“On the Road Again”
Mark 11:1-11
Providence United Presbyterian Church
April 5, 2009 (Palm Sunday B)
Rev. Dr. Mary Jane Hitt
&= nbsp; If you watched TV last week, you undoubtedly saw the news coverage of the Obamas’ trip to London for the G-20 summit, so you know all about the amazing thing that happened there. And I’m not talking about the meeting itself, or the plans that came out of it. The really= amazing thing that had the press abuzz was something entirely different = 211; something that happened when Michelle Obama and Queen Elizabeth were chatti= ng in the Throne Room of Buckingham Palace.&n= bsp; An official photograph of the gathered world leaders had just been taken, and while folks were leaving, the Queen and the First Lady struck up= a conversation.
&= nbsp; What happened next rocked the world. Or at least Britain. Here’= s how the Daily Mail reported it:
“The Queen started chattin=
g to
Michelle Obama. She appeared =
to
look up at her and make a comment about how tall she was,” said an
eyewitness. “As she did=
, she
put her arm around Mrs. Obama and rested her gloved hand on the small of her
back.”
R=
20;Almost
simultaneously, Mrs. Obama put her arm around the Queen’s shoulders
rather more firmly. The pair =
then
looked at their feet and appeared to be discussing their shoes.”
R=
20;The
Queen then dropped her arm and, a few seconds later, Michelle did the
same. The entire exchange las=
ted
around eight to ten seconds but was absolutely extraordinary,” gasped=
the
observer.
So what was the big deal= ? Well, it appears that to touch the = Queen is a major violation of royal protocol.&nb= sp; And so no one familiar with royal protocol could believe what happened. In 57 years, the Qu= een has never been seen putting her arm around another person, and then when th= e First Lady reciprocated by putting an arm around the Queen, it created quite a stir. That just isn’t d= one, although the Queen appeared not to mind.
Now I’ve never bee=
n in the
presence of a king or queen, but I do know something about protocol. And so do you. There are rules for how people in
positions of authority behave, and for how we treat them. It’s true for mayors and gov=
ernors
and presidents, and it’s never more true than for kings and queens.
That’s nothing new= , of course. Even in Biblical time= s, kings and queens were treated differently from the rest of the population.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> They were awarded great honor and respect. They lived lavish lifestyles, as we remember from the stories of King David, with his royal palace and fine garments and horses and chariots and armies. And those who followed in David= 217;s line, most notably his son, King Solomon, lived even more luxuriously. Royal status was reflected in elab= orate protocols that determined how kings were to behave and how they were to be treated.
The people of Jesus̵= 7; time knew the all about the great kings of the past. They knew the stories of David and Solomon and the grandeur of their lives.&n= bsp; So it really isn’t surprising that when the Jewish people anticipated the coming of the Son of David, they imagined a religious and military ruler who would come in splendor and power. They were eagerly awaiting the day= when their new king would ride into Jerusalem to overthrow the Roman oppressors = and once again sit on David’s throne.
Jesus, of course, knew a= ll that. He had been taught the stories of his people from the days of his boyhood. He knew all about the people’= ;s hope that the reign of David would be restored in all its splendor. He knew that the people were expec= ting a powerful king to arise to rule over them.&= nbsp; But he knew something else, as well. He knew that the power of God and = the power of the king are not the same thing.&= nbsp; He knew that the reign of God and the reign of the king are not the = same thing. And he knew what he= had been called by God, at his baptism, to do. In the wilderness, Jesus had been confronted by the temptation of power and glory, but had said no to the all= ure of the ways of the world. He = would walk a different path.
And so it was that one d= ay after three or so years of ministry, Jesus put into action the final act of the d= rama that would lead to his death. Traveling with his disciples just a mile or so from Jerusalem, he se= nt two of them ahead to find the colt of a donkey. They brought it to him and spread their cloaks on it, and he sat on it, beginning a journey that looke= d nothing like a royal procession: No stately steed, but a little donkey; no entourag= e of soldiers, but a band of rag-tag peasants; no threat of violence, but a disp= lay of humility; no weapon, but that of a gentle spirit.
Down the road from the M= ount of Olives and through the Kidron Valley they went, Jesus and those who walked = with him. The crowd cried, “Hosanna! Blessed is th= e one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” But Jesus said nothing.
When they got to the Cit= y of Jerusalem, Jesus went into the temple.&nbs= p; Mark tells us that he “looked around at everything” and then, “as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.”
As Jesus “looked a= round at everything,” he no doubt remembered all the times before when he had = been in the temple. He had been th= ere as an infant, presented by his parents 40 days after his birth; he had been th= ere as a curious 12-year-old, sitting at the feet of the rabbis to learn from t= hem; he had been there at least once a year over the course of his adult life for Passover; he had been there when the devil took him to the pinnacle of the temple to entice him to jump off and put on a spectacular show of divine po= wer, with angels saving him from certain death; he had even taught there, proclaiming himself the river of life and the light of the world.
Yes, Jesus knew the temp= le well. And now he stood there = and his heart broke as he saw what had happened to the place that he loved. The next day, he would be back, dr= iving out animals and moneychangers and overturning the whole rule- and sacrifice-based religious system that was symbolized by the temple, but for= now he just stood there, taking it all in.
He knew, even if the cro= wds that followed him did not, that the procession in which he had ridden down the M= ount of Olives had been not a celebratory parade at all, but rather a protest ma= rch – even a funeral procession. He knew that when the crowds cried out “Hosanna!” (“Save us!”), they didn’t realize what they were asking – they didn’t understand that God’s salvation wouldn̵= 7;t come in the form of military power, but in the servant power of one who rod= e a humble donkey.
But we know. We know exactly how the story plays out. And so as we have gather= ed here this Palm Sunday, we can hear God inviting us to journey with Jesus do= wn the Mount of Olives and up to the City of Jerusalem. But because we know what wi= ll happen, we are perhaps more reluctant than were the first disciples to walk this difficult journey. We kn= ow that our salvation comes through the agony of a cross, and we are reluctant= to make the journey.
The cross is, if you thi= nk about it, the most horrific violation of royal protocol there ever has been. The Son of God – the one who= came in the name of the Lord – the King of kings and Lord of lords – humiliated and tortured and killed like the worst criminal. The cross is a scandal, to be sure – but a scandal with the power to heal us and to save us, if we open ourselves to the God who reached out his arms on that cross to embrace us.<= /p>
I conclude with Presbyte= rian poet Ann Weems’ reflection on the journey that lies ahead of us this week, as we walk with Jesus to Calvary:
Holy is the week . . =
.
Holy, consecrated, be=
longing
to God . . .
We move from hosannas=
to
horror
with the predictable e=
ase
of
those who know not what they do.
Our hosannas sung,
our palms waved,
let us go with passion into this we=
ek.
It is a time to curse=
fig
trees that do not yield fruit.
It is a time to clean=
se our
temples of any blasphemy.
It is a time to greet=
Jesus
as the Lord’s Anointed One,
to lavishly break our
alabaster
and pour perfume out f=
or him
without counting the cost.
It is a time for prep=
aration
. . .
The time to give than=
ks and
break bread is upon us.
The time to give than=
ks and
drink of the cup is imminent.
Eat, drink, remember:=
On [that] night of ni=
ghts,
each one must ask,
as we dip our bread in=
the
wine,
“is it I?”
And on that darkest o=
f days,
each of us must stand
beneath the tree
and watch the dying <= o:p>
if we are to be there =
when the stone is rol=
led
away.
The only road to East=
er
morning
is through the unrelen=
ting
shadows of that Friday.
Only then will the al=
leluias
be sung;
only then will the dan=
cing
begin.
[From Kneeling in Jer= usalem, p. 67]
May God grant us the cou= rage to walk where Jesus walked, unafraid, together.
Thanks be to God. Amen.