TALKING STONES
Scripture: Luke 19:28-44
FOCUS: Jesus came to initiate a new kind of kingdom and to fulfill God’s mission of grace and salvation, a mission which cannot be stopped.
It is built on the same fuselage as the Boeing 747, but that is about all it has in common with the familiar commercial aircraft. It has a souped up set of jet engines specially designed to facilitate lightening fast take offs and cruising the massive craft at 630 miles per hour, nearly the speed of sound. It has a range of 6,800 miles without refueling and is capable of in flight refueling if necessary. On board are 80 phone lines, 238 miles of communication cable, internet access and multiple satellite links. There is a medical room complete with X-ray equipment, a fully stocked pharmacy, an operating table and staffed with a full time surgeon at all times. There are multiple conference rooms elaborately furnished with leather chairs and numerous work stations. On board are two galleys staffed by five chefs capable of serving up to 100 gourmet meals at a single sitting. The master suite is fully furnished, expertly designed with comfort and workability in mind.
Every time it is in the air and carrying the passenger for which it was designed the plane is accompanied by at least two C-5 cargo planes which arrive well in advance and unload their cargo of two armored limousines, numerous support vehicles which will accompany the limos on an impressive motorcade, an ambulance, and often a specially equipped helicopter. As the plane lands anywhere in the world there is instant recognition for the distinctive blue and white paint, American flag, special seal and large letters proclaiming “United States of America” leave no doubt who is aboard. The moment the massive craft’s passenger emerges from the plane scores of support staff and hundreds of law enforcement personnel go to work. There will always be a large welcoming party on the ground, including the highest of governmental dignitaries. It is an impressive sight when Air Force One arrives anywhere.
On that first Palm Sunday there was a similar arrival in the city of Jerusalem. An important guest was arriving in town, coming in through the west gate. He was riding in the finest of chariots surrounded by scores of staff and security folks. The military were there in all their glory decked out in the finest of armor carrying impressive weapons, making their presence known. The most elite unit would be in the lead carrying proudly the Roman standards, visible symbols of the seat of civic power and authority. There was sure to be a welcoming party, reluctant though they might well have been, consisting of both religious and civic leaders accompanied by less than fully willing but conscripted underlings.
Pilate came in grand fashion at this time each year, not because he was chose to celebrate the Passover, rather because the Roman government feared the great feast. Paranoia was a constant companion of the occupying Roman authorities, especially when large numbers of folk gathered together. Perhaps paranoia is not the right word, for as some would say, “You are not paranoid if folks really are out to get you.” The Romans had reason to be on edge. Historians teach that during the little more than 30 years of Jesus life there were no fewer than 60 armed rebellions against the occupying Roman forces. Pilate wanted to insure that there were no more during his tenure.
Across town another royal procession would form. There would be crowds, but certainly not composed of the kind of folk you would expect to be meeting Air Force One. They were mostly poor, many were outcasts, those shunned by polite society. Some had criminal records, some were prostitutes. There were scores of broken people in the crowd, demoniacs and cripples, blind men. The vast majority would have never passed a Secret Service screening. And in a day when no self respecting dignitary would include women or children in their official party, there were many of both in this crowd. But they were all welcomed, and unlike those greeting Pilate across town, they were volunteer groupies, grass roots followers.
Of course such a rag tag cadre seems quite appropriate considering the mode of transportation chosen by the one they honored and the nature of his mission. There would be no chariot, not even a stripped down model. There was no regal war horse, not even an old gray mare, just a donkey of all things, and a colt at that. I imagine a scene similar to an adult trying to ride a child’s bicycle. There sits this grown man on a tiny donkey colt struggling to avoid dragging his feet on the ground, knees sticking up in the air, a comical sight to be sure. There would be no standard to bear, no armor, no security detail, just twelve very regular guys, fishermen, tax collectors and the like at the heart of his organization. There would be no red carpet. Even had they wished to lay one down this crowd could never have afforded it. So they cut branches, waved some of them enthusiastically and laid others, along with their humble coats, on the road in a spontaneous display of honor and respect.
Even the route into town speaks of humility. It began on the Mount of Olives which meant that a steep and narrow path would require navigation. It was not the way royalty entered town, not until this day that is. And the crowd began to chant what must have seemed a rather odd chant to those witnessing this scene. “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in highest heaven!” He certainly didn’t look like a king, the crowd with him was anything but regal, and what was this about coming in the name of God? Kings were not accustomed to coming in anyone else’s name, rather they were proficient at proclaiming themselves divine.
As was always the case with Jesus, nothing which occurred on Palm Sunday was by chance. The donkey was chosen as a clear fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy from the book of Zechariah where we read these words, “Shout and cheer, Daughter Zion! Raise the roof, Daughter Jerusalem! Your king is coming! a good king who makes all things right, a humble king riding a donkey, a mere colt of a donkey.” And the words of the crowd speak an eternal truth. Jesus came to earth to fulfill God’s mission, a mission which was proclaimed at his birth by that magnificent choir of angels. “Peace on earth.” Now the people proclaim the coming of a time of peace in heaven. Unknowingly, they are proclaiming in advance the victory over sin and death that will be the culmination of the coming week, a week which will be anything but the usual personification of peace.
The contrast couldn’t be any greater. On the west side of town gather those who seek self preservation at any cost, who represent a government built on conquest and military might, who are privileged at the expense of others and proud of it, who live in opulence. On the east gather those society would prefer to ignore, the least, the last and the lost. They gather around a leader, a king, who is anything but majestic in the eyes of the world, a king who not only has no palace, but who has no home on this earth, who seeks not conquest but peace, who not only desires to do good, but who also willingly offers his own life for the benefit of others. From the west come those consumed by things of this world, from the east come the one who, though not of this world, came to earth to show us the way home.
The lectionary text from Paul’s letter to the Philippian church captures the extraordinary nature of the king who comes from the east as he writes “Christ had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human. Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death on a cross.”
Jesus was not coming to town to threaten the civil authorities. But they didn’t know that. For all they could tell he might just be another in the long line of revolutionaries seeking to wrest political power from the occupying Romans. Jesus was not coming to town to overthrow the priests or to take over their temple. It was not the sacred artifacts he would soon turn over it would be the tables of those who were taking advantage of the faithful by overcharging for sacrificial animals. As he had proclaimed before, Jesus was not sent by God to abolish the law or to condemn the Jewish faithful, rather he came as a faithful Jew to complete the revelation of the God both he and the priests served. But the religious authorities didn’t comprehend. Like the politicians they were selfrighteously bound to the status quo and were blinded to God’s truth by their closed mindedness.
Jesus entered Jerusalem seeking, not to overthrow the government, after all he was the very one who had instructed his disciples to render to Caesar what belonged to Caesar. Jesus came down from the mountain not to destroy the temple but to sanctify it. Jesus came to town for the purpose of revealing God’s truth and as a result would give his life, not because God is a bloodthirsty tyrant, but because the civil authorities and the Jewish leaders were, and you and I are self-centered creatures in need of redemption.
But the authorities didn’t see it that way. The religious leaders feared that the Roman government would blame them if this odd fellow on the donkey were to start trouble. So they sent out some Pharisees, leaders steeped in the law, to tell him to get his group under control, to warn that in the eyes of the authorities they were somehow in violation of God’s law and to insist that they stop praising Jesus in God’s name. As we will see as we travel through this Holy Week together, they were successful, at least for the time being, in quieting the crowd. The crowd of misfits came into town shouting praise, cheering the one who came. But they were soon silenced, intimidated by those they knew could make life miserable for all who crossed them.
So why did the cheering stop? Why now did the tide turn so quickly against Jesus? For one thing, as he moved toward the cross Jesus began to speak more and more of commitment, total commitment. It was during this Holy Week that Jesus instructed the rich young ruler, a good fellow who obeyed Jewish law, that if he were to follow Jesus he must sell all his wealth and give it to the poor. Such was not only an unpopular concept, still is for that matter, but it also flew in the face of conventional wisdom of the time which said that if you were blessed financially it was because God liked you and how you lived. But Jesus says that if anything wealth makes discipleship more difficult, not easier.
Another factor may well have been Jesus’ persistent message, clearly illustrated by the crowd he brought with him, that all people, not just faithful Jews, not just the powerful, but everyone had genuine value in God’s eyes and deserved to be treated as beloved children of God. Then as now, Jesus challenges prejudice and judgementalism. He says there are not Jews and Gentiles, not men and women, just children of God. Those two dosn’t bother us, but he also says there aren’t liberals and conservatives, just children of God, there aren’t illegal aliens and good citizens, just children of God. He says there are not good kids and bad kids, just children of God. That is not to say that God does not judge behaviors or that all folk are equally faithful. But it does mean that God’s criteria and ours are often not the same when it comes to judgment. And it does mean that judgment is an activity reserved for God, who knows far better than we all hearts.
Finally I think the cheering began to be quieted because Jesus started to talk more and more of a cross. In the early part of his ministry Jesus performed miracles and talked about God’s peaceful kingdom but as his time on earth began to draw to a close he did no miracles, at least not the kind folk had become accustomed to seeing and he increasingly began to speak of sacrifice, even of giving up your life for God and for each other.
The story is told of the batter in a little league game, a real power hitter, who was sent to the plate at a crucial juncture in the game. As he looked toward his coach he recognized the signal for laying down a sacrifice bunt. He then proceeded to swing mightily at three straight pitches, missing them all, striking out. As he headed sheepishly to the dugout the coach ran up and got in his face. “Didn’t you see me give the bunt signal?” he screamed. “Yes coach, but I didn’t really think you meant it.” Isn’t that what the crowd began to say during Holy Week? Isn’t that what we often say when God calls us to real sacrifice?
The Pharisees told Jesus to make the crowd hush. “It doesn’t really matter if they hush or not.” Jesus said. “If you are successful in quieting them, the rocks will speak out the truth in their place.” A rather odd and implausible message. What he meant was that God’s truth may be quieted for a while on occasion by oppression and hatred, but it will never remain silent. God’s truth is truth no matter what and cannot and will not ever be overcome, and in the end, because of Holy Week, the King of Kings will reign forever.
If stones can speak I suspect bricks can as well. I wonder what the bricks of this building say. In Birmingham stands a marvelous Gothic church, McCoy United Methodist, the sign says. It once housed a vibrant active congregation. But the neighborhood changed racially and the congregation was unable to change with it. At one time guards were placed at the door to keep out African Americans. It is even said that one of the Birmingham church bombings was planned by a couple of men in a downstairs Sunday School room in McCoy. Now the magnificent structure stands empty. And what do those stones of McCoy United Methodist say? I suspect they may well be shouting out loud and clear a warning to us all, a reminder that we are called to follow the king who came to Jerusalem by the east gate, the king who calls to selfless commitment, the king who welcomes all, the king who sacrificed all and who calls us to do the same. For our sake, for the sake of this community and for the sake of the kingdom of God may we hear the warning and may these bricks shout loudly and clearly that this is truly the house of God. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, AMEN.
