Sermon Tone Analysis

Pastor Peter Metzger

Palm Sunday

Matthew 21:1-11

First Lutheran Church

Lake Geneva, WI

April 9, 2017

As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her.

Untie them and bring them to me.

If anyone says anything to you, tell him that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”

This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet: “Say to the Daughter of Zion, ‘See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them.

They brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them.

A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.

The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Hosanna in the highest!”

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”

The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

*Now Is the Time to Say “Hosanna”*

Palm Sunday is a special day.

Not only does it launch our Holy Week celebration, but on this day – unlike the rest of the season of Lent – we get to sing hosanna to our King!

We get to celebrate the “Triumphal Entry” of Jesus!

Palm Sunday is special because Jesus gets special treatment.

But did you know that almost everything that happened on Palm Sunday had happened before?

Jesus had been coming to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover every year since he was 12.

That wasn’t anything special.

Neither was the sight of a prominent man riding on a donkey.

Sometimes on Palm Sunday I feel like we make too big of a deal out of this, e.g.

“If he was a normal king he would have ridden in on a majestic, white steed!”

But the Bible tells us that kings had done this before.

King Solomon, one of the most decorated kings in all of Israel’s history, mounted a mule when he was anointed king.

So the donkey wasn’t all that remarkable either.

And the song that the people were singing as Jesus rode into town?

Those are simply the words of Psalm 118, a psalm that most Jews would have had memorized because they sang it every year for this festival.

So the song isn’t all that noteworthy either.

None of these things, by themselves, makes Palm Sunday particularly special.

They had all been done before.

But when you add all of them and all the other events of Palm Sunday together, an undeniable significance begins to take shape, because each of these things is only a piece of the larger Messianic mosaic that God was painting for his people, and as we piece them together their collective significance escalates dramatically.

Sure, Jesus had been to Jerusalem many times before.

But this would be the /last /time.

Jesus would die in Jerusalem before the week was through.

Sure, plenty of people rode on donkeys, even some kings, but there was a specific prophecy predicting that the long-awaited Messiah would ride into Jerusalem on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

It may seem insignificant, but even these commonplace things had to happen for Jesus to fulfill God’s promises.

Psalm 118 had been sung during the Passover for hundreds of years, but this time it wasn’t a prophetic plea anymore.

This time, its fulfillment was right in front of the people who were singing it.

The word “Hosanna” means “Save us!” That’s what Jesus’ name means too, and that’s what Jesus was coming to do.

It was only right, then, that the whole city be stirred up in this way, because all of human history had been waiting for this week to happen.

What Jesus would do between this Sunday and the next, would determine the eternal fate of every soul dead or alive or yet to be born.

Palm Sunday was a special day, because when you put all of these relatively ordinary things together, you begin to see something extraordinary; you begin to see Jesus for who he really is.

And I think it is that point that distinguishes Matthew’s Gospel from all the others.

You see, all of the Gospels record the events of this day, but Matthew is the only one who records the crowd’s question, “Who is this?”

After all of the hype, all of the buildup, all the escalation, you would expect the people to respond, “This is Jesus!

The Son of God!

The long-promised Savior of the world, come to free us from our sins!”

But that’s not the answer they gave, is it?

Instead, they fall flat and fail to put together all the pieces of this Messianic mosaic, and they say, “This is Jesus, the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Prophet!?

They couldn’t see Jesus for who he really was.

They didn’t acknowledge him as their Savior from sin; they thought he was just another preacher, which probably explains why five days later they were so easily persuaded to change their shouts from “Save us” to “Kill him!”

They just didn’t get it.

They were saying all the right things.

They were doing all the right things.

They just didn’t get it.

And so, their celebration that day would be short-lived and shallow.

Friends, I worry sometimes that we don’t always get it either.

Sure, we often say the right things and do the right things, but do we fully understand the words that we say or the reason why we do the things that we do?

Or do we get so caught up in traditions and ceremonies that the outward form becomes more important than what’s being said or done?

If so, then you can do all the traditional things that you want, but the value of traditions comes from the meaning they convey, not from the fact that “we’ve always done it that way.”

At the beginning of this service we confessed before God and each other that we’re sorry for our sins, but are you always sorry for what you did?

Or, given the chance, would you do it again?

If so, then you can say that you’re sorry all you want, but all the right words won’t change what’s in your heart.

Today is also Confirmation Sunday.

In a few minutes, these four young men will stand up and make their promises to God.

Do you remember yours?

/Do you intend faithfully to conform all your life to the teachings of God’s Word, to be faithful in the use of the Word and sacrament, and in faith and action remain true to God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – as long as you live? /

*I do, and I ask God to help me.*

Now, forget all those you’ve heard make these promises and then disappear never to be seen in church again.

How are /you/ doing with /your /promises to conform /all /your life to the teachings of God’s Word?

We are blessed beyond belief to be where we are today – to live in a country that allows us to worship God in peace, to have the faithful record of God’s Holy Word for our hearing and learning, to have 500 years of Reformation grace during which time God has raised up men to preserve the pure teaching of his Word, so that you can know who Jesus really is.

He is not just your safety net to catch you only when you fall.

He is not just a prophet who says nice things to you on Sunday.

He is not just a teacher who taught you how to live while you were in Confirmation Class.

He is your king, who deserves your complete devotion every day of the week and every day of your life.

He is the Son of David who comes in the name of the Lord, to do the Lord’s work, i.e. as we say in the Apostles’ Creed: “to judge the living and the dead.”

If Jesus were to judge you – not your words, not even your actions, but your heart – what would he find?

Would he find half-hearted worship that’s perfectly willing to serve him… when it’s convenient for you and when it satisfies your needs or when you have the time?

Would he find an empty shell of a person, whose words and actions all sound and look good, but whose heart has forgotten the meaning behind those outward forms?

If so, then now is the time to say, “Hosanna,” i.e. “Save us!” Now is the time to look at Jesus riding into Jerusalem for the last time.

He didn’t come to feel the support of all the people who were shouting his name, but because he knew that their support was fleeting and that their praise was hollow.

Jesus rode into Jerusalem to do exactly what the people were asking him to do, even though they didn’t know how true their own words were.

Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s promise of salvation.

He is the completion of that Messianic mosaic predicted by God through the Old Testament prophets.

Jesus is your king who did not come to seek your praise or your service, but to serve you in your greatest need.

Jesus came to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday so that he could die on Good Friday and rise on Easter Sunday, so that you could know who he really is – the sacrifice for your sin and your hope for eternal life.

Now is the time to say Hosanna, in sincere repentance for shallow faith, but also with full conviction that salvation has come.

Our King rode into Jerusalem to do the Lord’s work, to wash away all your sin by giving up his own life – his body and blood – on the cross.

Did you know that that’s why sing “Hosanna” every Communion Sunday, right before we come up to the altar?

Because it’s on these Sundays that Christ still comes to us – not on a donkey, but in his body and blood that we eat and drink in this sacrament.

Every communion Sunday, then, becomes a little Palm Sunday, when we can approach the altar with joyful hearts, praising God for letting his salvation come to us.

Now is the time to say “Hosanna,” and to mean it with all our hearts – not going through the motions simply because we’ve always done it that way, not making empty promises of repentance without any intention to follow through, but with complete conviction, knowing that our salvation has come and his name is Jesus.

Because of Palm Sunday, “Hosanna” takes on a whole new meaning.

It is not just a plea for God to save us.