March 18, 2008

Sermon for Palm Sunday 08

TOH to Marcus Borg and John Dominick Crossan for the 2 parades thing. Also, I had a better intro while in the pulpit, but to recreate it in the text seems unnecessary - you'll get the gist of the sermon here anyway.

As you know, Cassie and I had our first Mardi Gras experience this year. We managed to fit in two parades during the weekend proceeding Ash Wednesday. Both took place within the zip code of Fairhope, both proved to be entertaining, and both resulted in the carrying home of lots of beads, but that is about all they shared in common. The first was a Friday evening event in downtown Fairhope. The streets were lined with people excited for what this always glorious event would bring. We were with Keith and Lynn, Anne, Brad, and Grace and next to a woman who was for a while the president of the society throwing this parade. The bands were stellar. The Maids rode fine horses. The dance teams were well choreographed. The floats were well constructed, lit by generators, and pulled by sleek new GMC vehicles. It was a magnificent show of what a well run society can do. And, since we sat next to this famous woman, we, namely Grace, walked home with a pick-up truck full of stuffed animals, beads, and moon pies. It was truly a top-shelf event. The other parade took place on County Road One. Affectionately referred to as the Mullet Parade, this event was very different from our first experience. There were no marching bands. The Maids rode in the back of their friends convertibles. The dance teams weren't real. The floats were trailers and boats decorated with whatever the owner had from years past. It was a great showing of what people who like to have fun can do. We didn't sit next to anyone famous, though Nigel's front yard may have made us targets, and we, again Grace mostly, left with trash bags full of stuffed animals, beads, and moon pies. It was a great time, though no one would describe it as "top shelf." We saw two fabulous parades, both celebrating the season and the culture, but both very different in their flavor.

The residents of Jerusalem shared a similar experience. That first Palm Sunday saw two very different parades entering the great city. The first, like our first, was one of great pomp. Pilate, governor of Israel, was entering Jerusalem for the Passover. He didn't come to pay any sort of homage to the Jewish Feast Day, but rather he came, as Caesar's vicar, to make sure violence did not erupt during the celebration. He would have arrived on a glorious float, full of gold and purple, symbols of royalty. He would have been surrounded by some of the most well trained soldiers in the Roman army. Their path into the city would have been well choreographed; making sure to hit all the hot spots, both good and bad, to make sure as many people as possible knew that Rome was in control and this year's Passover celebration would only be a remembrance of a freedom from oppression, not the repetition of one. The bands announcing his presence would have been large and well rehearsed and the shouts from the Romans occupying Jerusalem would have hailed Caesar as king of kings and lord of lords; the son of the god Apollo, who would bring peace to the earth. The second parade to enter the city's walls would have been very different. A small crowd of rural tourists brought with them dusty coats and broken down palm branches. They laid them along the path of a man of no great circumstance riding either a donkey or a colt or both. Either way, seeing a full grown man riding the back of said animals would have appeared awkward at best. This relatively small group of followers are shouting things too, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" Their words sound very similar to those being shouted as Pilate enters as a symbol of Caesar. They make claims of Jesus as king, as one who comes in the name of God, as one who makes all of heaven sing praise. Whether intentional by Jesus or not, his parade was in direct contrast to the parade of Pilate. Two men were entering Jerusalem, both being welcomed with shouts of acclamation and praise, but both very different in their flavor.

This morning we found ourselves smack in the middle of the second parade. Our liturgy invites us to be the palm waving, coat dropping, acclamation shouting crowd. And of all the roles this service invites us into, I think being a part of that crowd is by far the most appealing. We get it. We have seen in the face of Jesus something special. At some point over the past three or so years we have heard Jesus speak and seen him perform miracles and we have been convinced he is the Messiah. Granted this parade isn't what we thought it would be. He should arrive in Jerusalem with a well trained army. He should have by his side an army of angels ready to rid the national of Israel from the oppression of Rome. But for now, we'll walk with him, making claims of his royalty, hoping that this Passover celebration is one of new freedom. Hosanna in the highest!

There is another group of people in the streets of Jerusalem this morning. Matthew tells us they are a city in turmoil, shaken, unnerved. This second parade was not expected. The things being said about the man awkwardly upon a small animal don't add up. He is the Son of David? He comes in the name of the Lord? Yet, he comes in weakness. He is surrounded by rednecks and rural trash. He doesn't have the support of the Temple. This guy can not be the Messiah. "Who is this?" The people of Jerusalem ask? Jesus' followers respond, "This is the prophet, Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee." Our glimpse into the parade route ends there, but you can just imagine the response of Jerusalem. "Oh, Jesus, a prophet you say, from podunk in the middle of nowhere, sure, whatever you say." This group had not seen it. They hadn't heard him preach, Jesus was intentional in his avoidance of the cities. They had not seen his miracles with their own eyes. They were blind to the divinity of Jesus, they saw only a man in a dusty crowd.

There is in our baptismal covenant a set of promises. They are made by those being baptized, their God parents, their parents, and the whole congregation at each baptismal service. One of those promises is "to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourself." In making that promise, with God's help, we pledge to be a part of the palm waving crowd. The face of Jesus we see is not on the back of a colt, but rather in every person we meet. We have given our word to see the good in every human being and to focus on that good over and above all the annoying, all the hillbilly, all the arrogant, all the bad driving. This puts us in the obvious minority. Jesus' parade was relatively small compared to the whole city of Jerusalem, but it was fixed on one goal, to serve Christ in the person of Jesus, prophet from Nazareth. So too, the crowd of Jesus followers who will actively serve the Christ in others is a small group. As we enter into Holy Week, however, every Christian is once again called to live into the role of the palm waving, Jesus proclaiming crowd. This week, above all others, should be about living the way of the cross by seeking and serving Christ in all persons. It is not easy. It leads us into places that are uncomfortable. It might even cause the whole city of Foley to ask, "who are these people?" But it is our call as followers of Jesus. We walk with him to the cross not just to reap the reward of eternal life, but to live our lives as he lived his, in the service of others. The good news of Holy Week is that we get to take part in the continuous work of God setting this upside down world right side up. What a blessing. What an honor. Hosanna in the highest heaven! Amen.

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