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Palm Sunday – 2024b

Old Testament – Isaiah 50:4-9a

New Testament – Matthew 21:1-11

 

“The Only Good Idea”

 

INTRODUCTION: So we all have favorite bits of Scripture, right? 

 

Even if we can’t quote them verbatim, we can probably muddle our way through a halfway decent rendition of treasured selections. Or, perhaps even more importantly, we’ve at least logged in our brains where such passages from Scripture can be found in order to look them up when needed. It’s easy for me to remember, for example, that Paul’s famous treatise on love, which tends to get read at weddings, can be found in Chapter 13 of First Corinthians.   

 

I asked my office mates this week to give me one of their favorite passages. Martha Bradley says Paul’s remarks from Romans chapter 8 are some of hers. It’s those words about how nothing can finally separate us from the love God. Or as Paul puts it at the end of that beloved passage: 

 

“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

 

And Bethany? Well, hers is that familiar passage from Micah chapter 6:

 

“[God] has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

 

Well, both of those passages are good ones, right? Why, some of you, if you had been asked, might have even offered them as one of your own favorites.

 

ONE: For me, though, there is no better passage in all of Scripture than Paul’s remarks from Chapter 2 of Philippians:

 

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.

 

As far as I am concerned, the passage is a distillation of one of the core ideas from the New Testament, and even the Bible as a whole. And that idea, as near as I can tell, is that humility, in the same way it resided at the heart of Jesus’ life, should also be at the center of our lives. 

 

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” says Paul. And then he points a bony finger at the cross to indicate just what he means. 

 

“[T]hough Jesus was in the form of God,” says Paul, “he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself…” The Greek word that Paul uses for “emptied” means to pour something out - like, say, a pitcher of water. And so Jesus, according to Paul, actually poured himself out, he emptied himself, on that cross.      

          

There is a story that a man once came to the Buddha with an offering of flowers grasped in each of his hands. Looking at the man, the Buddha said, “Drop it!”

 

Well, the man couldn’t believe he was being asked to drop the flowers. But after a moment of reflection, he decided he was being asked to drop the flowers in his left hand, since offering something with one’s left hand was considered impolite and inauspicious. And so the man dropped the flowers in his left hand.

 

But still the Buddha said to him, “Drop it!” Well, this time the man dropped the flowers in his right hand and now stood empty handed before the Buddha. And still, the same reply, “Drop it!” 

 

“What is it I am supposed to drop?” asked the exasperated man. “Not the flowers,” said the Buddha, “but the one who brought them.” Perhaps not surprisingly, one of the central goals of Buddhism is to lose the self, it’s to drop one's ego, so to speak, which in turn allows someone to be compassionate and caring.  After all, has anyone ever met an egomaniac that is also loving and merciful? I  sure haven’t!         

 

Well, something similar happened on that cross, according to Paul. Jesus poured himself out, he dropped himself, for us and for the world. He could have claimed equality with God, but instead gave all that up in suffering love.  

 

TWO: Of course, Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem all those years ago was kind of a living parable of that same idea, I think. 

 

Usually, when kings and other high ranking dignitaries came into Jerusalem, it was a high-end-affair with plenty of pomp-and-circumstance. There were banners blowing in the breeze, large horses clad in armor striding regally, and trumpets blaring as drums also thumped a marching cadence.

 

The spoils of defeated enemies were often proudly displayed allowing people the chance to gawk and stare at the hardwon booty. And those defeated enemies? Well, those still alive were often bound by their hands and pulled through the streets to be jeered and mocked by folks lining the road. Why, a few bits of spoiled food might have even been tossed at the defeated stragglers just for good measure.

       

And yet, that’s not how Jesus ends up rolling into  Jerusalem, is it? Instead, he shows up on a diminutive beast of burden with his toes, if not scraping along the stone road, hanging just inches above it. Instead of having bound enemies in tow, he is followed by a trail of ragtag disciples and other social misfits. And the spoils of battle for display? Well, they were nothing more than the meager staples people might have had tucked in their satchels. And instead of banners and trumpets, there are palm fronds.

 

If Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan are correct, Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem was actually meant to be a parody. You see, about the same time Jesus would have been entering Jerusalem from the east, Borg and Crossan claim Pontius Pilate would have also been entering from the west with the usual fanfare and standard flash.

 

Jesus, it turns out, was actually being satirical. Because while a large imperial procession with the usual displays of power, might, and glory was entering on one side of town, Jesus was on the other side humbly entering perched on a donkey.                                

 

Turns out Jesus probably had a pretty scathing sense of humor!  

 

THREE: Many years ago the late Kurt Vonnegut was invited to give the Palm Sunday sermon at Saint Clement’s Episcopal Church in New York City. 

 

Apparently it was the church’s custom to fill the pulpit once a year with an unexpected and surprising voice. And so in 1980, that surprising voice ended up being Vonnegut’s, who actually liked to refer to himself as “a Christ-worshipping agnostic.” Turns out Vonnegut, while not really a church-goer, spent a lot of time thinking about Jesus and the meaning of his life.  

 

Vonnegut, not accustomed to preaching, asked an Episcopal priest and friend what he should say in a Palm Sunday sermon. The priest, a woman named Carol Anderson, reportedly told Vonnegut he should tell the congregation Palm Sunday is “a brilliant satire on pomp and circumstance and high honors in this world.”

 

Meaning, in a world that seems to be in love with power and might and those who can wield it, Jesus, oddly enough, chose to be interested in just the opposite. Jesus’ grand entrance into Jerusalem with its expected pomp and circumstance gets turned on its head because rather than come in glory and power, he decides to come lowly and humbly riding on a donkey.  

 

Perhaps taking his cue from Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem, Vonnegut also spent a portion of his Palm Sunday sermon talking about the Sermon on the Mount. After all, it’s there, in the Sermon on the Mount, that Jesus’ call for lives of humility and mercy is so clearly laid out. 

 

Or as Vonnegut put it in his sermon: “I am enchanted by the Sermon on the Mount. Being merciful, it seems to me, is the only good idea we have received so far. Perhaps we will get another good idea by and by—and then we will have two good ideas.”                 

 

You see, Jesus' response to the needs of the world was always the same. Whether through his preaching and teaching (like in the Sermon on the Mount), or while riding into Jerusalem amidst fanfare and great show, humility, grace, and mercy simply poured out of him. 

 

Even when nailed to that cross just days after his entrance into Jerusalem, all Jesus knew how to do was show mercy and grace. Maybe that’s why at yet another point Vonnegut could also say: “If it weren’t for the message of mercy and pity in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, I wouldn’t want to be a human being. I would just as soon be a rattlesnake.” 

 

And still at one more point he could also say: “I admire Christianity more than anything — Christianity as symbolized by gentle people sharing a common bowl.”

 

CONCLUSION: And so now here we sit. A little short of 2,000 years ago, Jesus strode into Jerusalem perched atop a donkey. 

 

And by being perched atop that donkey, of course, he  was doing way more than simply hitching a ride into Jerusalem. For Jesus, by riding that donkey, was also enacting a living parable based on what he had taught and lived up until that moment, which just might be the only good idea we’ve received so far. That idea that life is best when lived humbly and mercifully.

 

Perhaps, some day, we’ll indeed be given a second good idea. But until then, I suppose all we can really do is busy ourselves with the lone good one we have right now.  

 

And now worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing! Amen.

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