Marching On (Palm Sunday)

Marching Memories

I love parades. I love standing on the side and cheering people on. I love pointing out missed candy still on the street to my boys or children around us. I also love participating in parades. I can tell you though, there is a big difference between watching a parade and being -in- a parade.

In high school I had the distinction of being the first person to have been in both band and ROTC all the way through til my senior year. And there were probably reasons for that! In my senior year of High School, I was on our ROTC’s competition color guard team, I was commander of our unarmed drill team, and on top of that I was an involved member for our marching band.

Needless to say, when it was marching season… I was -busy-. There were times that I was marching up to 7 hours a day between the different teams in high school. And I -loved- it.

And all of that work, all of that effort would lead to those all-important competitions and, yes, the parades. And I remember in the parades, watching the hundreds and even thousands of people lining the streets as we would go past. I remember the cheers and excitement.

And I remember the moment when we would finally reach to end… and it was over. The cheers went from hundreds and thousands to the occasional person yelling “go band!” or “oo-rah!” depending on which uniform I was wearing. But mostly all that was left, was exhaustion and maybe an ice cream cone.

Jesus’ Parade is Over

Today we hear the familiar words of Jesus’ parade into Jerusalem. Scripture makes no mention of marching bands or high school ROTC color guards… only a Messiah, his colt, and a crowd. And yet the excitement that we imagine in these moments was at a fevered pitch.

The people were ready for this Jesus. At least, some of the people were ready for who they thought he was.

But what caught my attention this year as I read through these familiar words was not the procession… not the palms… not the refrains of “Hosanna in the Highest Heaven!” No… what caught my attention was the end of the parade.

Now we don’t know how the crowd reacted when Jesus actually -entered- Jerusalem. All of the cloak throwing and branch waving seemed to happen before he reached the gates. Because after all of this hub-bub about the Messiah and the waving of the palm branches, we read in verse eleven: “Then, he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple;”

Now remember, of course, the crowds’ expectations of Jesus were that he was going to be crowned king. That’s what the cloaks and branches were all about.

The cloaks being spread on the ground echoed the coronation of King Jehu of Israel some 800 years earlier. And the branches would have brought about reminders of when Jerusalem was conquered by Simon Maccabeus.

There was probably a buzz among the crowd… wondering just how this new king would take power. Would he kneel down and pray, summoning forth some great angelic host?

Would he pull out a sword at the gates and lead the crowd in a frenzied charge against Jerusalem’s Roman defenders? Imagine if Jesus had pointed toward the city walls and told Israel the time for them to fight was now! They may well have followed his call in that moment if he had.

But instead Jesus’ entry into the city appears to be so miraculously uneventful on the Messiah’s part that Mark doesn’t even write about it. Jesus enters and goes toward the temple.

And here’s the kicker of what scripture tells us here. Still verse 11. “Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he wen tout to Bethany with the twelve.”

The moment the crowd had been waiting for, Jesus entering the temple… the possibility of him being crowned in a triumphant entry as kings of ages past had done… and Jesus looks around and leaves.

The hour had come, the moment had come, he was in a position to potentially seize the power that the crowd was trying to thrust upon him and… he walked away into the evening.

The tragic irony of this moment is that Jesus is indeed on his way to receive a crown… but a crown of thorns. And he knows it. From the moment Jesus had spoken openly to the disciples in chapter 8 about his divine origin, that he was indeed the Messiah… he also prophesied his fate of being lifted up not on a throne but on a cross.

Jesus had already set his face toward an ending of death. Not because his mission is to die, per say. But because his blunt speaking of truth would prove too much for those in power.

As Dr. Ira Diggers, academic dean from Luther Southern Seminary states on this passage, “Jesus chooses death because toning down God’ healing love—to avoid death—is not an option for the Messiah. Jesus can only love at full speed. And Jesus knows that this same love will overcome death itself. This is not your normal power-wielding, army-raising king.”

Rather than putting the willing people of Israel in front of him into a glorious battle, or calling angels down to do his work, Jesus moves with all haste to put himself at the front lines of love’s war. Over the next 3 chapters of Mark we will see him move again and again to speak the truth of God’s love at his own expense.

A New King

In his book, The Freedom Revolution and the Churches, Robert Spike recalls an incident from the early years of the turbulent civil rights movement. Flying out of Jackson, Mississippi, Spike overhears the conversation of a Catholic sister, sitting across the aisle from him, with her seat companion.

The sister is lamenting all the unrest in Mississippi, and she complains about the "outside agitators," the students and church leaders who have come to her state in support of civil rights, certain that their presence is provoking violence on the part of white racists. "I do not question their dedication, nor even the rightness of their position," said the sister. "But surely it is a bad thing to create turmoil by stirring up people who feel differently." As the sister talks, all the while she is nervously fingering a cross hanging around her neck.

There's a tragic irony in the sister's words and actions, not unlike that of the first Holy Week. For the one whose cross the sister holds most dear, Jesus, would never have taken the risk of going to Jerusalem and proclaiming a new way of living, would never have confronted comfortable patterns and ultimately endured the cross, had he followed the sister's philosophy.

Perhaps we’re ready to cheer Jesus on in his stirring of the pot in the name of God’s love and justice.... at least until we realize that we see our own actions and words in what Jesus calls out.

He tells us that what we should be doing is serving and helping and empowering all people according to their needs. And Jesus challenges us for not keeping our promises when the going gets tough. Peter promised that he'd be faithful to the end when, in fact, he knew good and well that as soon as things turned sour he was going to hightail it out of there. Remember how he denied Jesus three times? Happens in the best of families. Teenager gets in trouble with the law. Family member develops mental illness. Husband or wife gets sick. Grandparent gets old and frail. A son or daughter comes out of the closet. A family member shows up on the wrong side of the political isle. And we abandon them.

There are a lot of abandoned people in our families. And like with Peter in the courtyard, the cock crows in our Jerusalem. Jesus looks at you and me - and weeps. There are a lot of very unhealthy relationships around the dinner table in our families. And Jesus exposes them all. That’s what happens when he comes to our Jerusalem.

All week long it happens. At the church. At dinner. In the garden with our Lord. Jesus holds up the mirror to us in every dimension of our lives - our faith, our families, our personal situations - and he shows us the truth about ourselves. And tells us we've failed. And that there's more expected of us. And that, unless we change, we'll destroy ourselves, and our families, and our world.

And that's why Jesus confronts you and me this week. Not to break us, but to heal us. Not to knock us down, but to call us higher. Not to condemn us, but to challenge us with a higher calling!

As you look back over the course of your life, I think you'll agree with me that the people who have most helped you are so often the people who wouldn't let you settle for less.

It was the teacher who made you work hard enough to discover your potential and ability. It was the parent who would not accept anything less than your best effort. And that's the call of the cross.

Whenever it is raised up in your life, you need to hear it calling you to something higher than where you are, to something greater than what you've got, to accomplishment and service better than what you've done!

You can do better with your life! You can accomplish more for others! You can be a better spouse, a better parent, a better kid, a better grandparent. You can be a stronger and more faithful Christian. You can be more loving and caring. You can be more forgiving. You can use your blessings more effectively than you have in the past. You can accomplish more for the Kingdom of God!

So today, Jesus comes into Jerusalem. He marches into your life and mine. And instead of being perched on a throne he lifts up the cross. He teaches us about sacrificial love. He shows us what it is to live until we’re exhausted out of care and compassion for the same people that we might be tempted to otherwise abandon or for causes that we’d rather not be a part of because we might stir the pot even though we believe that the cause is just and that Jesus would perhaps be standing with those that we are afraid to.

For it is only in the cross that we can learn who we really are. The cross transforms us, not only for the life to come that we have been promised in baptism… but in this life as well.

As this Holy Week begins, where do you hear Jesus speaking to you? What needs to change? What needs to be put away? What needs to be taken up? What do you need to be doing better? As Jesus speaks to you and me today in our Jerusalem, he invites us to lift high the cross and follow him.

Amen