Tears to Tear

Call To Confession:

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

We come before God not with perfect worship, but with hearts in need of grace.

Let us confess our sins, trusting in the mercy of the Lord.

Prayer: Merciful God, we confess that we often welcome you with our lips but resist you in our hearts.

Like the crowds in Jerusalem, we celebrate when it is easy but turn away when your truth confronts us. You call your house a house of prayer, yet we fill our lives with noise and distraction. You desire mercy and justice, yet we cling to comfort and self-interest. 

Forgive us, Lord. Cleanse our hearts and renew our worship. Teach us to recognize the time of your coming and to follow your Son with faith and obedience. Through Jesus Christ our Lord we pray. Amen.

Hear the good news:

The one who wept over the city is the one who gave himself for us. He was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him. By his wounds, we are healed. Thanks be to God.

Scripture:

Luke 19: 41-48

41 And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side 44 and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”45 And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold, 46 saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers.”

47 And he was teaching daily in the temple. The chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people were seeking to destroy him, 48 but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were hanging on his words.

Sermon: (Screen) My wife started watching Boston Blue, which is a spin-off of Blue Bloods. Blue Bloods was about a family of cops and a DA. Boston Blue follows one of the sons who leaves for Boston and helps out the Boston PD while his own son serves there.

There was one episode where it was St. Patrick’s Day in Boston. The whole city was celebrating with a parade. Everyone was laughing, smiling, and having a great time—but the main characters knew something else. They believed there might be a terrorist attack on the parade.

They didn’t want to alarm the city and cause panic, but they also knew something serious was happening in the background.

Everyone else was celebrating… but they could see something no one else could.

That is where we are today with our preaching text. (Screen)

Right before our passage, we have the triumphal entry. (screen) Jesus is riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, fulfilling the prophecy that the Messiah would come this way. The people and His disciples are cheering and shouting with joy. Palm branches and cloaks are laid before Him.

All the signs of a victorious king. (Screen)

This is what they had been waiting for. They believed this was the moment when they would finally be freed from Roman rule. So they shouted. They praised.

There is a Hebrew word for praise—shabach. (screen) It is that built-up pressure finally released, a shout of pure joy from deep within.

A pastor once said this word could best be captured when the Chicago Cubs won the World Series after so many years. The whole city let out a shabach. Years of frustration, coming close and not winning—and then finally, release.

That’s what I imagine is happening in Jerusalem.

They think they know what is happening.

They think they know what kind of king has come.

But they don’t.

Because while the crowd is shouting… Jesus is seeing something completely different.

As Jesus approaches the city, He begins to weep. (Screen)

The Greek word here means not just a tear rolling down His cheek—it means wailing. Deep grief.

Jesus is riding into town being celebrated as a victorious king… and He is crying.

He is crying because they do not see what is right in front of them. (screen)

“If you had only known what would bring you peace…”

They are looking for freedom from Rome. But peace—true peace—is riding into the city on a donkey.

Their tears, their sin, their brokenness have hardened their hearts. (Screen) Their hearts have become stone. They cannot see. They cannot feel what is happening in this moment.

This is not new.

Think back to the first tear in the garden. (Screen) Adam and Eve were separated from God. That tear broke the relationship. Ever since then, humanity has struggled to see God clearly.

And now here is God— (Screen) riding into the city— to restore that peace, that shalom, that perfect harmony.

And they miss Him.

The tragedy is not that God did not come…(Screen) but that they did not recognize Him when He did.

Jesus sees this, and it brings Him to tears.

And those tears don’t stay tears.

The tears of Jesus lead Him somewhere.

They lead Him straight to the temple.

(Screen) Jesus enters the temple and begins overturning the tables.

“My house will be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of robbers.”

This isn’t random anger. This is grief turned into action.

The temple—the very place meant to connect people with God—had become something else entirely.

It had become about money. About power. About systems that burden people instead of leading them to God.

If you needed an animal for sacrifice, you could buy one there. Roman money was considered unclean, so they created their own currency—at a cost. Everything revolved around profit and control.

This is exactly what Isaiah warned about—worship that looks right on the outside but is empty at its core.

The leaders kept adding more and more burdens, things the people could not carry. And the people believed that if they just did enough, maybe they could fix what was broken.

But those tears cannot be healed by anything they do.

Only by the One who wept as He entered the city… and the One who now begins flipping tables.

So Jesus tears it apart.

Because worship had become something other than meeting God. (Screen)

And before we get too hard on them…

This probably didn’t happen overnight.

It happened slowly.

Someone forgot to bring their offering. Someone else said, “I have one—just give me something for it.” Small compromises that grew into something much bigger.

And the same thing can happen to us.

We can slowly become more about butts and budgets than about prayer and people. We want people in the pews so we look like we’re thriving. We want giving so we can sustain a budget.

But we are called to be a people of prayer. (Screen)

A people who seek the lost. A people who help others see the God who heals our wounds through His.

Jesus wept over the people because they could not see Him.

And then He tore down what was keeping them from God. (Screen)

So the question is: (Screen)

Can we see Jesus?

Are we helping people see Jesus… or are we blocking them?

Sometimes people block others from seeing Jesus. Sometimes programs do. Sometimes even good intentions do.

Some thought selling goods in the temple was helpful.

But the only thing that truly belongs at the center of worship… is the One we worship.

To be honest, our tears can blind us too.

We carry wounds. We carry sin. We carry pain.

And instead of facing it, we turn to busyness. Activity. Distraction.

We stick our heads in the sand and avoid what’s really going on.

Has worship become something you have to do… or something you want to do?

There is a difference.

One comes from obligation. The other comes from healing.

Healed people know they want to worship.

But when we try to use worship to fix ourselves… we only find more tears.

We can’t fix it.

We can’t mend what’s broken on our own.

Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a simple donkey… and He cried over the people He loved.

Then He went into the temple and tore down what was keeping them from God.

And He is still doing that today.

He still brings peace. He still tears down what does not glorify Him.

The question is:

Are we laying down palms… or are we laying down our lives?

Because that is what He calls us to.

Surrender.

Stop trying to fix it yourself. Lay your life before Him.

Let Him take your heart of stone… and make it flesh again.

Today marks the beginning of a week that changes everything.

Jesus rides into the city knowing where this is going. (Screen)

To the cross.

To the moment where He Himself will be torn.

And it is that tear…(Screen) that begins to fix everything.

There is nothing else in this world that can heal what sin has broken.

Everything traces back to that first tear in the garden. And everything we try to do is an attempt to fix it ourselves.

But we can’t.

Only Christ can.

And next Sunday is coming.

And that Sunday changes everything.

But what happens between now and then matters.

Because in one week…

The world was never the same again.

And we begin to see it even now.

The tears (sadness) of Jesus lead somewhere.

They lead to a table… where the bread is torn.

They lead to a cross… where the veil is torn.

And they lead to a garden…

And in that garden, something begins to change.

Because in Christ, we don’t just survive…

we begin to live again.

As the Foo Fighters put it:

“It’s times like these you learn to live again, it’s times like these you learn to love again…”

And that is what Easter is.

Where from the tear… beauty begins to grow.

Thanks be to God. (Screen)