Don't Judge a Book by Looking at the Cover

This sermon was heard at St. Paul Presbyterian Church in Carthage, Texas on Sunday March 24, 2013, Palm Sunday.

Isaiah 50:4-9a

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

Philippians 2:5-11

Luke 19:28-40

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen.

On Palm Sunday there were so many things happening in Jerusalem. It’s not anything like our Palm Sunday celebrations. The only thing that comes close in our society is the day before Ash Wednesday, the day when we are supposed to get all of the animal fat out of the home in preparation for Lent. Some call it Shrove Tuesday, others Fat Tuesday; we know it more as Mardi Gras. Imagine the festivities being at that high of a fever pitch and you have the idea of what’s happening on that first Palm Sunday.

Because it was the beginning of the Passover, a spectacle was in effect. Our reading tells us the Messiah was surrounded by disciples. Often in the gospels when we read “disciples” it means more than the original twelve, so there were dozens and were more likely hundreds or even thousands of people along the path. Strangely for Palm Sunday, there is no mention of palms being laid out in Luke’s gospel. These disciples laid their cloaks along the road. They came from all around to be a part of the scene. This part of the city was in turmoil, the entry of this one man stirred the pot of Jerusalem. Everything was being shaken up by Jesus’ entry into the city of David.

This part of Jerusalem is shaken to its core by the entry of he who comes fulfilling the word of the Lord. Considering the number of visitors who were in Jerusalem for the Passover, the height of the religious tourism season, this shouldn’t be unexpected. While most of the 40,000 locals probably knew who Jesus was, many of the 200,000 visitors may never have heard of him until this moment.[i]

But then again, this Messianic entry may not have been completely unexpected; Jerusalem has a history of parading kings.

The people of Jerusalem had long expected the coming of the Messiah, the Christ, the anointed. They expected the coming of the one who would save Israel from its oppression. Egyptian, Babylonian, and now Roman, the people anxiously waited for the one who would save them from their enemies.

They waited for the new David who would ride triumphantly, a warrior king who would come on a great war horse to save the people from their oppressors. They were waiting for someone like Moses who took them from Egypt to the Promised Land.  They were waiting for a political leader to restore the nation to its proper place in the land.

The history of the Jews is steeped with parades of Kings entering Jerusalem. In Ancient Israel before David was king, the Philistines had captured the presence of God, the Ark of the Covenant.  After David became king, after the Ark was regained by the Israelites, the king danced at the front of the procession leading its return to Jerusalem. A parade of 30,000 men accompanied the Ark on its return to Jerusalem.

After a false start, the parade started and once it did, it stopped every six steps so that David could make an offering of an ox and fatted calf. David led the procession of men and the Ark wearing a linen ephod and dancing with all his might.[ii]  

While Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem wasn’t as spectacular as David’s, it was a spectacle. The triumphant entry had people throwing their clothes everywhere.

Yet Jesus does not come dancing in his like David with the Ark. Jesus doesn’t lead a procession of 30,000 men. Who the people received in Luke’s gospel was the vision of another ancient leader, one who rode a donkey because they had better footing on the rocks and hills of ancient Israel than a war horse. Today’s procession features the one who rides a colt, a symbol of humility. Then again, Jesus wasn’t bringing the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. He was bringing himself, the New Covenant, into Jerusalem.

The Messiah who comes to town was no conquering hero; he was the ancient image of the humble leader. He is the leader who would die for his people, not one who would send millions to die in his stead.

Our reading is different from the words of the ancient prophets, priests, and kings. Instead of the Ark of the Covenant holding the presence of God; Jesus, the true presence of God, Emmanuel, comes to Jerusalem. Fully human and fully divine, God comes to town as the person of Jesus Christ. In David’s time, God is returning to Jerusalem as the glorious center of the pageant. In our reading, Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of Man, God in flesh on earth, comes to Jerusalem humbly for the Passover.

Two biblical scholars, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crosson provide another side to this story; one not found in scripture; the story from the other side of town. They imagine that while Jesus and all the crowds are celebrating his triumphal entry; on the opposite side of town the Roman Governor of Palestine, Pontius Pilate, is himself entering town.[iii]

Pilate, like every other political leader, never travels without his entourage, and this time his party is large and well-armed. The Passover was traditionally a time of political uprising in Palestine. This year there was talk of a new prophet in the hills north of Jerusalem. A man named Jesus from Nazareth. If he came to town there could be trouble and like any good Roman Governor, Pilate would be ready for trouble.

So Borg and Crosson write that as Jesus comes to town, Pilate comes loaded for bear. Pilate would be ready for the nearly quarter-million residents and visitors and any rabble they carried in their wake. There would be more than enough soldiers, there would be more than enough arms, and Pilate rode at the head on his war steed to show that he meant business.

You’ll never find this story in the bible because it’s based on extra-biblical sources, histories written outside of the church.  It’s not in any church history or anything else I’ve ever read, but according to other writings and the results shown in biblical history, this probably happened exactly how they propose.

To add ceremony to substance, the Roman garrison was probably engaging in some sort of maneuvers daily. I imagine that in Jerusalem and in every other town that held Roman troops, there would be some sort of daily military procession. Not that this is a Roman thing, this is how conquering armies behave in occupied lands. They’re the boss and they continually show who the boss is, and the parade is one very good way.

So while there would be the daily parade, on this day, right before the Passover, in front of a quarter million Jews, the Romans come to town to show just who’s in charge. They come in armor, they carry state of the art arms, they even march their provisions along with the rest of the parade to show that they’re in it for the long haul and they mean business. And again, Pilate rode at the head on his war steed.

So there we are. Jesus has lit the fuse as he rides into Jerusalem on the colt and the donkey. The crowds on this side of Jerusalem praise him laying their cloaks before him crying “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”

In the meantime, on the other side of town, Pilate and the power of Rome come into Jerusalem in their own parade. They come into town to keep the peace, whether by right or by might, they will keep the peace. It doesn’t matter how many are killed, they will keep the peace. If they have to kill thousands they will keep the peace. If they have to kill just one man, they will keep the peace.

Among the people who know what’s happening on both sides of town are the Pharisees. The church leadership is the first line to keep the people in line and in order. If they are unable to keep order, there are a bunch of Roman troops who have just finished their parade who would be more than happy to try out their weapons for real.

This is why the Pharisees confront the Lord. This is why they beg “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” Of course Jesus knows trying to thwart the march of prophecy is futile. He knows that he will not be able to silence the people, and even if the people went still the stones would shout out to the Lord in heaven and on earth.

The people rejoiced. They witnessed the triumphant entry and scared the dickens out of the Pharisees without really knowing what they were seeing.

People who know me well know my love for old music. Today’s sermon title is an homage to song by Willie Dixon and recorded by Bo Diddley called “You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover.” While age is a relative thing, at the age of 50, this song is old by most people’s standards. The first verse goes like this:

You can't judge an apple by looking at a tree,

You can't judge honey by looking at the bee,

You can't judge a daughter by looking at the mother,

You can't judge a book by looking at the cover.

Oh can't you see,

Oh you misjudge me,

I look like a farmer,

But I’m a lover,

You can't judge a book by looking at the cover. [iv]

The people expected a big ruler who would take care of their big needs. They were excited when Jesus came into town because they thought that the new king would come into Jerusalem and make their dreams of freedom come true. They were partially right; the new king came to town. What they didn’t realize is that Jesus was more than just a king; he was the King of Kings. That’s what happens when you judge a book by looking at the cover. Paul’s epistle helps us see beyond the cover and into the man who is fully human and the God who is fully divine.

Paul reminds us first that Jesus the Christ is equal to God, and that Jesus did not regard his equality as something to be exploited. Without discarding them, Jesus emptied himself of his rightful fully divine trappings to be the fully human Jesus of Nazareth for the world.

This humility did not remove Jesus from his relationship with his Father, nor did it prevent him from exercising his Lordly authority, when cleansing the temple for example.  Rather, what Jesus emptied himself of was any wanting to exploit his godliness for his own glory. People often ask why Jesus doesn’t just come down now and make right all that is wrong with the world.  Why doesn’t he just come with his power and take care of business? Perhaps it is so that he may exalt the entire Godhead, the whole Trinity, not just himself. 

To show how far he is willing to go to empty himself, he was obedient to his father, even to the point of his own death on the cross.

Paul continues; because Jesus emptied himself, because Jesus became a slave to God and to all God created, because Jesus humbled himself to the point that he poured out his life like a drink offering emptied from its vessel; because of this, God also highly exalts him and gave him the name that is above every name. For this, every knee will bend, in heaven and on earth, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

He was God. He is God. He has always been God. He will always be God. But Jesus of Nazareth emptied himself of title and status to do God’s work on earth; despite the fact that he was judged by his cover.

Because we can now see beyond the cover, we are called to look beyond the cover. We are to look beyond the covers worn by Jesus and by his disciples. Because we enjoy the benefits of life in Christ, we are called to respond to the grace of God by sharing the life of Christ with the world. It is up to us to seek our Lord, God in Three Persons, and find our spots to share the gospel. For if we don’t, well, we see the example of those who don’t on Good Friday. When we don’t respond to the word of God in word and deed we are no better than those who reject Jesus on the way to the cross.

Let us scream, let us rejoice, let us take all of the fun away from the stones. Let us cry out “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”

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[i] Rollefson, John, “Feasting on the Word, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary.” David L. Bartlet and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010, page 154

[ii] 2Samuel 6

[iii] Ibid. Rollefson, page 153.

[iv] Dixon, Willie, “You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover.” 1962

The Ultimate April Fools Prank

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday April 1, 2012, the 6th Sunday in Lent, Palm Sunday.

Sorry, no podcast this week due to recording failure.

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

In 1992 the morning team at Denver’s NewsRadio 850 KOA reported that former Oakland Raiders quarterback Ken Stabler had signed on with the Denver Broncos. In a live interview with the Colorado Morning News team on the Denver Bronco Radio Network flagship station, Stabler said how excited he was to come out of retirement and play for such a storied organization as the Denver Broncos.

I heard this announcement and interview live on the air while driving to work in Lamar, over 200 miles from Denver. From that distance I could hear the Bronco faithful from all over the Rocky Mountain region go completely insane. In a time before cell phones were handy and affordable, the 850KOA switchboard lit up with a white hot passion.

I remember this from twenty years ago because I can remember what kind of stupid move I thought this was. Stabler had retired seven years earlier after a final stint with the Saints. He retired because his knees were French, wheat, rye, and Melba—they were toast. On top of that, Stabler was hated not just in Denver, but all over the AFC West because of his propensity to win games late. Bronco quarterback John Elway may have been the Comeback Kid, but the Snake did it first. Thus, Kenny Stabler was absolutely, bile splittingly hated in Denver. I thought to have him, his reputation, his years of rust, and his lousy knees suddenly on the Denver bench would be a recipe for disaster.

For you Dallas Cowboy fans, it would be like the ‘Boys bringing former Washington Redskins QB Mark Rypien in 2010 while Tony Romo was the undisputed king of Cowboy Stadium. Actually, bringing Doug Williams in 2000 to play opposite Troy Aikman would be a better example for many Cowboy fans.

I don’t have any idea who would fill in these blanks for Saints fans.

Then it dawned on me. You see, it wasn’t “nearly” twenty years ago, and it wasn’t “almost” twenty years ago, it was exactly twenty years ago. It was twenty years ago to the day making this in my opinion one of the best April Fools pranks ever. As the network flagship station KOA had impeccable credibility. Stabler cooperating with the prank and doing the call-in interview was spot-on. The whole thing was done so incredibly well that the city of Denver and Bronco faithful within earshot fell for it.

The response was huge during the days of “dime-a-minute” long distance. Imagine how it would have blown up in this time of free long distance, sports blogs, smart phones, twitter, facebook, and other social media. This could have easily gone from drowning the KOA switchboard to crashing their website and the Bronco site too. As pranks go, it was just that good.

I’m happy to say I figured out it was a prank before I got to work, but they had me hooked long enough to formulate the “what a stupid move” response I just shared with you. If I had a smart phone I might have pulled over to send a text and join the fools. It was a great joke.

On this April Fools Day, this Palm Sunday, this is what I want us to think about, Jesus pulling the ultimate April Fools prank on creation. He rode in like a king, but he wasn’t the king the people thought he was. The king they thought he would be would be the one who would free them from the tyranny of Rome. Instead, Jesus frees us from the slavery of sin and death.

Mark describes a scene fit for a king. Jesus sends his disciples into town to get a colt that has never been ridden. The word used in the Greek version of Mark’s gospel describes any young animal used for riding or burden. It could have been an ass or a burro or a donkey or a horse. It’s also traditional to translate this word “colt” because of the “never been ridden” qualifier. The word means an animal that is old enough to be useful in the city and fields, but for whatever reason, this one had never been ridden.

Yet, this colt that had never been ridden might have been a young steed whose rider of worth had not yet been found. Albeit young, this could have been a horse of majesty Jesus rides in on. If not, maybe the people saw such majesty in Jesus that the colt took on a grander presence. Especially a mount covered in cloaks.

The point I’m making is that Mark’s gospel could be showing us a majestic charger, the kind of horse that would be ridden by a general or king entering battle. It isn’t the same humble donkey and her colt we read about in Matthew’s or John’s gospels. This year, Mark’s gospel describes the possibility of a grander beast bringing Jesus into Jerusalem.

So as Jesus prepares to mount this colt, not only did the apostles put their cloaks on the mount, but many revelers have put their cloaks down over Jesus’ path.  This act invokes a royal welcome reserved for the coming triumphant Kings of Israel.

Scripture mentions this in 2Kings 9. In this chapter, Jehu is made King of Israel. In verse 13 the people put their cloaks under his bare feet after he tells them he was anointed king. Jehu and his fellow officers then go to Jezreel to face Joram king of Israel and Ahaziah king of Judah. Jehu eventually kills these kings and Jezebel. His triumphant entry is complete.

As Jesus rides into Jerusalem, many knew what this act proclaimed in Roman controlled Palestine. They were remembering the story of Jehu when they placed their cloaks before Jesus. They knew that they were proclaiming a military and political messiah who would save them from their plight with their Roman overlords.

Of course I’m sure there were others were simply too wrapped up in the revelry of the Passover to notice the signs. They showed up because everybody loves a parade. I am convinced that where ever you go, some folks just show up for the show; first century lookie-loo’s if you will.

We know what happens next, the crowds begin to sing out:

“Hosanna!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!”

“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Then he entered Jerusalem and he went to the temple. He looked at everything, but seeing it was already late, they went to Bethany.

I love this phrase, “it was already late.” The New Living Translation gets a little more specific, it says “he left because it was late in the afternoon.” This was probably accurate too, but I prefer the simple phrase “it was already late.”

To say “it was late in the afternoon” is to talk about appointments and who is in town and who is not. It talks about Jerusalem and about the time of day. It’s true as far as facts go, but I believe there is a truth that goes beyond the facts when Jesus says “it was already late.”

To declare it was already late puts an urgency and intentionality into Jesus’ acts which a time of day cannot convey. When Jesus says it’s late, he’s saying that there is still much to do to prepare his disciples for the events of the week to come.

In our reading from John last week we established that all of the dominoes had fallen into place. All was ready for the end of this part of Jesus’ ministry, but with the end coming there was a sense of urgency. There was still much to do and Jesus had much to teach.

This teaching included what it meant to be the Messiah. This teaching meant what it means to live in the coming kingdom of our father David. It meant that it was time to leave the childish ways of human enterprise behind and open themselves to the most holy of holies.

It meant what Paul wrote to the Philippians about being in the same mind as the Christ Jesus. It means emptying themselves as Jesus emptied himself of Godly form, honor and privilege. It meant taking on the nature of a servant. It meant humbling themselves, even to the ultimate price for the holiest name of all names. It means the same to us too.

It means we are not to revel in what we think we deserve. We are not to flex the muscle of Christ so that we may gain. It is to empty ourselves of what we think is important so that we can seek, discover, and do what the Lord thinks is important to do.

How’s that for an April Fools joke? The people in this passage celebrate the triumphant entry of a political and military Messiah who is not The Messiah. The people see a warrior, but not God Incarnate; a king, but not the Lord who is prophet, priest, and king.

On top of that, it’s an April Fools joke on us today. We aren’t important because of what we think is important. We aren’t important because of folks who hold us in esteem because of our jobs or houses or cars. Some might even fear us because of who we are and what we can do. What creation thinks is important usually is not. Our importance is in our relationship with our heavenly Father.

We’ll see just how far this prank goes as Jesus the Christ goes to dinner on Maundy Thursday, the cross on Good Friday, and remains in the tomb on Holy Saturday. Then we’ll see what happens on Easter Sunday. We’ll watch as Jesus says “April Fools” to the world.

Lighting the Fuse

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday April 17, 2011, the 6th Sunday of Lent, Palm Sunday.

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Isaiah 50:4-9a

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

Philippians 2:5-11

Matthew 21:1-11

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen

Saturday mornings means cartoons, and I hope it always will. People of different ages look at Saturday morning cartoons differently. There are the unnatural motions of the oldest “Popeye” and “Mickey Mouse” cartoons. These are great if for no other reason that they are the root of the tree from which all cartoons followed. Then again, these cartoons were made for the movie theaters, not for the small screen.

The next generation of cartoons, the first made for television was the old “Tom and Jerry” style cartoons. The plot was constantly recycled, cat chases mouse, but the imagination of the situations combined with some of the best Pre-Pixar artwork in cartoons made this generation of work special.

The Saturday mornings of my childhood wouldn’t have been complete without “School-House Rock” or “Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids” which always tried to teach something. These were great, but for me, the best was “The Road Runner.” Yes, it’s “Tom and Jerry” with a coyote and a bird, but there was something more to it for me. The Road Runner was a one-trick pony, speed and more speed; but Wile E. Coyote lived up to his name, he was wily.

The coyote is of course the lonesome loser, he’s never going to get the Road Runner, but he’s never going to give up either. He’s always plotting and conniving a new way to catch his prey. While I read Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, there is one type of Road Runner scene that resonated with me.

The scene, reinvented in many different ways, is where the coyote lights a fuse on some sort of explosive. It could be a rocket or it could be a stick of dynamite. He lights the fuse and waits behind a rock waiting for the Road Runner to zip past at the exact moment of the explosion.

I always wondered what a stick of dynamite would do to a small bird but my parents would just tell me to go with it. Oh well.

My question never needed an answer of course because the Road Runner would rush past before it could explode; then the coyote would always have to go and take a closer look at his contraption. Sometimes it was immediate, sometimes the coyote would have enough time to strike a pose to dash off, but always the bomb would explode right underneath ol’ Wile E.  Then the look of disgust would be on his face while I laughed.

These scenes aren’t parallel, but as we’ll see; on the triumphant entry into Jerusalem Jesus lit the fuse; and there’s going to be a big, big bang that will change the world.

So how is the fuse lit? It begins as Jesus gets ready to enter Jerusalem. The preparations begin as Jesus commands two of his disciples: “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me.”

A reminder: Matthew’s gospel was written to the first congregations of Jewish Christians. So to Matthew, it was important for the writer to connect the Hebrew Scriptures to the life of Jesus. This connection was important to the listeners too. This is why Matthew follows these instructions with this commentary, “This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet,” the words of Zechariah 9:9:

“Say to the Daughter of Zion,

‘See, your king comes to you,

gentle and riding on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”

Matthew’s version of the triumphant entry is silent about whether or not the disciples had to tell the owner of the beasts that the Lord needed them, but since we are told they did as they were instructed we can assume they did if it was necessary.

It is spectacular the way the crowd is assembled. The knowing and the curious surround the Messiah.  They come from all around to be a part of the scene.  People are climbing trees and cutting down branches.  Others are taking off their cloaks and spreading them on the road.  This part of the city was in turmoil, the simple entry of this one man stirred the pot of Jerusalem.  Everything was being shaken up by Jesus’ entry into the city of David.

This part of Jerusalem is shaken by the entry of he who comes fulfilling the word of the prophet. The end of our reading reminds us that while these crowds knew who Jesus was, most of the city didn’t. Considering the number of visitors who were in Jerusalem for the Passover, the height of the religious tourism season, this shouldn’t be unexpected. While most of the 40,000 locals probably knew who Jesus was, many of the 200,000 visitors may never have heard of him until this moment.[1]

But then again, this Messianic entry may not have been completely unexpected; Jerusalem has a history of parading kings.

The people of Jerusalem had long expected the coming of the Messiah, the Christ, the anointed. They expected the coming of the one who would save Israel from its oppression.  Egyptian, Babylonian, and now Roman, the people anxiously waited for the one who would save them from their enemies.

They waited for the new David who would ride triumphantly, a warrior king who would come on a great war horse to save the people from their oppressors.  They were waiting for someone like Moses who took them from Egypt to the Promised Land.  They were waiting for a political leader to restore the nation to its proper place in the land.

The history of the Jews is steeped with parades of Kings entering Jerusalem.  In Ancient Israel before David was king, the Philistines had captured the presence of God, the Ark of the Covenant.  After David became king, after the Ark was regained by the Israelites, the king danced at the front of the procession leading its return to Jerusalem.  A parade of 30,000 men accompanied the Ark on its return to Jerusalem.

After a false start, the parade started and once it did, it stopped every six steps so that David could make an offering of an ox and fatted calf.  David led the procession of men and the Ark wearing a linen ephod and dancing with all his might.[2]

While Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem wasn’t as spectacular as David’s, it was a spectacle. The triumphant entry had people hanging from the trees and throwing their clothes everywhere.

Yet Jesus does not come dancing in his like David with the Ark. Jesus doesn’t lead a procession of 30,000 men. Who the people received in Matthew’s gospel was the vision of another ancient leader, one who rode a donkey because they had better footing on the rocks and hills of ancient Israel than a war horse. Today’s procession features the one who rides a colt, a symbol of humility.

Then again, Jesus doesn’t bring the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. He is the New Covenant coming into Jerusalem.

The Messiah who comes to town was no conquering hero; he was the ancient image of the humble leader. He is the leader who would die for his people, not one who would send millions to die in his stead.

Our reading is different, instead of the Ark of the Covenant that holds the presence of God; Jesus, the true presence of God, comes to Jerusalem.  Fully human and fully divine, God comes to town as the person of Jesus Christ.  In David’s time, God is returning to Jerusalem as the glorious center of the pageant.  In our reading from Matthew, Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of Man, God in flesh on earth, comes to Jerusalem humbly for the Passover.

This is the lighting of the fuse, the fuse that leads to a powder keg.

Two biblical scholars, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crosson provide another side to this story; the story from the other side of town. They imagine that while Jesus and all the crowds are celebrating his triumphal entry; on the opposite side of town the Roman Governor of Palestine, Pontius Pilate, is entering town himself.[3]

Pilate, like every other political leader, never travels without his entourage, but this time his party is large and well armed. The Passover was traditionally a time of political uprising in Palestine. This year there was talk of a new prophet in the hills north of Jerusalem. A man named Jesus from Nazareth. If he came to town there could be trouble and like any good Roman Governor, Pilate would be ready for trouble.

So Borg and Crosson write that as Jesus comes to town, Pilate comes loaded for bear. Pilate would be ready for the nearly quarter-million residents and visitors and any rabble they carried in their wake. There would be more than enough soldiers, there would be more than enough arms, and Pilate rode at the head on his war steed to show that he meant business.

You’ll never find this story in the bible because it’s based on extra-biblical sources, histories written outside of the church.  It’s not in any church history or anything else I’ve ever read, but as we discussed this during the Thursday bible study, I said it was plausible.

This is when Tom Malcolm added this insight. It was probable that the Roman garrison had some sort of maneuvers daily.

As soon as Tom mentioned this I knew that he was right; and Borg and Crosson were right too. Everyday in Jerusalem and in every other town that held Roman troops, there would be some sort of military procession. Not that this is a Roman thing, this is how conquering armies behave in occupied lands. They’re the boss and they continually show who’s boss, and the parade is one very good way.

So while there would be the daily parade, on this day, right before the Passover, in front of a quarter million Jews, the Romans come to town to show just who’s in charge. They come in armor, they carry state of the art arms, they will even march their provisions along with the rest of the parade to show that they’re in it for the long haul and they mean business. And again, Pilate rode at the head on his war steed.

So there we are. Jesus has lit the fuse as he rides into Jerusalem on the colt and the donkey. The crowds on this side of Jerusalem praise him laying their cloaks and branches before him crying “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest heaven!  This is the prophet Jesus!”

In the meantime, on the other side of town, Pilate and the power of Rome come into Jerusalem in their own parade. They come into town to keep the peace, whether by right or by might, they will keep the peace. It doesn’t matter how many are killed, they will keep the peace. If they have to kill thousands they will keep the peace. If they have to kill just one man, they will keep the peace.

The powder keg is lit and it leads to Pilate and the glory of Rome. The fuse he lights also leads to the Temple, and the scribes and the Pharisees. The fuse is lit; the course of history has begun. Eventually the spark will reach the charge and an explosion the world has not forgotten will blow.

In the mean time, much will happen:

There will be prophecy, and there will be prophecy fulfilled.

There will be scrutiny, and there will be examination.

There will be a supper, and there will be a betrayal.

There will be a trial, and there will be a judgment.

There will be a torturous death, and there will be a glorious resurrection.

All of this will happen as the fuse burns, but those things happen this week, not today. Next Sunday we’ll read about the big, big bang that changes the world. As for today, we hear the cry of the people in the streets. We hear the people cry out “hosanna!” We hear the crowd crying, “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest heaven!  This is the prophet Jesus!”

Hosanna—what a wonderfully glorious call, by the time of Matthew’s gospel it had become a sort of a “holy hurrah.”  But let us remember what Hosanna truly means: “Lord, we beseech you. Lord we beg of you.”[4] Lord, we beseech you, come. Lord, we beg of you, come, come again, and take your rightful place in creation and in our very lives.

Hosanna! The fuse is lit. Let it burn.

And I’ll see you next Sunday for the big explosion.

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[1] Rollefson, John, “Feasting on the Word, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary.” David L. Bartlet and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010, page 154

[2] 2Samuel 6

[3] Ibid. Rollefson, page 153.

[4] New Interpreters Bible, vol VIII, Keck, Leander, Editor. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, page 403.

Without Words

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday March 28, 2010, Palm Sunday, the 6th Sunday in Lent.

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 19:28-40

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

There are choices we are called to make everyday as it comes to how we walk with our Lord. For me, one example is our reading for today. Usually, the lectionary gives us four readings for the day, one from the Old Testament and another from the epistles; also there is a reading from the psalms and another from the gospels. Today, it’s not that simple.

The lectionary provides several choices of scriptures used in today’s worship. This week there is only one reading from the Old Testament and another from the epistles so those choices are made, but this is where the system goes haywire. There are two different psalm readings and three different gospel readings. Decisions, decisions…

It didn’t take long to see the differences between the readings. One psalm and one gospel reading deal specifically with the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, what we traditionally think of on Palm Sunday. The other readings, well, one is the final time Christ dines with his disciples, his last meal. The other is the Passion narrative, the death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. These are often chosen for worship on this day in the liturgical calendar, but in my opinion they are more appropriate for Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. So today, I have made a choice based on that opinion; I selected the Palm centered scripture over the others.

It is my call, my vocation as Minister of the Word and Sacrament to serve the Word of God. I begin serving this vocation in just this way, selecting the reading and interpreting the Word for this part of the Body of Christ. I don’t do this because it makes me feel important, or to flex my theological and ecclesial muscle. Rather, I do it because this is how I first and foremost serve this part of the Body of Christ.

I mention this because our readings this morning show us what vocation means within scripture. To start, Paul’s letter to the Philippians teaches us about Christ’s vocation to the church. It teaches about humility and its most Godly reward.

Paul reminds us first that Jesus the Christ is equal to God, and that Jesus did not regard his equality as something to be exploited. Without discarding them, Jesus emptied himself of his rightful fully divine trappings to be the fully human Jesus of Nazareth for the world.

This humility did not remove Jesus from his relationship with his Father, nor did it prevent him from exercising his Lordly authority, when cleansing the temple for example. Rather, what Jesus emptied himself of was any wanting to exploit his godliness for his own glory. People often ask why Jesus doesn’t just come down now and make right all that is wrong with the world. Why doesn’t he just come with his power and take care of business? Perhaps it is so that he may exalt the entire Godhead, the whole Trinity, not just himself.

To show how far he is willing to go to empty himself, he was obedient to his father, even to the point of his own death on the cross.

Paul continues; because Jesus emptied himself, because Jesus became a slave to God and to all God created, because Jesus humbled himself to the point that he poured out his life like a drink offering emptied from its vessel; because of this, God also highly exalts him and gave him the name that is above every name. For this, every knee will bend, in heaven and on earth, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Because we know this is true, because we enjoy the benefits of life in Christ, we are called to respond to the grace of God by sharing this good news with the world. This week I have been reminded of the quote from St. Francis who said that we are to share the gospel, using words when necessary. Our gospel reading gives glorious examples of how to share the good news of Christ without words.

We begin with Jesus and the disciples arriving near Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives. Here he sends two disciples saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’”

This is our first and most deceptively difficult lesson: Pay attention. When the Lord speaks, pay attention. Obedience to the commands of the Lord is vital to discipleship.

Christian author Oswald Chambers wrote: “When God gives a vision by his Spirit through his Word of what he wants, and your mind and soul thrill to it, if you do not walk in the light of that vision, you will sink into servitude to a point of view which our Lord never had.”[1]

Often the Lord gives us the most simple of tasks that opens the door of faith into a world that thirsts for it. Jesus says, “Untie the colt and bring it here.” He even tells them what to do when someone finds objection to what they’re doing. Obedience to the vision of the Holy Spirit thrills our soul, but as Chambers points out, when we do not follow that vision, the consequences are dire. Did not obeying cross their minds because they worried about how the owner of the colt would take their intrusion? Maybe, maybe not, scripture is silent, but Chambers continues on this matter:

“Disobedience in mind to the heavenly vision will make you a slave to points of view that are alien to Jesus Christ. Do not look at someone else and say: Well, if he can have these views and prosper, why can't I? You have to walk in the light of the vision that has been given you and not compare yourself with others or judge them; that is between them and God.” [2]

This is the first element of our vocation as Christians, being obedient to Christ. The second element, again being made clear in our gospel reading, is that we are to worship Christ for who he is and what he has done. Our reading continues at verse 37:

“As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying,

‘Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven,
and glory in the highest heaven!’”

This sort of praise and worship may be more robust than we are familiar. Still, whenever we celebrate the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, as we do today, we say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.” Without words we do this whenever we celebrate the Lord’s Supper by taking from the loaf, dipping into the cup, tasting and seeing that the Lord is good.

In this too, we show our obedience in praise and worship. By this mystery, we are nourished. This sacrament is one of the visible signs of God’s invisible grace, the grace of God which through faith, we are saved.

Yet there is another issue with obedience is not so much a matter of disobedience than a matter of loss of control. There is fervor which the people demonstrate upon Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem that is not present in much of our worship. The Trappist Monk Thomas Merton speaks eloquently on this loss of control:

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.”

Often we do not understand what the call to a specific obedience means, and we don’t understand the shape of our worship. This loss of control is frightening. Because of this loss of control, we are called to obedience and worship with the hope that our obedience and worship pleases the Lord God.

Christ has forsaken all control, emptying himself of all Godly trappings while walking the earth. He humbled himself and accepted the humiliation of death, even death upon the cross. In Palm Sunday and Luke’s version of the triumphant entry, we learn how we are called to obedience to the Lord through praise and worship, even when we don’t use words, even when we don’t quite understand what the shape of our worship means.

There is a way to sum up what our worship means in a way that will seem very unfamiliar to us. These words from the eighth century give us an eye to worship and our vocation as Christians that is far bolder than anything I have ever thought to write. In the words of Andrew of Crete: “It is ourselves that we must spread under Christ’s feet, not our coats or lifeless branches or shoots of trees, matter which wastes away and delights the eye only for a few brief hours. But we have clothed ourselves with Christ’s grace, with the whole Christ—‘for as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ’—so let us spread ourselves like coats under his feet.”[3]

We are called to make choices, choices as easy as picking scripture or as hard as standing up for those who cannot stand for themselves. We are called in our vocation to be the road on which Christ travels to do his work, whether we use words or not. We are called to do this for one simple reason, the same reason given to the disciples who were sent after the colt, “The Lord needs it.”

[1] Chambers, Oswald, HomileticsOnline.com, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/illustration_search.asp?item_topic_id=869, retrieved March 27, 2010.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Andrew of Crete, “From the Fathers to the Churches” Brother Kenneth, Editor. London: William Collins Sons and Company, 1983

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.

Conspicuously Meek

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the Sixth Sunday of Lent--Palm Sunday.

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2:5-11
Matthew 21:1-11

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

What a wild scene we read here. Many of us know this as the “Triumphant Entry.” My bible also calls this the “Spectacular Entry.” It is triumphant; Jesus enters the city of Jerusalem to people laying their cloaks and palms before him crying “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven! This is the prophet Jesus!”

Hosanna—what a wonderfully glorious call, a sort of a “holy hurrah.” But let us not forget what Hosanna truly means: “Lord, we beseech you. Lord we beg of you.”[1]

It is spectacular in the way the crowd is assembled, people who know and people who are curious surround the Messiah. They come from all around to be a part of the scene. People are climbing the trees and cutting down palm branches. Others are taking off their cloaks and spreading them on the road. The city was in turmoil, the simple entry of this one man stirred the pot of Jerusalem. Everything was being shaken up by Jesus’ entry into the city of David.

The history of the Jews is steeped with parades of Kings. In Ancient Israel before the reign of King David, the Philistines had captured the presence of God, the Ark of the Covenant. After the Ark was retaken by the Israelites, dancing, David led its return to Jerusalem with a procession. A parade of 30,000 men accompanied the Ark on its return to Jerusalem.

After a false start, the parade started and once it did, it stopped after six steps so that David could make an offering of an ox and fatted calf. David led the procession of men and Ark wearing a linen ephod dancing with all his might.[2]

In its way, this entry into Jerusalem wasn’t so different from this procession. It wasn’t just spectacular, it was a spectacle; people hanging from the trees, people throwing their clothes everywhere. With two differences, it reminds me of the Kansas City St. Patrick’s Day Parade[3]. The first, and this is just my suspicion, there wasn’t as much beer in Jerusalem as there was on the parade route in KC; and the second, this parade had only one float, a humble man meekly riding a colt.

And that’s the difference here. In the midst of this chaos, in the middle of this spectacle, in the words of the gospel, Jerusalem is shaken by the entry of Jesus coming to fulfill the word of the prophet Zechariah;[4] “he comes humbly mounted on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

Jesus does not come dancing in a tiny little tunic like David with the Ark. Jesus doesn’t lead a procession of 30,000 men. Jesus doesn’t bring the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem; he is the New Covenant coming to Jerusalem.

The people of Jerusalem had long expected the coming of the Messiah, the Christ, the anointed. They expected the coming of the one who would save Israel from its oppression. Egyptian, Babylonian, and now Roman, the people anxiously waited for the one who would save them from their enemies.

They waited for the new David, the one who would ride triumphantly, a warrior king who would come on a great war steed to save the people from their oppressors. They were waiting for someone like Moses who took them from Egypt to the Promised Land. They were waiting for a political leader to restore the nation to its proper place in the land.

But this is not the Messiah who comes to town.

Our reading is different, instead of the box that was the place of the presence of God; Jesus, the true presence of God, comes to Jerusalem. Fully human and fully divine, God comes to town in the person of Jesus Christ. In David’s time, God is returning to Jerusalem as the glorious center of the pageant. In our reading from Matthew, Jesus, the Son of God, the Son of Man, God in flesh on earth, comes to Jerusalem humbly in the middle of a celebration.

Paul tells us about Jesus, and how he walked the earth. Paul tells us that though Jesus was in the form of God he did not regard his equality with God as something to be exploited. He did not take the power at his disposal and use it to subdue the earth and all that inhabits it. Jesus emptied himself, taking the form not of a king but of a slave. He humbled himself to the point of death, even death in the most degrading and humiliating way imaginable, death on a cross.

Yes, Jesus could have come to town in all of his glory and all of his power. On this the last Sunday of Lent he could have exercised all of the power Satan tempted him with in Matthew 4:1-11, our Gospel reading from the First Sunday in Lent. He could have come to town like David, dancing for joy in a linen ephod. He could have ruled forever from the temple in Jerusalem and the people would have rejoiced. His kingdom is not of this world.
This is not how he was called to come into his glory.

Jesus knows his glory is not to be found in the courts of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. He is not one with the scribes and the lawyers. Neither is his place with the Zealots who would conquer Roman rule in war and violence. His kingship is in neither of these places, neither prestige nor force. His place is found in the beatitude, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”

So Jesus comes not in the way the people want or expect. He comes in the way of the prophet, meek and humble, not on a war horse but on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

The bit of this that is upside-down is that the people are hailing the coming of the one who has healed and fed and brought new life to the people of the land in a parade that would have rivaled David’s. Yet, here comes Jesus, not dancing like David, not riding high as a foreign ruler, he comes humbly. He is the one who created the earth coming as one who will inherit it.

He rides humbly into Jerusalem while all around him has all of the revelry of a Kansas City St. Pat’s Day Parade. His meekness is conspicuous in the midst of the carousing that surrounds him.

The Lord our God is doing the same thing the Lord our God has always done. God is in relationship with the people and the creation. But now, God is doing this in a new way, a way the people did not expect. God comes to earth and lives among the creation. Oh, that was expected, how he comes is the new work.

He comes with full power and authority, but he comes emptying himself of these things. He comes as a king, but not as a king of an earthly kingdom. He comes not in glory and ostentation, but humbly and meekly.

In a world that is wrapped in the turmoil of life, we are called to celebrate the coming of the Lord who comes in his way, not the way we impose. We are called not to proclaim the coming of the warrior king; we are called to shout “Hosanna, loud hosanna.” But we are to shout it as the cry of “Lord, we beseech you. Lord, we beg of you.” and not as some sort of “holy hurrah.”

We point to Jesus who comes humbly on the back of a colt, the foal of a donkey. And Jesus points back at us, beckoning us to join him not in the conspicuousness of the festivities, but in the meekness of the beatitudes. Let us join him as the meek who will inherit the earth.

[1] New Interpreters Bible, vol VIII, Keck, Leander, Editor. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, page 403.
[2] 2Samuel 6
[3] At one time in the 80’s it was said that the Kansas City St. Patrick’s Day Parade was the second largest in the nation. I don’t know whether it was behind the New York or Chicago parade, but to beat either of these cities to be the #2 parade was an accomplishment.
[4] Zechariah 9::9

All the Best Cowboys...

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 19:28-40

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 a congregation, we have been together for nearly two years. In that time I am sure you have noticed that I tend to look at life a little differently. When I was a kid, I used to thumb through the encyclopedia. When I had my first apartment I didn’t keep magazines in the bathroom, I kept an almanac. I never had the time to read an entire article in the bathroom, so I would just scope out some facts. Today I still cruise an online encyclopedia to find new little mental diversions.

This has never been particularly useful, but it does add spice to conversation. Once, my older sister and I were heading to Downtown Kansas City from her house north of the river. We were crossing the Armor-Swift-and-Burlington bridge, the ASB as it’s known in KC, and she pointed over to an old rail bridge and asked me, “Do you believe they are putting a piece of that in the Smithsonian?” “Sure,” I replied, “After all it is the oldest swing type rail drawbridge in America.” This is my sister, she’s known me all my life, she knows me well, and she was dumbstruck. “How in the world do you know that?” I was a little embarrassed to tell her, “Well, it’s in the almanac.”[1]

So you won’t be too amazed that when reading today’s gospel, I was reminded of the name of a 1982 record album by Pete Townshend, the lead guitar player for a British Invasion rock band called “The Who.”

Reading the gospel, I just get this image of Jesus riding into town on a colt that hadn’t been broken. If you have ever tried to ride or even seen someone try to ride an unbroken colt, you would know that nothing will throw you faster, especially bareback. Throw in the spectacle of people shouting and throwing their cloaks in their path and the degree of difficulty and danger increases drastically. Yet scripture tells us Jesus is placed on the colt and it’s calm, cool, and collected. Together they ride into town.

Anyway, I remember hearing an interview with Pete Townshend on the radio in the early 1980’s.[2] When asked about the title of his new album, he says in his British accent, “When you watch these old Western pictures, you see John Wayne (now imagine if you will a man with a British accent going into a John Wayne imitation), and he’s riding out on the range, and he looks like a bloke, just like any other man. Well, it figured that if you spent all this time out on the range looking off into the sunset like the Western heroes do, you’d spend a lot of time squinting, so I always thought (and here’s the name of the album) ‘All the Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes’.”

So here’s Jesus, riding into town, on the back of a colt that had never been ridden. He’s working it like all the best cowboys. He has spent a lot of time on the roads between villages, spending time in the fields and plains with the people, and he doesn’t have a big Stetson hat, or Oakley sunglasses, so, for some unknown reason, I sort of wonder if Jesus has “Chinese Eyes,” you know, just like all the best cowboys. Or is it just me?

The striking thing about this text is that it is so simple yet so lush. There is so very little written here, but it is so full of detail and imagery. Listen to the word of the Lord…verse 31 reads, “If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying this colt?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it’.” This is so simple. The Lord needs it. Is there any more subtle piece of scripture?

With a simplicity and richness Jesus brings to the event, he rides into town on the back of a colt. The people are expecting a king. They want a king. They cry, “Blessed is the king!” Putting cloaks in his path is one way kings are greeted,[3] but Jesus does not enter like the political or military king the people wanted to end Roman oppression. He does not enter Jerusalem on the back of a war horse leading an army and bringing the conquered and vanquished enemy to his capital. He does not come in a chariot like the Egyptian Pharaohs, Assyrian Kings, and Roman Caesars of Israel’s past and present. He comes on a colt. The colt is nimble. The colt is sturdy. These qualities make the colt the preferred mount of the Jewish kings since it could move through the hill country far better than a war horse or a chariot could.[4]

So this simple gesture reveals Jesus comes humbly. He is a Jew come to his people during their most important celebration, not a conquering hero. He comes as one who serves, not one who is served. He comes with humility, but he also comes with knowledge. He comes knowing his place in the past, the present, and the future.

Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” The Pharisees knew if the crowd did not, there would be consequences. The Romans want order in the territories, and this would not do. Jesus knew better. He knew “if the people were silent, the stones would shout out.” Nothing was going to stop Jesus. Nothing was going to stop his triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Nothing was going to stop the Word of the Lord, his Word, from being shouted out to a world desperately needing to hear it.

The Swiss theologian Karl Barth once said, “The Word became flesh—and then through theologians it became words again.”[5] It’s all right to laugh. This may not be very funny, but it’s pretty funny. After more than three years of seminary, nearly two years of sermons, and countless reports to various Presbytery groups and agencies, I can say with no reservation that I am able to make the Word become flesh become word again. After looking at the Book of Confessions and reading such truly wonderful statements as, “I ought properly to acknowledge the only true God, trust in him alone, in humility and patience expect all good from him only, and love, fear and honor him with my whole heart.”[6] And as wonderful and glorious as this is, next to “The Lord needs it,” and “the stones would shout out,” it just seems so very wordy.

Jesus comes simply. He comes knowing who he is and what he has come to do. He comes with integrity, something sorely lacking in our world today. There has been a lot of talk about the circumstances surrounding former pro football player and Army Ranger Pat Tillman’s death in Afghanistan; and how the government has chosen to handle what happened to him on that fateful day. Former Arizona State University head football coach Bruce Snyder was Tillman’s coach from 1994 to 1997. Coach Snyder summed up the government's handling of Tillman’s death perfectly. In a recent interview, he said that things like war and religion are complicated, but accountability is not. He was very upset with the way the military and the government have handled things and thought Tillman would be too.[7]

Integrity forces us to tell the truth. Integrity allows us to say war is hell and horrible things happen in war and in war time. Integrity makes us face the fact that this is especially true in wars that need to be fought. Integrity does not let us cover up the harsh parts of reality with a glossy sheen that looks pretty but hides flaws. With this same integrity, we are called to know who we are and find our place in the world. We are called to tell the truth. We are called to tell the truth in business. We are called to tell the truth at home. And we are called to tell the truth to the world.

Jesus comes on a colt as the Lord and Messiah. He is more than a victorious military leader. He is more than a skilled politician. He is the anointed one who comes in power, and in authority, and in humility. He comes to lead us and all of creation into Jerusalem. But humanity can be just as unruly as a colt that has never been ridden. But the Lord does not lead by force or coercion. He calls us with a whisper we hear at a level we don’t understand from a place we cannot deny. The colt can give us insight to these whispers. This description comes from the movie The Horse Whisperer:[8]

“A million years before man, [horses] grazed the vast and empty plains, living by voices only they could hear. They first came to know man as the hunted knows the hunter, for long before he used horses for his labors, he killed them for meat. The alliance with man would forever be fragile, for the fear he’d struck into their hearts…was too deep to be dislodged. Since that Neolithic moment, when a horse was first haltered, there were those among men who understood this. They could see into the creature’s soul…and soothe the wounds they found there. The secrets uttered softly into troubled ears. These men were known as the whisperers.”

Jesus will not be deterred. What he does he does for one of us and for all of us. His disciples cry out “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” Yet, even if they were not able to cry out, the stones would cry out in their stead. Today we celebrate the triumphant entry of the King of the Jews into Jerusalem. Today we celebrate His triumphant entry into a kingship the people did not understand. We are called to cry "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven.” We are called to do this because the Lord sees into our souls and soothes the wounds he finds. We are called to do this because the Lord needs it.

[1] The World Almanac and Book of Facts, I believe I am referring to the 1987 edition.
[2] I believe this was from Redbeard’s radio show probably from 1982.
[3] http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=3237, accessed March 26, 2007, and see 2 Kings 9:6-16, the inauguration of Jehu
[4] Ibid.
[5] http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=93000055, accessed March 26, 2006.
[6] Office of the General Assembly, The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Part I, The Book of Confessions. The Heidelberg Catechism, Question 94. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 1996, page 30.
[7] http://www.jimrome.com/home/jungle/interview.html, Bruce Snyder Interview, accessed March 28, 2007.
[8] Touchstone Pictures presents, The Horse Whisperer. Written by Eric Roth based on the novel by Nick Evans. 1998.