Sunday, March 25, 2018

Sermon for Palm Sunday on Mark 11:1-11

How do you change the world?

Some people try to change the world with a business plan. They identify a need, they come up with a product that meets that need, and they get out there and aggressively sell it. Along the way they may need to beat down a few competitors. They may need to be willing to take a few risks and work some very, very long hours. If they’re successful, the rewards can be amazing! The world is a very different place now because of Alexander Graham Bell, or Henry Ford, or Bill Gates, or Mark Zuckerberg. But along the way there have been a lot of failed plans as well.

Some people try to change the world with a battle plan. They raise an army, establish an objective, and unleash the dogs of war. Maybe they’re would-be emperors out to enlarge their empires by force. But they might also be would-be liberators, wanting to set their people free. Either way, there’s going to be a lot of blood spilled on the way to their goal. And when they reach their goal, they’re not going to be secure. Victories won by military force can be overturned just as easily, in five years or ten years or a generation.

Some people try to change the world with a political plan. Maybe they’re the first people to articulate a particular political philosophy, like Thomas Paine or Karl Marx. Or maybe they’re just a charismatic leader or a good organizer, someone who can mobilize the party and fire them up and help them believe they can reach the goal – a Margaret Thatcher, a Nelson Mandela, a Tommy Douglas. Whatever their political philosophy may be, they can only put it into practice if they can gain power, which gives them the ability to see their vision turned into laws that people have to follow and policy they have to implement.

So you can change the world with a business plan, or a battle plan, or a political plan.

And then there’s Jesus. What’s he up to this week? How’s he going to try to change the world? What’s his plan?

Well, let’s look at the big picture. You see, we have a problem when we read the Bible mainly in little bits; we don’t notice the big picture, the way the story develops, the twists and changes in the plot. And one feature that has been fairly consistent in Mark’s plot up ‘til now has been that Jesus hasn’t been particularly up-front about his claims. Some of his followers have been using the word ‘Messiah’, but Jesus hasn’t used it himself – he’s used the more ambiguous phrase, ‘Son of Man’. His followers have wanted to spread the word about his healings, but Jesus has warned people not to tell anyone about what he’s done for them (a vain hope that turned out to be!). When he’s been getting a lot of attention in a place like Bethsaida, his disciples have urged him to stay around and enjoy his popularity, but Jesus has insisted on moving on to new territory. It’s as if he’s trying hard not to make too big a splash – as if he doesn’t want to attract too much attention from the Jewish leaders or the Romans. John has a phrase he uses for this in his gospel; he says, ‘Jesus’ hour had not yet come’.

But now all this changes.

Jesus and his disciples have come to Jerusalem as pilgrims for the Passover festival. They would not have come by themselves; they would have come as part of a large party of pilgrims from Galilee, travelling together for safety as well as for fellowship. Their journey would have been about a hundred miles, and as far as we know, Jesus walked all the way. In fact, in all four gospels, we have no record of him ever having ridden anywhere, except this one story. After a hundred-mile journey on foot, he chooses to borrow a donkey’s colt and ride the last two miles, down into the city of Jerusalem. Surely he didn’t just do that because his feet were tired?

Notice the careful arrangements; obviously Jesus has thought ahead. He doesn’t appear to own a donkey himself, but he’s going to need one. Ah yes, there’s that man we know in Bethany – he’s got one we could borrow. So somehow Jesus has sent word to the owner; he’s arranged a signal by which his disciples can be known. And the disciples have made plans for the entry, too – the first century equivalent of the ‘red carpet treatment’ – coats and cloaks thrown on the ground, palm branches waving in the air, ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest”’ This, by the way, was not the Jerusalem crowd saying these things; the most natural way to read the story is to understand that it was the pilgrims who came with him from Galilee. A few days later the Jerusalem crowd is going to have a different response: “Crucify him!”

So what’s going on here? Any Jewish boy or girl would have remembered the words of the prophet Zechariah:
‘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.
He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim
and the war-horse from Jerusalem;
and the battle-bow shall be cut off,
and he shall command peace to the nations;
his dominion shall be from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth’ (Zechariah 9:9-10).

Here comes the king of Israel! But he’s not riding a huge great stallion or war horse like a conquering king riding into the city at the head of his army. He’s ‘triumphant and victorious’ says Zechariah, but then in an almost comic twist he adds, ‘humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey’ (v.9).

Kings in the ancient world did sometimes ride donkeys, and it meant that they were coming in peace, not as conquerors. This fits in with Zechariah’s context – the king to come will cut off the chariot and war horse and battle bow, and he will command peace to the nations.

So this is what Jesus is up to. This is why, for the first time in his ministry as far as we can tell, he chooses to ride instead of walk. He’s intentionally acting out the prophecy of Zechariah. To ride a donkey in procession into Jerusalem was to claim to be the King Zechariah had promised.
So no more subtlety! No more ambiguity! No more trying to stay out of the limelight and avoid the attention of the establishment. Now Jesus is being intentionally provocative. He’s moving right into their face, making his claim. As John says, ‘his hour had come’. What comes next is even more provocative: he marches into the temple and starts throwing out the moneychangers and the sellers of sacrificial animals – acting as if he owns the place. After all – if he’s the king, he does!

Which makes what comes next even more remarkable. Everyone’s expecting a battle plan, or a political plan. What do we do first, Jesus? Go to the Sanhedrin and get their support? Raise up a Jewish army in the name of the Lord of Hosts to drive out the Roman legions?

No – how about we just go into the temple, sit down and start teaching people? Let’s heal people, and talk about the kingdom of God. And at the end of the week, let’s refuse to hide; let’s make it easy to be arrested by the establishment. Let’s submit to mocking, and whipping, and torture, and a rebel’s death on a Roman cross. Instead of grasping for political and military power, let’s allow ourselves to be defeated by the powers that be. And instead of calling down vengeance from heaven, let’s forgive them instead. That’s the plan, boys; glad you asked!

I’m sure Jesus was as disturbed by the abuses of the Romans and the Jewish authorities as anyone else, but he knew they weren’t the most important enemy. The most powerful enemy humans face is inside us: our human propensity for messing things up, for breaking things, for breaking people and relationships – in other words, the evil and sin that infects us. This is the enemy that spoils our relationship with God and with other human beings. This is the enemy that energizes every evil dictator and tyrant who’s ever lived. This is the enemy that must be defeated before injustice and oppression can be broken forever.

Jesus chose to defeat this enemy by the power of love, not the love of power. His whole life was a demonstration of the fact that God is love, and that God loves everyone he has made. God loves us so much that he is willing to come among us, teach us the way to know him, and give us the power to follow him. And when we get mad at him for doing this – when we reject his love – he still refuses to take revenge or force us to follow him. He overcomes evil with good, and hatred with love.

So Jesus doesn’t have a business plan, or a battle plan, or a political plan. Jesus has a love plan. It begins with God reconciling the world to himself, not counting our sins against us, but forgiving us. And it continues as we, the followers of this strange new King, choose to do the things he taught us to do: loving one another, refusing to treat people as enemies, forgiving them, serving them, laying down our lives for them. This is the love that changes the world.

“That's a tall order!” you say. Yes, indeed! Three chapters before in Mark’s gospel, Jesus said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34). The way of the cross is the way of costly love. It’s always hard - but it’s the way Jesus has chosen to spread the Kingdom of God.


So let’s resolve again to follow the example of Jesus - speaking the truth in love, and walking the hard road of the cross in love for others. Jesus doesn’t have a business plan, or a battle plan, or a political plan – he has a love plan. It’s the only plan he has, and there’s a place in it for every one of us, as we walk the way of the Cross with him.

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