Image Source |
March 20, 2016 - Palm Sunday
Matthew 21:1-17
21 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage,
at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them,
“Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied,
and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says
anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them
immediately.” 4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the
prophet, saying,
5 “Tell the daughter
of Zion,
Look, your king
is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
and
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the
donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. 8 A very large
crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees
and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and
that followed were shouting,
“Hosanna to the
Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the
highest heaven!”
10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil,
asking, “Who is this?”
11 The crowds were saying,
“This is the
prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
12 Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were
selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money
changers and the seats of those who sold doves. 13 He said to them,
“It is written,
‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’;
but you are making it a den of robbers.”
14 The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he
cured them. 15 But when the
chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the
children crying out in the temple,
“Hosanna to the
Son of David,”
they
became angry 16 and said to him,
“Do
you hear what these are saying?”
Jesus
said to them, “Yes; have you never read,
‘Out of the
mouths of infants and nursing babies
you have prepared praise for yourself’?”
17 He left them,
went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.
Sermon: An Overturned Table
We know the story, or at
least we think we do. Here’s how we usually think Jesus’ triumphal entry
happened: he borrowed a donkey (or two, depending on the gospel), rode into
Jerusalem and was greeted by a parade of palm-waving city folk, shouting
“Hosanna!” A week later, those same people in Jerusalem shouted something much
worse: “Crucify him.”
What if I told you that might
not have been what happened? You see, we
only tend to focus on the middle of the story, when in fact the beginning and the end of the passage
tell us what that event was all about.
Let’s start with the
beginning: not the entry into Jerusalem, before that. Jesus borrowed a donkey or two from a
village. Bethany and Bethphage are
mentioned in the gospels. These were places entirely unlike Jerusalem. According to very early writings, they were
likely places for the sick to go, which is why Lazarus was there. Bethany especially was for the outcasts, the
poor, and the caregivers. This was, of
course, to keep them separate from all the healthy, important folk in
Jerusalem, geographically close-by, but socially miles apart.
It matters that Jesus started
that Easter journey with donkeys borrowed from Bethany or Bethphage. It matters that the first to publicly shout,
“Hosanna!,” the first to cry, “Save us!” knew what they needed saving from. They needed to be saved from illness. They needed to be saved from poverty. But
mostly they needed to be saved from invisibility, from being forgotten. And if you think this is the same crowd as
those who shouted, “Crucify him!” a week later, think again. (I had to!)
These were mostly sick, poor, small town folk. The crowd in Jerusalem at Jesus’ sentencing
were certainly not that.
No, these faithful don’t
deserve to be thought of as so changeable and violent. They shouted hosanna. What did the city folk in Jerusalem
shout? Well, the text tells us: they
didn’t say “Save us!” or “Messiah.” They
asked, “Who is this?” Now that suspicious question sounds a lot
more like the crucify crowd to me. The
best they could do was call him a prophet.
So, that’s how the story we
think we know so well most likely began: with a crowd of poor, outcast, sick
folks and their tireless (and exhausted) caregivers. Note how many children there were present,
and how vocal they were, and remember that children in that society were the
lowest of the low status-wise, barely above that borrowed donkey, or the slave
who watered it.
And what happened next? Did Jesus take his triumphal moment and enjoy
a nice big celebration with his friends?
Did he hold a press conference to tout his awesomeness? No. He
went straight into that temple, perhaps
even still riding the donkey! And he
got to work.
Ann Weems captures it as only
she can:
Our church school
teacher tried to dilute the story
but I had a picture of
Jesus with the whip in his hand.
The whip was snapping…I
could almost hear it…
The moneychangers
cowered against the whip’s threat;
Tables were overturned.
Some of the men were up
and running.
The cows and sheep were
scattering.
Doves were scrambling
in their cages.
Coins were rolling and
flying through the air.
The face of Jesus showed
fury!
Cows and sheep and
doves sold for sacrifices,
Roman money changed
into the Tyrian shekels
required for the annual
head tax
that went into the
temple treasury.
In other words, it was
church business.
But Jesus thought
otherwise:
God’s house was being
desecrated.
He drove the
moneychangers out of the temple.
So Jesus started in a place
for the poor and the sick. And then he
went through the privileged crowd of Jerusalem, to the place where the poor and
sick should always come first: the temple.
When he saw that there, too, they were being taken advantage of, he lost
it.
“My house shall
be called a house of prayer;
but you are
making it a den of robbers.” he shouted.
And
in response, those wealthy, religious folk came one step closer to shouting,
“Crucify!”
He who, as a child, unrolled
the scroll to Isaiah and astounded the religious elite in the temple with his
wisdom, found a less enthused audience as he did it again. The fuller passage from Isaiah chapter 56 is
this:
to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord,
and to be his servants,
all who keep the
sabbath, and do not profane it,
and hold fast my covenant—
these I will
bring to my holy mountain,
and make them joyful in my house of prayer;
their burnt
offerings and their sacrifices
will be accepted on my altar;
for my house
shall be called a house of prayer
for all peoples.
Thus says the
Lord God,
who gathers the outcasts of Israel,
I will gather
others to them
besides those already gathered.
The
Lord, who gathers the outcasts into a house of prayer for all peoples. Isn’t that why Jesus started in Bethany or
Bethphage, the colony of outcasts?
Wasn’t he just trying to put flesh onto the bones of his Isaiah
sermons?
And,
ultimately, wasn’t that why he was such a threat to those in power, those who
had the influence to stir a crowd into a frenzy until they became violent?
Jesus
shows us in this story – as it really happened -- something very significant
about what it means to follow him. Let’s
put it into a handy 3-point plan, shall we? (Trinitarian to boot!)
1.
Go to Bethany or
Bethphage, where the outcasts are, the people who the rest of society
prefers to keep at arm’s length: the homeless, the sick (mentally and
physically), the grieving, the foreigner, the children. Our Bethany might be a street corner. It might be a hospital waiting room, or the
Moore Free Clinic. It might be a
kindergarten classroom with low-income kids struggling to learn a second
language, when they barely know the first. Go and find Jesus there. He’s never left. He’s never forgotten them.
2.
Once you have gone there, go through the places of power: the main roads, the places valued
by society. Be prepared for people to respond
with, “Who are you?” Don’t adopt the
ways of that place and those people, but go with humility, riding on a
proverbial donkey as Jesus did. Don’t be
afraid to make a scene and stand out.
(Just remember it’s about Jesus, not you.)
3.
Finally, go to the
church,
that place where people of our same faith gather. That place is certainly here on Wednesday
nights with choir and chimes, and Sunday mornings. It’s also in yoga on Mondays, a coffee shop
on Thursdays and Sunday afternoons, in living rooms on random Tuesdays and even
on the golf course on Saturdays. Go to
where other Christians gather, and pay attention to what’s happening
there. Who’s being worshipped? Who’s not?
Who’s being served? Who’s not?
Are there idols? Building? Money?
The preacher, even? Turn over
those tables (well, be gentle with your preacher, please). Make God’s house a house of prayer for all
peoples.
4.
(Okay, so there’s a fourth step!) Now, go
home. Notice how things seem
different. Notice who would be
comfortable there: is it more like Bethany – a place for the sick and
overlooked –
or Jerusalem – a place for the wealthy
and powerful? (Note that Jesus chose to leave Jerusalem at the end of our
story, and spend the night back in humble Bethany.) Notice whether that home
mirrors the faith you profess: do you have more than you need, tables of greed
that should be overturned? Do people
speak with love and compassion there, or shout in anger? Does that place even have its own Bethany
within it, where you keep someone you live with at arm’s length? Do you see Jesus there? He is there, too, you know.
I’ll
leave you with a few more words, what turns into a prayer for us on this Palm
Sunday, from Ann Weems, about the fateful day Jesus borrowed a donkey from
deserted people and marched it right into the place of power.
“O Jesus, you showed us
God
when you showed
yourself,
but we didn’t see, we
didn’t see.
The word of God walked
across our lives,
but we didn’t hear, we
didn’t hear.
We didn’t allow your
footsteps
to crunch into our
souls.
We stuck to business as
usual,
even church business,
even on Sunday.
And our tables are up
for overturning.
Give us a sign.
Give us a sign.
And we who have the
rainbow
and all the stars in
the sky ask God for further ID.
As though there were no
ten commandments,
as though we were never
told
that God will not stand
for idolatry.
As though we never
heard of being the people of God.
As though we never
heard of living in covenant.
There will be no other
gods before me.
No other gods.
As though Jesus never
said
“You should love the
Lord your God
with all your heart,
and soul and mind,
and you should love
your neighbor as yourself
as yourself
as yourself.”
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment