Sermon for Palm Sunday
April 17, 2011
When living in Jasper Indiana my family and I collected cats. That’s right cats. We lived on three acres surrounded by thousands of acres of farm land. Therefore we encountered quite a few varmints such as snakes and mice. Hence cats. At one time I believe we had eight of the furry creatures. All with names and costing me a fortune in vet bills.
One day a friendly stray showed up, we even name it—Garfield, but the family of eight wanted nothing to do with newly found freeloader, so they chased it up one the giant pecan trees in the back yard, and there believe or not that poor cat stayed for 5 days.
We would go to work and come home—there Garfield sat. We go to church come home—and there meowed our four legged friend. I wasn’t too worried. I figured someday it had to come down. After all have you ever in your life seen a cat skeleton up in a tree?
Well my wife didn’t see it that way. One Saturday morning right before Easter, four years ago, I see Sandy coming out the barn with our extension ladder to get this brain dead kitty out of its new home. I tried convincing my wife this was not a good idea, but you try swaying a cat lover with a mind made up. So I did the next best thing. I became that good husband. After all, I didn’t want her to get hurt.
So up I climbed, 28’ to be exact, and the little critter actually seemed happy to see me. I reach out and grabbed Garfield by the nap of the neck. But not realizing I was trying to save him or her, the now not so friendly stray took a swipe at my face.
I stepped back and suddenly realize there was nothing to step back on, but air, and quickly realized this was going to hurt. It did!
The sad part of the story, or funny part depending how you look at it, is that Lindsey saw me fall from the kitchen and came running. In the process she allowed Nebo our golden Retriever out, and Nebo proceeded to chase Garfield whom I brought down in the fall right back up the tree.
I lay on the ground for more than 45 minutes or so, telling Sandy to just go away, not in those words, because I knew it wasn’t good. Eventually she back up the van into the grass, loaded in me in the back and off to the hospital we headed.
Here’s another sad or funny part of the story, depending how you look at it. Once we got to the Emergency Room, the doctor actually started laughing. I’ve got a left ankle shattered in four places and a broken right leg and my doctor starts laughing—which doesn’t do a whole lot for your ego.
Then the kicker, and the one thing I remember ever so clearly was that he wanted to examine my head. I’ve got two broken legs and this doctor wants to examine my head. I’m not quite certain if he was worried about the distance I fell, or worried about why in the world I would do what I just did. Anyway, on that particular day four years ago I had to have my entire head examined.
Yes a long story about a silly event. But isn’t that the truth about all of us? Don’t we in the midst of our brokenness sometimes need to have our heads examined?
After all, think for a moment about today. We started this morning with a song singing “All glory, laud and honor to your redeemer king, to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.”
Then we hear Scripture exclaiming “Hosanna, in the highest. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the Highest.”
Hosanna basically means “Save Us! Save Us! So basically, the crowds where throwing their garments on the road, waving their palm branches and screaming, “Save us! Save us!” Little did they know that is exactly what Jesus was doing.
Then, then if we step back and read what happens over the next few days we find betrayal, denial, abandonment, and crucifixion.
Yes, we come to church. Maybe even study the Bible a little. For the most part claim to believe that Jesus is the Savior. We shout over and over again “Save us, Save us,” And God does—through this holy of holiest weeks—we call it the Passion of Jesus Christ! God’s passionate love for me—for you!
If people only had the slightest idea what happened some two thousand years ago during this week the churches would be packed today, jammed to gills on Maundy Thursday, overflowing on Good Friday, and standing room only at the Easter Vigil. Next Sunday you would have to leave for service one hour early simply because of the traffic, and finding a place to park would be nightmare.
However, we all know good and well that will not be the case. Why? Is it because we just don’t know the story? Or is it simply because we need our heads examined?
Well I can’t do anything about your heads, but I can do something about the story part.
Jesus has just spent the better part of 3 years teaching through words and action what the Kingdom of God should look like—where the sick are healed, bones are mended, demons are driven out, hungry crowds are fed, forgiveness is offered to the unforgivable, love is shown to the unlovable and the dead are raised. And now today this king on a donkey rides into Jerusalem knowingly riding to his death.
This coming Thursday, we celebrate this Lamb of God giving us a new commandment—that what Maundy means in Latin—a new command. To love God and love one another, sharing with us his body, his blood, washing his disciple’s feet, so you and I may be willing and able to continue the work of Jesus in the world, sharing what the Kingdom of God should look like, now through our words and action.
Yet on this very same night, Jesus is betrayed by his own disciple for 30 pieces of silver. Denied by his closest friend. Abandoned by every one of his followers. He is dragged away as a criminal for committing no crime. This silent innocent king stands in front of earthly powers where he is beaten, spat upon, and found guilty.
Then on Good Friday the Son of God will have a crown of thrones placed on his head, nails driven into his hands and feet and crucified—executed for me—for you!
You see, if we truly owned this passionate story in our hearts and minds it would not only have to make a huge difference in our lives, but in the world.
So one must conclude that either we don’t know, don’t believe the story, or by golly we simply need our heads examined.
A few years back in Jasper, I had a young woman come and see me out of blue. This poor person was having the life beat out of her. Both her and her husband worked at the same place and lost their jobs. They were fighting like crazy. The banks were threatening to take away the cars and home. Her son was in an automobile accident and in danger of losing a leg. The poor thing was at wits end.
We went into the sanctuary and prayed. I told her about the hope God gives in hopeless situations. I gave her some information about the church. I went and visited her son. Every Sunday she came faithfully to worship—for about a month. One particular day, I saw her in Walmart.
I had not seen her at church for a few weeks and so I asked her how things were going. She claimed everything thing was all better now. Both her and her husband were rehired at the company, her relationship with her husband had improved, and her son was doing just fine on his two legs.
Then she said something that no longer shocks me. She said, “You probably won’t be seeing me a church anymore. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I was just worrying too much. After all things just have a way of working themselves out. Right pastor?”
We shout Save us, Save us and God does in this one Holy Week. What then do we do?
Do we continually betray Jesus like Judas for 30 pieces of silver—seeking things instead of peace and understanding?
Do we abandon him like the disciples, going about our daily lives as if Jesus never did ride into town?
Some of us like Peter deny even knowing Jesus. Some of us may spit on his name by our thoughts.
In effect even though Jesus is trying to save us, we yell, “Crucify him, Crucify him,” and over and over, week after week, we once again nail the Son of God to the cross with our daily lives, just like the crowds and the Romans. Ouch uh?
Yet, here’s the amazing part of the story. Even, even through our betrayal, fear, denial, abandonment. Even through the spitting on his name, nailing the one who saves us on a cross. This conquering Christ, Jesus riding on a donkey is still, let me repeat, is still willing to suffer and climb up that tree and die for you, so that you may experience the abundance of life here and now and eternal life in the world yet to come.
Now that’s what I call the Gospel—Good news that the world cannot offer in any shape or form. Not through our wealth, or career, not even through family or friends. It is only offered through the Passion of Jesus Christ.
This week not only make it a priority to attend all the Holy Week services—Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil, think long and carefully how you respond to the only one who can heal our brokenness and save our sorry souls.
Think long and carefully how you have a God willing to overlook your tremendous shortcomings and give you life, through his death.
And folks if The Passion Story, does not change the way you think and live, if the Cross, the life, death, and resurrection of Christ Jesus does not make you realize the Love of God, then maybe, just maybe you really do need to have your head examined.
Hosanna! Save Us! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Amen.
