“Cosmic
Tremors”
Matthew
21:1-17
Our
spiritual journey through this season of Lent is almost at the end. We have taken some important steps along the
way. We have asked the hard questions
about ourselves, we have been honest about who we are, and we have examined the
quality of our faithfulness. My hope and
prayer is that you have been stretched and challenged on this journey as I have
been. I do believe that when we are
stretched and challenged and when we wrestle with the hard stuff, then true
growth will happen. But we are not at
the end of our spiritual journey yet.
The most important week of Lent lies before us. This Sunday is the beginning of Holy Week,
the most important week of the Christian year and of the Christian faith.
You may have wondered why today is Palm/Passion Sunday and not
just Palm Sunday as we are used to calling it.
Maybe you’re thinking I just couldn’t make up my mind on which to call
it, so I put both. No, this Sunday is
called Palm/Passion Sunday, but it does sound strange
to call it both. There is almost a
contradiction to it, something confusing about it, leaving us scratching our
head wondering just how we are supposed to feel about this Sunday.
When I
first started hearing Palm Sunday being called Palm/Passion Sunday, it didn’t
sit so well with me. I remember being a
boy and walking down the aisle of the church with all the other children
carrying and waving palm branches as the congregation sang “All Glory, Laud,
and Honor.” This was always a day of
celebration, and it still is, but to suddenly throw in the word Passion made me
feel awkward and uncomfortable. Like
you, I eagerly await Easter Sunday, and I know that I
too have a tendency to take one giant step over this week in anticipation of the
glorious good news of the Resurrection, but we need to be cautious about taking
that giant step. The danger for us is to
avoid the tension of this week and bypass the events of this week in favor of
the celebration of today and next Sunday.
We must be cautious about holding onto the triumphant Jesus of today and
the glorified Jesus of Easter, and staying away from the suffering Jesus of
Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.
And yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we know that is exactly
our first inclination, because we don’t like tension or anything awkward and
uncomfortable, or anything involving suffering.
It is much easier for us and safer for us to remain where it is most
comfortable, in that place which is less threatening, less revealing, less self-exposing. We would much rather hold on to the Jesus who
arrives as king, than the Jesus who is betrayed and arrested. We would much rather hold on to the Jesus who
has the power to control an untamed animal, than the Jesus who is beaten,
flogged, and spat upon. But deep down,
we know that this is not the way of discipleship. We know that in avoiding the events of Holy
week, we are only avoiding the truth about ourselves, only avoiding the truth
about our own brokenness and sinfulness, only avoiding our own culpability in
the cross of Jesus Christ, and in doing so, we end up missing the fuller
message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
This is why we call Palm Sunday also Passion Sunday, because it is
supposed to be awkward and uncomfortable.
It’s supposed to keep us off balance as we both celebrate the arrival of
Jesus into Jerusalem and the waving of palm branches, but at the same time we
are also to remember that this week is about the Passion of Jesus Christ. Passion comes from the Latin word “pati” meaning “to suffer.”
We cannot read this story of Jesus’ entry into
For Matthew, as with all the gospel writers, there is supposed to
be tension in it this event of Jesus’ triumphal entry. There is supposed to be something unsettling
about, something almost foreboding about it.
For Matthew, this story is more than just about Jesus riding into
Jerusalem, this story is about what is coming, about the coming climax of the
gospel, about the coming storm in the horizon.
Do you remember those spring days when you used to play outside with
your friends from sunup to sundown? I
remember going to my friend’s house down the street and play homerun derby in
his back yard for hours. We would play
to the point when we could not even see the ball well enough to bat let alone
trying to catch it out in the outfield.
Those were the days weren’t they?
We would shout out and hoot and holler.
Everything was like it was supposed to be. Everything was right just like we wanted it
to be, just like we expected it to be. But every once in a while, we never made it to sundown. Every once in a while, we would notice a
darkening of the horizon, and we would hear the rumbling of thunder off in the
distance. Soon the afternoon sky would
turn dark, and the hushed rumbling of the coming storm in the distance would
turn into tremors we could feel with under our feet from the sound waves of the
thunder shaking the ground we stood on.
The story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into
Amidst all the commotion and
celebration, all the shouting and hoot and hollering, there is a cosmic tremor
shaking the ground upon which the city stood.
Of course, the people do not even realize what is going on. They are caught up in the excitement of the
event. Jesus has come to meet their
expectations. He has come to deliver
them from the hands of the Roman powers.
He has come as the warrior king to wage war against the rulers and emperors. The multitude of people wanted nothing more
than the Messiah of God to come and lead a military uprising and liberate the
city. In the thrill of victory they
cheered Jesus. This is the day that they
had long awaited, a day that they had long dreamed of. Everything would be right again. Everything would be how it is supposed to
be.
But then Jesus goes into the temple and starts shaking things
up. Suddenly, the cheering stops. The crowd falls silent. Expectations are shattered. Soon they will turn on Jesus, one of his own
will betray him, and his disciples will flee into the night leaving him
alone. The crowd in their euphoria and
celebration do not even notice the rumblings from the cosmic tremors under
their feet. They don’t even notice that
there is something earthshaking that is about to happen. They don’t even notice the coming storm that
is darkening the horizon, the coming storm that will soon tear the curtain in
the temple in two and turn day into night and cause the earth to shake and
rocks to split. They don’t even notice
the darkening storm over a hill in the horizon, over a hill outside the walls
of a city, a hill called
Brothers and sisters, Jesus is the King of kings and Lord of
lords, not because he rode into Jerusalem to wage war on the Roman Empire, but
because he willingly humbled himself to the point of death – even death on the
cross, as the atoning sacrifice for the forgiveness of sins, perfectly
revealing the love God has for the world.
This is what this Holy Week is about.
It’s about what happens when the sins of the world comes crashing down
upon Jesus’ shoulders. It’s about the
depths of human pain that Jesus suffered on our behalf, so that we may be set
free from the bondage of sin and death.
This week is about Jesus’ passion.
Holy Week is more than just a reliving of the past; it is a proclamation
and witness of creation itself of the coming of the new age of God’s reign in
Jesus Christ of which the whole of creation is in waiting. In the events of this week, we experience
more than just what God has done and will do for us, we also experience what
God has done and will do for all of creation.
This week is about God in Jesus Christ righting of all that is wrong,
reconciling of all that is estranged, and redeeming all that is broken.
On this Passion/Palm Sunday, let us
rejoice in the triumphal arrival of the humble king who comes in peace. But let us also be mindful that this week is
also about all of our own miss-placed expectations and miss-guided hopes about
the kind of Jesus we want Jesus to be.
Let us celebrate because God in Jesus Christ deserves our worship and
praise, but let us also pay attention to the cosmic tremors under our feet and
be willing to live in the tension of knowing what is to come. And when the darkness of night comes, and the
sounds of betrayal is in the air, let us join together at the Lord’s table,
sharing in the bread of life and the cup of salvation, and let us come together
at the foot of the cross, for there is the only place where we will find the
glory of God’s saving grace revealed, and the only path that will lead us to
the dawn of the new day, the day of the resurrection. Amen.