing is comparing the character’s reaction to John returning to life and the women’s reaction to the revelation about Jesus and the empty tomb. Ben says it scares the living hell out of him. Even John, the man who was revived, was surprised he returned to the living.
Now imagine this happening at a tomb in Jerusalem and not on a Hawaiian soundstage. The three women were terrified.
We shouldn’t be surprised at the terror the three women felt that first Easter. They came to the tomb planning to finish the burial preparations. Jesus had died so near the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath — sundown on Friday — that there had not been enough time to anoint his body. So now, on Sunday morning, with the Sabbath finished, the three women head to the tomb to finish the sad task hardly begun on Good Friday. Their first concern was how to get the stone moved away from the tomb entrance. The last thing they expected was that Jesus would have left the tomb, especially under his own power.
They were heartsick with grief, but they were at least functioning. Death wasn’t welcome, but it wasn’t some new thing. They knew what they were supposed to do, and they were beginning to adjust to the fact that Jesus was gone. Resurrection, however, was something entirely out of their realm of experience. It was an entirely new thing, and it scared the wits out of them. They were not prepared for such news.[3]
And we are not unlike them.
We hear the Easter story every year; we hear the story of the Last Supper, the betrayal of Christ, the trial, crucifixion, death, and resurrection. And yes, we hear the story and we believe. This makes us Christians, we hear and by faith we believe.
Armed with this truth, knowing how Mark’s version of the story ends without ending puts the pen in our hand. This is the ultimate truth of the abrupt ending of Mark’s gospel. The truth of the resurrection is in the continuing life of Jesus Christ lived with his disciples after Mark’s recording ended. The ultimate truth is that He continues living with his disciples in the church today and He lives with us still.
As literature, Mark’s gospel has an ending, one that is not satisfying to readers who want stories to end with closure. But as Gospel this is a good thing; it is a very good thing. The good news of Jesus Christ is still being written. To coin a phrase, our reading from Mark’s gospel represents the end of the beginning.
Act one is finished. God walked upon the earth; was crucified, dead and buried; and now, now the tomb is empty. The big question is “what next?” and the big answer can only come by participating in the work God has begun, accepting the relationship our Lord and his disciples modeled, and doing what we are called to do.
The writing of Mark’s gospel has ended, but for us this ending is just the beginning. This is our vocation; we are the next writers of the story. The pen is in our hands and it is up to us as the Church of the Risen Lord and as individual members of the Church to continue writing this story. Today let us begin our version of the ending as the new beginning using the words of the ancient liturgy “He is risen. He is risen, indeed.” Alleluia. Amen.
[1] “Extended Ending” HomileticsOnline.com. http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/btl_display.asp?installment_id=93040450, retrieved April 2, 2009
[2] ABC Pictures and Bad Robot Studio, “LOST” Original broadcast April 8, 2009.
[3] Ibid, HomileticsOnline.com, Bob Kaylor, Senior Writer, and Senior Minister of the Park City United Methodist Church in Park City, Utah.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Two Stories
This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday Arpil 5, 2009, the 6th Sunday in Lent, also known as Palm Sunday.
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark 11:1-11, 15:1-41
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
As you all know, if there is a reading or interpretation of scripture that is a touch off of the ordinary, I’m going to take a look at it. This week’s reading from Jesus’ Triumphant Entry into Jerusalem is no exception. You would think that after nearly 2,000 years of interpretation that this story, found in all four gospels, would be milked for all it’s worth; but this is not the case. In a new commentary, one of this story’s major details has been reinterpreted.
Reading this piece, we know that Jesus comes into Jerusalem from the road that comes from Bethany and Bethphage. We know that Jesus comes to town on the back of a colt that has never been ridden. We know that the apostles have put their cloaks on the back of the colt. We know that Jesus and the apostles come into town as a part of a great procession who have come for the Passover festival. We know that many people spread their cloaks on the road and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.
This is where it gets interesting.
When we read this, we assume that all of the pomp and revelry is in the name of the Lord Jesus. The people scream out “Hosanna! Blessed is the one that comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” We know that the people rejoice because they are in the presence of God on earth. Right?
Well, maybe not.
James D. Ernest offers another view. He writes that strewing the way with greenery is not an unusual welcome for pilgrims processing into town for major feasts.[1] The words of the crowd, the “hosanna” and “blessed is the coming kingdom” are words that could have been used at any Passover procession. These words from Psalm 118[2] that were used in today’s Call to Worship were used for many holy festivals, this one is no different. What we think of as special, dedicated to Jesus, was not specific to this celebration at all. These two events in particular could have been common for any Passover celebration.
So while the apostles and the disciples were heralding the coming of the kingdom, everyone else was in the revelry of the Passover alone. That’s a twist, isn’t it? Imagine the Passover procession coming into town like a carnival. Imagine the dancing and revelry, and in the midst of this comes a man on the back of a colt.
To our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters, it’s like the Pontiff riding in the Pope-mobile through the French Quarter on Mardi Gras. Presbyterians? We don’t have anything like it.
But there’s something different happening too. Where these words from Psalm 118 were used for many holy festivals, this one is different. This too is Ernest’s point.[3] This one is different because Jesus has ridden into Bethlehem on the back of a colt. Not only have the apostles put their cloaks on the colt, but many revelers have put their cloaks down over Jesus’ path. This act invokes a royal welcome reserved for the Kings of Israel.[4] While many were too wrapped up in their revelry to notice what was going on, others knew exactly what this act proclaimed in Roman controlled Palestine.
Long before he started drawing “The Simpsons,” Matt Groening created a cartoon called “Life in Hell.” These single panel comics appear in alternative newspapers around the country. One of my favorites is a 1988 panel showing a parade.[5] There are elephants and a band. There are banners flying in the breeze. The crowd is at least six deep on the sidewalk watching the pageantry. But in the lower right hand corner, the last place your eye goes in any illustration, there is a one-eared bunny named Bongo. He’s sitting on the curb and watching a line of ants wander into the crowd.
There are two parades going on in this cartoon. There is the one the crowd is focused on and the other Bongo sees. There is a carnival going past and there is a string of tiny insects headed off to their daily grind. I have always liked this cartoon because it shows me that even in the grandest event, there is always more than one thing happening. This panel shows us that the sight of life’s mundane daily business may be more interesting than a parade.
This is what I see going on in this story, though not as severely as the cartoon. There are two parades going on at the same time. One of them is the parade of the pilgrims entering Jerusalem for the Passover. They are being welcomed by shouts from the crowds. They are walking on the palm leaves just as we did today when we entered the sanctuary.
Then there is the other parade that is even more joyful. This is the parade of those who hear the cries of “Hosanna! Blessed is the one that comes in the name of the Lord! ” and realize that they are living the history that others are only dreaming about. While some people shout “blessed is the coming kingdom” others know they are rejoicing the coming of the King himself.
Some people march into Jerusalem celebrating the coming kingdom of God’s glory; others are living in the new kingdom as God’s glory comes into town. There are two different parades and those who have come for the Passover alone don’t know what Paul Harvey called “the rest of the story.”
Robert Frost wrote the poem “The Road Not Taken,” a verse about a man who reminisces about coming to a fork in the road and considering which one he would take and the way it has shaped his life. It is often seen as an inspirational poem about taking “the road less traveled.” But Frost never intended this interpretation.[6] For Frost, a key line was in the second verse as the traveler concluded:
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
In reality, with all of the talk of the romance of taking “the road less traveled,” in truth both paths are essentially the same. The paths aren’t so different from one another and either path leads to the final destination.
In the final stanza, Frost reveals the irony of the situation of the road, that the mythology of taking “the road less traveled” is one of nostalgia. If there is truly a difference between the paths, it’s that the difference is in our minds shaping how we remember our journey, what was and what could have been.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I want to make a big deal out of the two stories being told in our gospel reading, but in the end, both stories take us to the same ending place, the holiest days of the year to Christians: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday; the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I have just said that many of those pilgrims and many of the people who lined the way welcoming those pilgrims did not realize they were celebrating Jesus’ Triumphant Entry into Jerusalem. Only after the whole of history had been turned on its ear did they realize they were a part of something extra special.
Robert Frost gloriously tells us whether we are the crowd six deep on the sidewalk celebrating the parade of pilgrims or little Bongo watching the ants is not important because there is no real difference between the two. The difference is only in our memories. Even if the parade does not recognize who Jesus is on Palm Sunday, we know who he is on Easter Sunday.
In a sermon delivered on a Palm Sunday some thirty years ago, Kurt Vonnegut said you can leave it to a crowd to look to the wrong end of a miracle.[7] This morning, I prefer Robert Frost who tells us that the crowd will find the miracle regardless of the choices made. This could even be a shadow of grace. Still, it is necessary that we recognize the right end of this miracle.
In a few moments, we will say these words, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” We have two choices of how we say it, two choices about who “the one” is. The first choice is that we are the one, individually and as the church. Blessed are we who come and partake of the Lord’s Supper. The other is to rejoice that Jesus is the one. He is the one who has come in the name of the Lord entering Jerusalem triumphantly.
What is our choice, let us celebrate both. We come in joy in the name of the one who is able to more than we could ever hope or imagine. That’s worth celebrating.
[1] Ernest, James D. Feasting on the Word. Year B, Volume 2. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, page 157.
[2] Psalm 118:26ff.
[3] Ibid, Ernest.
[4] 2Kings 9:13
[5] Groening, Matt, Childhood Is Hell. New York: Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, 1988, page 30.
[6] The Road Not Taken (Poem), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Road_Not_Taken_(poem), retrieved April 4, 2009.
[7] Vonnegut, Kurt, Palm Sunday. New York: Delacorte Press, 1981.
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark 11:1-11, 15:1-41
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen
As you all know, if there is a reading or interpretation of scripture that is a touch off of the ordinary, I’m going to take a look at it. This week’s reading from Jesus’ Triumphant Entry into Jerusalem is no exception. You would think that after nearly 2,000 years of interpretation that this story, found in all four gospels, would be milked for all it’s worth; but this is not the case. In a new commentary, one of this story’s major details has been reinterpreted.
Reading this piece, we know that Jesus comes into Jerusalem from the road that comes from Bethany and Bethphage. We know that Jesus comes to town on the back of a colt that has never been ridden. We know that the apostles have put their cloaks on the back of the colt. We know that Jesus and the apostles come into town as a part of a great procession who have come for the Passover festival. We know that many people spread their cloaks on the road and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.
This is where it gets interesting.
When we read this, we assume that all of the pomp and revelry is in the name of the Lord Jesus. The people scream out “Hosanna! Blessed is the one that comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” We know that the people rejoice because they are in the presence of God on earth. Right?
Well, maybe not.
James D. Ernest offers another view. He writes that strewing the way with greenery is not an unusual welcome for pilgrims processing into town for major feasts.[1] The words of the crowd, the “hosanna” and “blessed is the coming kingdom” are words that could have been used at any Passover procession. These words from Psalm 118[2] that were used in today’s Call to Worship were used for many holy festivals, this one is no different. What we think of as special, dedicated to Jesus, was not specific to this celebration at all. These two events in particular could have been common for any Passover celebration.
So while the apostles and the disciples were heralding the coming of the kingdom, everyone else was in the revelry of the Passover alone. That’s a twist, isn’t it? Imagine the Passover procession coming into town like a carnival. Imagine the dancing and revelry, and in the midst of this comes a man on the back of a colt.
To our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters, it’s like the Pontiff riding in the Pope-mobile through the French Quarter on Mardi Gras. Presbyterians? We don’t have anything like it.
But there’s something different happening too. Where these words from Psalm 118 were used for many holy festivals, this one is different. This too is Ernest’s point.[3] This one is different because Jesus has ridden into Bethlehem on the back of a colt. Not only have the apostles put their cloaks on the colt, but many revelers have put their cloaks down over Jesus’ path. This act invokes a royal welcome reserved for the Kings of Israel.[4] While many were too wrapped up in their revelry to notice what was going on, others knew exactly what this act proclaimed in Roman controlled Palestine.
Long before he started drawing “The Simpsons,” Matt Groening created a cartoon called “Life in Hell.” These single panel comics appear in alternative newspapers around the country. One of my favorites is a 1988 panel showing a parade.[5] There are elephants and a band. There are banners flying in the breeze. The crowd is at least six deep on the sidewalk watching the pageantry. But in the lower right hand corner, the last place your eye goes in any illustration, there is a one-eared bunny named Bongo. He’s sitting on the curb and watching a line of ants wander into the crowd.
There are two parades going on in this cartoon. There is the one the crowd is focused on and the other Bongo sees. There is a carnival going past and there is a string of tiny insects headed off to their daily grind. I have always liked this cartoon because it shows me that even in the grandest event, there is always more than one thing happening. This panel shows us that the sight of life’s mundane daily business may be more interesting than a parade.
This is what I see going on in this story, though not as severely as the cartoon. There are two parades going on at the same time. One of them is the parade of the pilgrims entering Jerusalem for the Passover. They are being welcomed by shouts from the crowds. They are walking on the palm leaves just as we did today when we entered the sanctuary.
Then there is the other parade that is even more joyful. This is the parade of those who hear the cries of “Hosanna! Blessed is the one that comes in the name of the Lord! ” and realize that they are living the history that others are only dreaming about. While some people shout “blessed is the coming kingdom” others know they are rejoicing the coming of the King himself.
Some people march into Jerusalem celebrating the coming kingdom of God’s glory; others are living in the new kingdom as God’s glory comes into town. There are two different parades and those who have come for the Passover alone don’t know what Paul Harvey called “the rest of the story.”
Robert Frost wrote the poem “The Road Not Taken,” a verse about a man who reminisces about coming to a fork in the road and considering which one he would take and the way it has shaped his life. It is often seen as an inspirational poem about taking “the road less traveled.” But Frost never intended this interpretation.[6] For Frost, a key line was in the second verse as the traveler concluded:
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
In reality, with all of the talk of the romance of taking “the road less traveled,” in truth both paths are essentially the same. The paths aren’t so different from one another and either path leads to the final destination.
In the final stanza, Frost reveals the irony of the situation of the road, that the mythology of taking “the road less traveled” is one of nostalgia. If there is truly a difference between the paths, it’s that the difference is in our minds shaping how we remember our journey, what was and what could have been.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I want to make a big deal out of the two stories being told in our gospel reading, but in the end, both stories take us to the same ending place, the holiest days of the year to Christians: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday; the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I have just said that many of those pilgrims and many of the people who lined the way welcoming those pilgrims did not realize they were celebrating Jesus’ Triumphant Entry into Jerusalem. Only after the whole of history had been turned on its ear did they realize they were a part of something extra special.
Robert Frost gloriously tells us whether we are the crowd six deep on the sidewalk celebrating the parade of pilgrims or little Bongo watching the ants is not important because there is no real difference between the two. The difference is only in our memories. Even if the parade does not recognize who Jesus is on Palm Sunday, we know who he is on Easter Sunday.
In a sermon delivered on a Palm Sunday some thirty years ago, Kurt Vonnegut said you can leave it to a crowd to look to the wrong end of a miracle.[7] This morning, I prefer Robert Frost who tells us that the crowd will find the miracle regardless of the choices made. This could even be a shadow of grace. Still, it is necessary that we recognize the right end of this miracle.
In a few moments, we will say these words, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” We have two choices of how we say it, two choices about who “the one” is. The first choice is that we are the one, individually and as the church. Blessed are we who come and partake of the Lord’s Supper. The other is to rejoice that Jesus is the one. He is the one who has come in the name of the Lord entering Jerusalem triumphantly.
What is our choice, let us celebrate both. We come in joy in the name of the one who is able to more than we could ever hope or imagine. That’s worth celebrating.
[1] Ernest, James D. Feasting on the Word. Year B, Volume 2. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, page 157.
[2] Psalm 118:26ff.
[3] Ibid, Ernest.
[4] 2Kings 9:13
[5] Groening, Matt, Childhood Is Hell. New York: Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, 1988, page 30.
[6] The Road Not Taken (Poem), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Road_Not_Taken_(poem), retrieved April 4, 2009.
[7] Vonnegut, Kurt, Palm Sunday. New York: Delacorte Press, 1981.
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