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.

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.