On
That first Palm Sunday morning, according to the text, they were filled with
enthusiasm. They cheered and shouted "Hosanna!",
as the Messiah, as the descendant of King David, Jesus--the hope of Israel
In
a group, it's easy to be courageous. In a group, it's easy to defy the
conventional authority, the conventional wisdom, the powers that be. In a group
we can be loyal followers, we can be faithful disciples, we can proclaim Him as
King.
In
the beginning, that Sunday morning, they and we can be o so very enthusiastic,
we can shout out our faith, we can strew His path with our coats and palm
branches, we can sound trumpets, and wave flowers and smile indulgently at the
children who call out His name in praise. All that happened that first Palm
Sunday morning. Just as all that has happened this morning.
But
we need to be aware that by Friday, He will no longer be acclaimed by the
crowd. By Friday, this man Jesus will no longer be surrounded by loyal friends
and followers. By Friday, He will no longer be in the midst of those who love
Him. By Friday, this Jesus will be totally, utterly, terrifyingly alone.
By
Friday, He will have already been ignored, betrayed, captured, tried,
humiliated, tortured, degraded and executed. By Friday, He will be hanging on a
cross. Jesus of Nazareth, whom we call the Christ, the Messiah, the Heir of
David, the Hope of Israel, the Hope of the world, will have been deserted and
denied--not only by the fickle crowd--but by friends and followers as well.
On
Sunday morning, when we're here together, you and I can acclaim Him. But
tomorrow, or the next day, or next week--when we're no longer surrounded by the
presence of fellow believers--when we're alone--then our courage and enthusiasm
can all too easily disappear. Then,
along with Peter, you and I can all too easily deny Him--deny Hope because of
our all too human fear.
"I don't know him."
"Sometimes you have to
compromise."
"Away with him!"
"It's everyone for himself in
this world."
"Crucify him!"
"Those are beautiful ideals,
but we have to live in this world."
"I told you, I don't know the
man."
"Look out for number one!"
"Get lost, blasphemer."
"That's just the way things
are.."
"I'm telling you for the last
time, I don't know this Jesus!"
"There is no hope."
In
the end, the Hope of Israel, had to suffer and die the death of a common
criminal--the Hope of the World had to hang on a cross. In the end, it all
narrowed down to sour wine, to pain, to sweat and spittle and wailing and
crying, and the smell of his own blood falling on the mud below him. In the
end, Jesus's dream, His own hope would narrow down to a God who seems to have
forgotten Him in His misery and lonely agony.
A
total change--a radical turn of events. From palms to pain, from flowers to
blood, from cheering crowds to a lonely grave in a cold cave, from life to
death in the short space of a week.
How
often do you suppose that story has been repeated in the history of this sad
and blood-stained planet? How often has
this tale been told before? Isn't it really the story of all of humanity? Isn't
the story really part and parcel of all of the history of all of the peoples of
all of the nations of the entire world?
A
fresh beginning, good intentions, a new deal, a fair shake, a new hope is born.
And almost immediately it begins to be hemmed in. Slowly but surely, the demands of necessity,
the demands of fear and loneliness, the demands of this world begin to cage and
confine this new Hope. Then that
caged-in, hemmed-in hope begins to be whittled down, slowly but surely, by fear
and betrayal and pride and greed, by sin and lust and corruption, by jealousy
and ill-will and compromise and by still more fear. Until the original spark that began it all,
hangs alone in the wind on a cross.
That's
the nature of humanity. That's the way of history. That's the way of the world.
We all know that. Jesus knew that.
And
still, He willingly underwent it all. When the crowd shouted Hosanna on Sunday
morning, He did not shush them--even though some urged Him to do so.
He
underwent all that--when some of His followers fell asleep on Him in the midst
of the greatest trial of His life, for their sakes and ours, He handed Himself
over to those who wanted to execute Him.
He
underwent all that--knowing the conclusion of the story in advance- -knowing
that the only possible way it could end was with Him alone and dead.
He
underwent all that--and they pressed out His last drops of compassion, His last
dregs of family love, His last drops of faith and courage.
He
underwent all that--Jesus Christ, the Hope of Israel, the Messiah, the Heir of
David, the Ruler of the New Jerusalem yet to come. The Hope of the world
underwent all that. Until finally, it ended and He found Himself hanging there
waiting to die, and found Himself shouting out the words of the ancient psalm.
"Eloi, Eloi.. My God, My God, why hast
thou forsaken me?"
But
no help came-- no Divine intervention, no deus ex machina, no legions of angels
charging in to rescue Him at the last minute.
And Jesus must have known all along that it would not, could not end
that way. And so He bent His head and He died...
Hope
died. The Hope of the world. And the old way, the conventional wisdom, the
wicked way of this sad old world once more prevailed. And the onlookers must
have shaken their heads, and said cynically.
"It
just goes to show you. You can't fight city hall. You can't change the way
things are. Try it and they'll squash
you like a bug. Look what they did to him."
"It
just goes to show you. It's no good trying to reform the world. No good at all.
Better to go along with the way things are. No sense in getting your hopes up.
Look what happens to you."
"It
just goes to show you. You can't rock the boat. It just goes to show you. You can't change human nature." All the
pain and misery, all the trials and struggles, all the discrimination and
prejudice and oppression and hatred and persecution that are a part of human
life on this planet--all the suffering, all the troubles that can beset
us--they all happened to Him. All at once.
Not
diluted, not one at a time, not manageable, not handleable. But all at once--pure,
raw, unadulterated--that's how they happened to Jesus.
Trying
to bring hope into the world--He was destroyed by human fear.
Trying
to bring love into the world--He was drowned in hatred.
Trying
to bring good into the world--He was overrun by evil.
Trying
to bring peace into the world--He was overcome by violence.
Trying
to bring freedom into the world--He was ground down by oppression.
And
as His last blood was still drying on the ground, as the Sabbath began to
arrive, His last few friends hurriedly wrapped His remains in a sheet and laid
Him in a borrowed tomb.
Darkness
set in. Hope was lost. All hope seemed to be dead-- the Hope of Israel, the
Hope of the world, the Hope of humanity was lost. By the end of the day, the
only thing left of Him was a rumor. And His enemies went to Pilate and told
him, "This liar bragged that after three days he would rise from the
dead."
So
Pilate lent them some soldiers and they rolled a boulder into the mouth of the
tomb. And the world, the old order, the way things are, the establishment, the
fear peddlers, the power mongers, the spreaders of hate, those who compromise
for the sake of expediency, the corrupt rulers armed themselves against the
return of Hope.
Having
captured it and betrayed it, having tortured it and tried it, having convicted
it and executed it, they tried to bury Hope. And the heart of the Christian
faith, the center of our belief, the reason we come together this morning is
because of a single affirmation.
Their
efforts were in vain. When they tried to
bury Hope--Hope refused to die. Hope
rose up. Thanks be to God!
Sisters
and brothers. Let us never forget that hope--even in our darkest hours. Let us live lives that share the hope, by
word and deed. Let us not fear to offer to both friend and stranger, words of
encouragement, acts of compassion, hands that help. Let us each become a in our
everyday encounters a living witness for tolerance and peace and justice. Above
all, let us each show forth to this cynical world, the example of a life of
integrity that refuses to accept the conventional wisdom, believing in and
witnessing to the ability of Divine hope to transform human lives--beginning
with our own.
Let us
pray,
God of
love, for the sake of love, you sent Hope into the world.
In all
of our trials, in all of our struggles, in all of our troubles,
help us
to recall. Even in the depths of loss and despair, help us to never forget.
Hope is still in the world. Hope still dwells among us. Hope is still in you. Hosanna in the highest! Amen.
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