4.17.11--Palm Sunday Sermon

(Just a little bit of context, I removed the pulpit, altar, and every cross, painting, and banner from the sanctuary. The walls are bare. The sanctuary only contains pews and people. And I am preaching in a polo, jeans, and barefoot.)

So it looks a little bit different in here today, doesn’t it? The walls are a little barer. The altar is not where we expect it be. We all know there should be a cross on the wall, a picture of Jesus, flowers, banners, towering chairs, flags, and a podium all right here, but they are gone. I’m sure that some of you, maybe even most of you, can close your eyes right now and picture in your mind’s eye exactly how the sanctuary is supposed to look, down to the last cross, the barest detail. Close your eyes. Give it a try. Can you picture it? Can you see the church the way it’s supposed to be? Well, my friends, today we encounter a very important lesson, both in the Palm Sunday text and in the appearance of our sanctuary. God does not always encounter us the way we expect God to. Jesus does not always ride into our lives as the Messiah that we expect Him to. Church does not always fit into our comfortable definitions the way that we expect it to.

Let’s dive into this text together and look at the story of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. We’ve spoken a number of times over the past year of the role of the euangelion, the Gospel bringer, during this time of history. Well, after the forerunners had gone out to spread the good news of victory to the nation, the people would gather in the capital city to welcome home their victorious king. The king would enter into his city, surrounded by his retinue, to the sights and sounds of a massive parade, a crowd gathered to greet their lord and assist in bringing glory to him as he rode triumphantly atop his warhorse from the city gates to the royal palace. Each person had his part to play in this: the crowd members shouted exultantly and laid down palm branches upon the ground as a kind of red-carpet treatment; the retinue mirrored the pride and glory given their king; the king handled himself with the charisma and honor worthy his status.

And this is how Jesus is understood to have entered into the Jerusalem for Passover. Proud. Mighty. Powerful.

But… Is this really how He entered the Holy City? There are most definitely some parallels, but Jesus, as he is famous for doing throughout the Gospels, doesn’t stick to the status quo in His entry. Jesus enters into the city not on a mighty warhorse, but on a donkey, a colt. He must have looked rather silly on this animal while the crowds and His disciples, all of whom were standing, were probably level or even a little bit taller than Him on his donkey. One of the disciples probably had to walk in front of Jesus to lead the donkey that had never been ridden before. The poor colt might have even been startled by the crowd, causing the disciples to have to constantly feed it treats and comfort it to keep it from bucking or dashing off. Jesus probably had to ride sidesaddle on it, like a girl, so that He could jump off and not risk getting kicked by the frightened animal.

Jesus rides not to a palace or stronghold within the city, but to the Temple, a place of worship. He goes to worship God, not make plans for war. He goes to teach, not spark a rebellion to drive the oppressive Romans out of Israel’s rightful land. He goes to heal the afflicted, not afflict pain on others.

And yet still, the crowds lay down their branches and yell, “Hosanna! Save us now!” They fulfill their part of the unspoken agreement between crowd and king.

There is something very different going on. It’s right in front of them. He is right in front of them. And this crowd, as they are waving their palm branches and shouting, doesn’t seem to get it. They were expecting a king to come in on a warhorse with an army behind him. They received a servant on a donkey, with twelve dirty men walking next to him. They expected a violent overthrow of the enemy occupying their home. They received a man who taught to love and pray for the ones who persecute you. They did everything they were supposed to do. They waved the palm branches. They shouted their hosannas. And this is what they received.

Maybe this is why a large number of them, four days later, changed their shouts from “Hosanna” to “Crucify”…

I’ve wondered for a long time what it would look like if Jesus were to come and visit some of the churches I’ve attended. Would the congregations welcome Him into their midst? Would they recognize their Savior if He stood before them? Would they follow Him if He called them out of the church and into the mission field?

Or would they hold too tightly to an understanding of church that only tangentially related to the worship of Jesus the Christ? Have the altar flowers, banners, golden crosses, and beautiful pictures of Jesus become so important to them—to us—that they have become the things we truly worship? Is the church building so important to us that it has replaced the people of Christ as what we know and understand to be the Church? Are clothes and shoes so important that we cannot hear the message God has for us unless it is delivered in suit and tie?

But Christ comes in and breaks the status quo.

Jesus does not enter the city as the messiah we want or expect. Christ does not allow us to be comfortable with a false identity and false understanding of the church, His bride. Christ comes in, riding on a donkey, worshipping in the Temple and teaching the true ways of God. Jesus does not incite a rebellion against the oppressors or raise up an army for war. Christ conquers sin and death through sacrifice and love. And in the same way, Jesus does not call the church to be a building with a sanctuary full of banners and altars and flags and symbols with a man in a starched black suit giving a sermon. Christ calls the church to be the living Body of Christ, the people of God in the world who share His light and life with everyone they can.

So where is it in your life that you need your status quo messed up? What definitions and identities do you need to have shifted? Where do you need to be jarred into a place of uncomfortability? Where is Christ arriving on a donkey, when you expected Him on a warhorse? We all have these places, myself included. I pray that God will reveal them to us all, and that God will help us to shatter these boundaries and break down the boxes that we try to fit Him into. I pray that God will again show us, in every part of our lives, not the Jesus we expect, but the Christ we need.

Amen.