“They Still Didn’t Get It”

Mark 11:1-11

Mark 11:9a-10: Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming Kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!

Philippians 2:5-8: Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.

[Prayer]

Early this past week we had one of those marvelous spring days: bright, pleasant, cheerful. Late in the afternoon clouds began to appear on the horizon. Winds picked up. Temperatures fell. Soon the world was one of stormy darkness. There were threats of severe thunderstorms, hail, and even tornadoes. Our quiet beautiful day turned into a time of treacherous darkness before our very eyes. What had begun so beautifully ended so harshly.

In some ways that day paralleled Palm Sunday and Holy Week. Holy Week began so joyfully that first Palm Sunday. Unfortunately it had to end. Even as Jesus rode toward Jerusalem, the storm clouds were gathering. A week that began in sunshine would end in darkness and despair.

On that long ago Sunday Jesus rode toward Jerusalem to the sound of loud hosannas. Those hosannas were more than just shouts of praise. The original meaning of hosanna was, “Please save us.” The crowd was pleading with Jesus to be the Messiah who would deliver them from Roman oppression and restore Israel to greatness. Many in the crowd, including Jesus’ own disciples and followers, were hoping that Jesus was the one who would make all their dreams of political freedom and national pride come true. After three years with him they still didn’t get it. And sometimes, almost 2000 years later neither do we.

The manner in which Jesus rode toward Jerusalem fanned the flames. Many were familiar with the prophecies of Zechariah, especially the ninth verse of the ninth chapter of the prophet’s book: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The king was coming to save his people, just as Zechariah had foretold it.

Jesus was making a statement that day. The fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy was no coincidence. Jesus wanted the people to know exactly who he was, exactly what he was. In front of friends and enemies alike, he was openly taking upon himself the role of Messiah. There would be no quiet, unobtrusive entrance into Jerusalem, no sneaking into town under the cover of darkness. Jesus arrived in broad daylight, during Passover, the very time when messianic hopes were the highest.

But the way in which he arrived was in itself a statement about who and what he was. He did come as a victorious King, but he also came in humility – just like Zechariah had predicted. By riding in on a donkey instead of a horse Jesus proclaimed himself a King of Peace. Kings rode horses to war. They rode donkeys as a sign that they came in peace.

Folks that day had a firm grasp on the victorious king part of Zechariah’s prophecy. After centuries of national oppression and humiliation they were more than ready for the Messiah, as they envisioned him, to arrive. They were ready and waiting for the Messiah they saw predicted in the earlier chapters of Isaiah: King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and whatnot. They weren’t paying much attention to the prophecies in Isaiah’s later chapters. They just ignored all that Suffering Servant stuff.

And sometimes so do we. We love Palm Sunday with all its hosannas, celebrations, and victory marches. We love Easter with its witness to the resurrection and declaration that God had defeated sin, death, and evil. We love hearing about triumphant Messiahs and risen Lords. One of the great hopes of Christ’s Church is the triumphal coming again of our Lord.

But let’s not forget that between the palms of today and the lilies of next Sunday comes Passion Week. For Jesus that was a stormy week, one filled with conflict and danger. By Good Friday some of the same folks who had shouted out hosannas were screaming, “Crucify him!” One of his disciples betrayed him. The rest denied him and ran away. All but a very few of his followers faded into the background of anonymity. Before resurrection there was crucifixion. Before the crown there was a cross. Jesus would indeed live out the Suffering Servant prophecies.

Which is exactly what he had come to do. He was and is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He was also the Word made flesh, the incarnation of God in human form. As Paul quoted one of the earliest hymns of the church in his letter to the Philippians, “… though he was in the form of God, [he] did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.”

He emptied himself. He humbled himself. He took upon himself a lowly estate. He came to Jerusalem as a King of Peace. He died a lonely, agonizing, humiliating death on a cross. There would be resurrection. There will be a coming again in glory. We celebrate that, as we should. But we must never forget that the Messiah who was accompanied to Jerusalem with shouts of hosanna was a Suffering Servant not a Warrior King.

The sanctuary paraments and my stole are red today. They remind us of Jesus’ sacrifice. They remind us of a rough, bloody cross and crown of thorns. They remind us of thirty-nine flesh-rending lashes. They remind us of how quickly expectant hosannas can turn into bitter, angry demands for crucifixion. Red is the color of blood. Blood is the price of true servanthood. Blood is symbolic of just what kind of Messiah Jesus really was.

It is also symbolic of what kind of disciples he calls us to be. Following Jesus involves picking up crosses. Following Jesus involves humility, servanthood, and sacrifice. Following Jesus involves a willingness to lose in order to win, die in order to live, and be last in order to be first. Following Jesus involves a poverty of spirit, a recognition that our “hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.” Following Jesus involves peacemaking in its deepest Biblical sense, working to bring God’s shalom – his intended blessings of health, wholeness, justice, and righteousness - into the world. Following Jesus involves proclaiming and promoting the Gospel. It also involves living out that Gospel, all of it, not just the parts we like.

And let’s face it; sinfully proud humans that we are, we aren’t overly fond of humility and servanthood, of going those extra miles, turning the other cheek, and forgiving seventy-times seven. Give us Palm Sunday. Give us Easter. Give us the Second Coming. But please give that Good Friday stuff to those other folks, especially the ones we don’t like.

Eugene Peterson tells a wonderful story from his boyhood about doing the right thing the wrong way. There was this guy who constantly bullied and belittled him. Being from a strict Christian home, he faithfully practiced turning the other cheek. But there came that day when enough was enough. Rather than turning the other cheek, he attacked his bully, knocked him down, sat on his chest, and pounded him with his fists. And as he did so this is what he yelled, “Receive Jesus Christ as your only Lord and Savior!” Young Eugene was, to say the least, a bit loose with his theology and Biblical interpretation.

But then, aren’t we all from time to time? We get all excited about Palm Sunday, Easter, and Second Coming theology and disregard that Good Friday, Suffering Servant theology. We get all hot and bothered by the notion of a Warrior King Messiah coming to conquer the world for Christ, or at least that’s what we say. Often what we really want is for him to do it for our benefit. While we say that we want to see the foes of Christ defeated, what often goes unsaid is that we want to see our enemies punished.

Somewhere in all that overly muscular Church Triumphant theology we lose sight of the Word made flesh, the Suffering Servant, the crucified Christ. We forget that on the first Palm Sunday it was a King of Peace not vengeance who rode humbly into Jerusalem on a donkey. We forget that Jesus defeated sin, death, and evil by way of death not some military or political conquest. We forget that when we cry out, “Hosanna,” we are asking our Lord to save us from our sins not from our enemies.

Blessed is he who emptied himself as part of coming in the name of the Lord. Amen.