Heart for the City
Luke 19:37-44
Today is Palm Sunday which celebrates Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. More than 200,000 people descended on Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover, the most important Jewish holiday of the year. Passover celebrates when God delivered the Israelites out of Egypt and rescued them from slavery. In the midst of this celebration comes Jesus, whom everyone has been talking about, because of his miracles and teaching, and fulfilling all sorts of prophecies about the promised Messiah. The people waved palm branches and shouted “Hosanna!” proclaiming Jesus as the long awaited Messiah. As he arrived, the city was going nuts. It was an electric atmosphere, so much so, that Jesus said if the people didn’t celebrate, the rocks would surely cry out. He even rode into the city on a colt, just like the prophet Zechariah said the Messiah would. The people went wild. They are ready to crown him as king right then and there.
Despite all of this, Jesus doesn’t seem to join in on the party. For Jesus, this isn’t just a journey to celebrate the Passover, it’s a journey to the cross. Instead of getting caught up in all of the hype and the people celebrating their long-awaited king, Jesus isn’t all that thrilled. That’s because Jesus sees something they don’t: the cross. But more than that, he recognizes that the crowds just don’t get it. In verse 42, Jesus says, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.” Even though these people are all fired up and excited about Jesus coming into the city, he knows they still don’t understand that in just a matter of days, their shouts of “Hosanna” will change to “crucify him!”
As he approached the city, Jesus speaks a message of warning and judgment over the city because they had failed to recognize their long awaited Messiah. The judgment he was talking about was the destruction of the temple that would come almost 40 years later in 70 AD when the Romans completely leveled it to the ground. In this Scripture passage, we see one of the most powerful and shocking acts of Jesus: Jesus is moved to tears. He is literally weeping over the city. In this moment we are seeing the heart of Jesus and what’s at the heart of the gospel: love and compassion. The judgment Jesus has just pronounced over the city isn’t coming from some stern cold justice; it’s coming from a heart of love and compassion. You can’t separate the tears from the message. Jesus is weeping over the city because his heart is broken. In this act, we understand the motivation behind Jesus’ journey toward the cross. It wasn’t wrath or anger. What drove Jesus toward the cross was love and compassion. We see in Jesus a God who doesn’t stand at a distance physically and emotionally removed from us, but in Jesus, we see a God who is incredibly involved and emotionally and personally invested in what happens here.
This brings to mind the only other occasion when the scriptures tell us Jesus was moved to tears. In John 11, Jesus receives news that his best friend had died. Jesus arrives three days later but Jesus knows how this would turn out. Jesus says at least five times that Lazarus’ sickness wouldn’t end in death. Jesus knew that everything was going to be okay, and yet, when he gets into town and sees how upset everyone is over the loss of their friend, Jesus is deeply moved and he weeps with them. God is all-powerful; yes, God knows everything, but God still feels our pain, and He hurts with us.
We experience God’s presence most in the middle of our pain and grief. Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Some of you can relate. There is a deeper level of intimacy we experience with God when we are going through something really difficult. When we are hurting and grieving God is right there the entire time, closer than we thought. Our God doesn’t stand at a distance, but actually steps down into our story. God knows our pain, weeps with us and not only suffers with us, but on our behalf. When it comes to suffering and pain, the cross is God’s way of saying, “me too.” Isaiah 53:5 says, “He was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” Gods knows our pain, he knows what a mess our lives are and he knows how much we need his grace and strength. It’s in cross that God provides what we need and lets us know he has experienced our pain and suffering and is with us in the midst of it.
We are to reflect the love and compassion of Christ toward our city. This comfort and compassion we receive from God isn’t something we’re supposed to keep to ourselves. It is supposed to spill over into the world around us. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” It is God’s desire that the comfort and compassion we receive from him should change the way we live and how we interact with the people around us. That starts with a transformation within us. Jesus ruins you in a wonderful way. Because of Christ, you are not who used to be. You should be different because of him and that’s how it’s supposed to work. The longer you follow Jesus, the more your desires change. You start to want what Jesus wants. You start to care about what Jesus cares about. Your heart begins to break over the things that break Jesus’ heart. The love and comfort we experience from God is supposed to change the way we live, what we care about and influence how we interact with others. We are called to be the visible demonstrations of God’s love, faithfulness and compassion to the world.
We live in the city that love forgot. As much as I love New Orleans, I have to admit that it was a pretty broken place filled with crime, a broken educational system, poverty, drugs, and corruption. The city had been crumbling all around us and its infrastructure was broken and its social structures even more. Many of you don’t live in the city. Instead, you live in Jefferson Parish. Some of you moved here out of the city to escape the problems of New Orleans. And some of you even refuse to cross the river. But the problems that once were confined to New Orleans are now a part of Jefferson Parish. And whether you own it or not, how the city of New Orleans goes, so goes Jefferson Parish. But here’s my question: do you weep over the city, its economic, physical and spiritual condition? Do you weep over Jefferson Parish? When I got appointed to Aldersgate UMC, my wife and I were living Uptown. We loved living there and the home we had bought. I had hoped to talk to my senior minister about commuting to Slidell. People do it all the time but he said no. And I remember moving over to Slidell and on the drive tears just streaming down my face because I was having to leave the city. For months thereafter, I felt a profound sense of guilt in leaving the city, a city that needed people living in it and committed to it. Have you wept over your city?
I don’t know about you, but I want things to change. I want things to be different and that change begins with us sharing God’s heart for our city. We are called to be visible demonstrations of God’s love, faithfulness and compassion to a city that desperately needs it. Reflecting Christ’s compassion toward our city is going to require a couple of things. One, it is going to require proximity. Compassion isn’t something you can give from a distance. Compassion requires us to get up close and personal. The Message translation John 1:1, “The word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.” Our God doesn’t stand at a distance and neither can we. How close are you to the broken places in our city? How insulated are you to the needs of your city? It is easy to hear all the problems and just write them and the sity off, but these represent real people, their hopes and dreams and their pain and suffering. These are real families, real parents and real children. It is easy to stand at a distance and make all sorts of assumptions, rationalizations and judgements but the closer you get, the more you realize it’s about people, God’s children whom He so loves and for whom He went to the cross.
It takes relational proximity. We’re surrounded by people who are hard to love, amen? How much do you know about them? Do you know their story? What is it like to be them? What have they been through? Unless you get to know them, you will never come to understand them or to have a heart of love and compassion for them. Only then will it start to change the way you feel about them. Compassion requires proximity. It requires us to get up close and personal. What would it look like for you to take a step closer to the broken places and people in our city? Whose story do you need to get to know? When was the last time you prayerfully walked or drove through the city of New Orleans or even Jefferson Parish? Compassion requires us to get personal.
Secondly, you can’t have compassion without passion. Compassion isn’t sympathy. Where sympathy stops, compassion keeps going. Compassion requires action and sacrifice. The word passion was first used to describe the sufferings of Christ, what Jesus was willing to do on the cross. Remember what we have been saying all throughout this series—the cross isn’t just a symbol we believe in, it is a way of life that we are called to. Jesus calls each of us to take up our cross and to follow him. Taking up our cross is about more than enduring through difficult circumstances. It is about embracing redemptive suffering for the glory of God and the benefit and blessing of others. It’s about following Jesus into the broken places in the world and partnering with him to be with people, to love them and minister to their needs. It’s about being personally and relationally invested in other people because one of the primary ways God works is through relationships. So the question is, how are you connecting to the broken, hurting and suffering? Compassion and love is first and foremost sacrificial. It’s supposed to cost you something; so what is it costing you? If you aren’t involved here, why not. And is any excuse sufficient for Jesus for you not to be?
What we see in Jesus is a God who doesn’t stand at a distance, but who steps down into our story, who is personally and emotionally invested in what happens here. What drove Jesus to the cross was love and compassion. Following Jesus is going to require that we embody this compassion to the world around us. What New Orleans and even Jefferson Parish really needs isn’t sympathy or a bunch of resources, or money. What they really need is Jesus. They need the Gospel. Guess who God expects to deliver this Good News? You. Me. Us.
Easter is the celebration of the miracle of the resurrection. Being people of the resurrection means we look to the future of our community and of our city. Our belief isn’t based on the belief that things can change. No, our hope is based on the belief that they already have. The tomb is empty. Death has been defeated. The kingdom of heaven is here and now. What would happen if we lived like we actually believed all of this? There are a lot of exciting things happening in New Orleans. God is working and moving, and we just need to join with God in what he is already doing and sharing his heart for the city. Only then willl the resurrection become tangible for us and for our city.
