Palm Sunday — Andy James

A King for the Ages

March 29, 2015 By Andy James

a sermon on Mark 15:1-39 for Palm & Passion Sunday
preached on March 29, 2015, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

As they shouted their “Hosannas,” the people were clearly ready for a king for the ages, for someone to come and make everything different. They wanted someone to cast off the chains of oppressive Roman rule, to cut off the aggressive and corrupt tax system, to free them to make their own decisions about life in their beloved holy city. They sought a king to stand in the line of their beloved ancestor David, to have the good of the people in mind at every turn, to bring the temple and the city out of the shadows of the empire and back to its former glory. They longed for someone to bring them together again, to set up a new and glorious age of home rule, to make a way for the scattered people of Israel to be one once more.

The crowds gathered expecting a king for the ages, but the echoes of their “Hosannas” had barely died down before Jesus began to shatter their expectations. He overturned tables in the temple and drove out those who were selling things there. He repeatedly questioned the authority of the religious leaders who focused on the letter of the law while missing its spirit. He taught that love of God and love of neighbor stand far above duty to any earthly kingdom. And when he was confronted by the authorities of the day and charged with upsetting the order of things, he shattered their expectations completely by going to his death when he could have denied it and saved his own life.

With each passing day, Jesus turned their expectations of a king for the ages upside down again and again. By time Friday rolled around, with their expectations of a king for the ages completely shattered, the crowd’s exaltation of this one coming to save turned to new shouts of “Crucify him!” And by the end of that gruesome day, this king for the ages lay dead, convicted on trumped-up charges, sent to his death on the shouts of a blood-hungry crowd, executed by the most cruel means imaginable, all expectations of a king for the ages abandoned forever on that forlorn hill.

Our expectations of Jesus are just as easily shattered. We look to him to give us easy answers that require little further consideration—and instead receive hard truths that leave us pondering how to respond. We turn to him expecting a magic solution to our problems—only to find that the fixes we expected were not what he intends. We think of Jesus as “ours,” as one who belongs to us and so fits in a little box of our own design and construction—while missing the point that we cannot define him at all, let alone try to limit who he is or how he works in our world. And we figure that more careful adherence to his standards will set our world on a better course—while missing the core understandings of justice, peace, and transformation that stand at the center of his words and actions.

The events of this Holy Week remind us that our expectations of Jesus do not define him as king for the ages—instead, he shows us a new and different way of living in the world as he redefines what it means to be king altogether. In Mark’s telling of this story, we hear Jesus repeatedly named as “King of the Jews” or “Messiah”—even though we know that that he will never be the kind of king recognized by his royal robes or bejeweled scepter. This king casts off the chains of Roman oppression not by overturning the government of the day that promised the “peace of Rome” through military power but by instituting a kingdom of peace through submission to the powers of the world that mock his kingdom altogether. This king suffers violence beyond imagination without ever succumbing to it, opening a way beyond domination and bloodshed that still guides us today. And this king brings us hope for something more, for just when we think that all is lost in his death, we learn that God has more in store for him and for us.

Jesus is king for the ages not because the crowds shout “Hosanna” upon his arrival or because they see one who will overturn the political and religious rulers of the day. Instead, he is king for the ages because he shatters every human expectation for a king and gives us a new pattern for life in our world that begins when he sets aside all our fear of death and its minions by opening the way to new life.

So as we journey through this Holy Week, as the echoes of our “Hosannas” quickly fade, as Jesus’ path of self-giving service and love opens before us, as we remember the last meal he shared with his disciples, as we retrace his footsteps through trial, execution, and death, may we set aside our expectations of glory and proclaim this king for the ages in all our living so that we can experience all the more the gift of this week and share it with joy and hope as the pathway through death to resurrection is opened for all. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Reflections on Palms and Passion

April 13, 2014 By Andy James

This Sunday’s sermon is a bit different, as it is broken into two related but distinct parts that address the two different foci of this day, Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem and his procession toward death just days later.

A Royal Procession

a reflection on Matthew 21:1-11

Palm Sunday just doesn’t feel right without a procession: palm branches waved by a joyful congregation, children leading the way into the church, and a familiar hymn marking the day and the way as we remember Jesus’ journey from the countryside into the city. This strange reenactment of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is quite likely the closest any of us will ever get to a royal procession.

Our observance is always marked with this grand and glorious language of kingship, seemingly celebrating the arrival of a new king, but this is quite unlike any other royal procession. Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem takes every element of a royal procession and turns it upside down. Every symbol that is supposed to make the ruler have proper status and position is shifted entirely. The royal carriage or white horse is replaced with a simple donkey and colt. The royal guards and advance crew that precede every king are replaced with a couple disciples dispatched to borrow the donkey and colt from an unsuspecting owner. The beautiful fabrics that would celebrate the arrival of most royalty are nowhere to be found, so some cloaks and tree branches have to do. And even the crowd that gathered wasn’t prepared to welcome a king, so they too offer their cloaks and start cutting branches off the trees beside the road to prepare the way for this strange man from the countryside to enter the city.

As much as we might try to make the story of Palm Sunday seem like so many other royal processions, as much as we might try to put Jesus into the role of a traditional and mighty king, everything about this day and this man insists that we look at it differently. This Jesus is no ordinary king. He entered Jerusalem prepared to do battle not by wielding a mighty army and strong weapons but by offering a proclamation of new life. He didn’t offer a quick fix through great displays of power but through the transformational wonder of justice and peace. And he invited everyone who dared to step into this new and different kingdom, where pain and war are no more, where iniquity is pardoned, where liberation is real and all things are made new.

Did the crowd know all this? Did they take it seriously? Had they heard Jesus’ words for what they were—a real and direct challenge to the patterns of the status quo, true “fighting words” against the powers of religion and politics of the day, the proclamation of a different kind of king who sought not power for himself or privilege for a few but new life for all? Did they really understand that their cries of “Hosanna!” were for one who would confront their realities and drive them to a new and different way?

Better yet, do we know all this? Are we prepared to set aside our preference for ourselves and show others the way to new life? Are we prepared to give up something of what we have so that others also might live in hope? Are we prepared to put down the weapons of war and take up the path of peace? Are we prepared to join this kind of royal procession and turn the world upside down? May God give us the strength to commit ourselves to this new and different path, not just on this Palm Sunday but each and every day as we walk this holy road with Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Not Just Any Other King

a reflection on Matthew 27:11-54

There’s something truly incredible about this story. It is of course the story that stands at the center of the Christian gospel message, that a man lived, died, and rose again to show us the depth and breadth of God’s love. But when you get down to it, you have to admit that there is something peculiar about it all. Even setting aside the reasonable questions about why this is necessary and why God might choose to do this at all, it’s very much fair to wonder why would God use a man from a small town in the backwaters of the Roman empire to bring about salvation for the whole world. Even more strangely, why would God work in and through a man who was condemned and executed by one of the most powerful empires in the history of the world? It’s nothing short of scandalous that God would choose to make this story the one that matters for us—but we are ultimately confronted with two millennia of witnesses who have made this exact claim, who have been convinced by Jesus’ life, ministry, death, resurrection, ascension, and continuing presence that this man embodied the fullness of the sign that was so mockingly hung on the cross: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.”

And ultimately all these have proclaimed that this title means that he was not just any other king—by extension, these claim, as King of the Jews, Jesus brought a new and different way of life into the world, inaugurating a different kind of kingdom that fit his humble roots, living out the fullness of his teaching of justice, peace, and new life, showing his care and concern for all people and especially the poor and outcast, insisting that there is a different and better way of life and living for all people, even us, and ultimately triumphing over any and all evil that might try to get in his way.

Just as the story of the royal processional on that first Palm Sunday insists that we look at Jesus differently, the death of Jesus demands that we take a new and careful look at our world and Jesus’ place in it. It insists that we set aside our attempts to make Jesus look just like us, to fit him perfectly into the boxes we try to make for him, to explain his presence and his meaning with simple and seemingly timeless words and metaphors, to limit his gift of grace, mercy, and peace to those whom we might like to have share it, to demand that everyone agree on one way of understanding what he brings to our lives and our world. The execution of Jesus of Nazareth at the hands of the religious and political authorities of first-century Palestine insists that God is working beyond all our human assumptions to do something new and different and radical in our world, to shatter our expectations of glorious salvation through power, privilege, and prestige, to overturn the systems that promote injustice and hurt, to be present with us in the midst of our darkest hours just as God was present in the horrific and unjust death of Jesus. And the crucifixion of Christ insists that our relationship with God is different now, that we are forever changed as individuals and as a community because God has experienced the fullness of human life, including death itself, and overcome it all, that we will ultimately be judged by none other than our redeemer himself, and that nothing in life or in death, in heaven or on earth, can separate us from the fullness of God’s love in Jesus Christ our Lord.

So as we make this journey of Holy Week, as we relive again this story of the passion, death, and resurrection of our Living Lord, may Jesus be more than any other king to us—may we welcome his reign of peace and justice and new life as it takes hold around us in the most unexpected ways and we join in making it real each and every day until he comes again to make all things new. Lord, come quickly! Amen.

Two Parades

March 24, 2013 By Andy James

a sermon on Luke 19:29-40; Luke 23:26-27, 32-38, 44-49 for Palm and Passion Sunday
preached on March 24, 2013, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

It all seemed very impromptu—a borrowed colt, some cloaks tossed along the road, disciples from the countryside converging on the big city as the main cheering section—but it was all quite a welcome for Jesus on his first recorded trip to Jerusalem as an adult. Whether it had been planned for months or organized on the spur of the moment, the signals were still clear on that Sunday just outside Jerusalem’s gate. Someone important was coming to town. Something big was happening here, and everyone needed to pay attention!

Organized or unorganized, planned or unplanned, it was quite a parade—while the balloons of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day certainly are far more spectacular, the fancy apparel of next Sunday’s Easter Parade down Fifth Avenue is far more fashionable, and the “popemobile” is the preferred mode of transit for religious figures these days, this parade that started out Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem was one of the most notable in all history, so much so that it gets acted out in churches large and small once a year! But even the simple trappings that marked this parade had deep and great meaning. When the people cried out, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” they welcomed a ruler not on a great white stallion but on a young colt. When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, he brought with him not a mighty army but a ragtag band of disciples who could barely make up their mind about how to organize themselves, let alone scheme to topple the great power of Rome. And the cloaks that covered the road to mark a pathway for the new king belonged not to the privileged and powerful but to the poor.

Just a few days later came a very different parade. That joyful crowd that had greeted Jesus upon his arrival in the city was transformed into an angry mob, crying out for his execution. The simple colt that carried him on the journey was replaced with an innocent bystander, a visitor from out of town, who was forced to carry the cross. And the cloaks that had once been tossed on the road to pave a highway for a king became Jesus’ own clothes, divided by lot among his executioners.

Things surely can change in just five days! It was no surprise, really. Over the course of this week, Jesus had managed to get under nearly everyone’s skin. This country boy came to the city and started calling out all the things that he thought weren’t right. This Jesus didn’t properly respect the religious leaders and civil authorities, and his strong words condemning all of them needed to be spoken behind closed doors, not out in public. He threatened the livelihood of a lot of people who made their living on a particular way of thinking about and living out Judaism that had taken hold in that day and age. Even his most trusted disciples seemed to have had enough of his teachings and denied having anything to do with him.

While that first parade had embodied the people’s great hopes of a Messiah who would transform the relationship between God and the people, this second parade made it clear that the people didn’t have a clue what this would really look like. They couldn’t imagine how a nonviolent revolt would actually change things. They couldn’t even dream about how a profound teacher and healer would show power in new and different and transformative ways. They couldn’t embrace the challenge of repentance and new life that Jesus had offered them because it would require them to clean house and make room for something new. Someone like Jesus just didn’t fit in their world—someone who gave up a simple life as a carpenter to take up a new and more hopeful way, someone who was willing to endure the criticism of his family and be shamed in his hometown to teach some fishermen, a tax collector or two, and some other nobodies about what God was doing in the world, someone who kept faithfully pushing and challenging and longing and praying and working for a new way.

Amazingly, though, even amidst all this opposition and confusion, Jesus didn’t give up on all that he had fought for. Even if his first parade showed how much people just didn’t understand what he was up to, even if the second became a gruesome procession to his execution and burial, these two parades embodied everything that Jesus stood for in his life and ministry. In them he made it clear that his way of life was not about holding tight to the old ways but about setting something aside to gain something new. In these two parades he made it clear that his brand of power was not about exploiting anyone or anything but about seeking the fullness of life for everyone. And in these parades he made it clear that he intended to die exactly like he had lived, keeping the focus not on himself but on God’s presence in his life and even in his death.

And so in these two parades, Jesus lived out this new understanding of power for everyone to see. Even after his faithfulness had been honored and celebrated as he entered Jerusalem, he gave up his power and chose the cross. Even after he had received everything that he had longed for, his life for others became so clear and deep and real that he gave up everything. And even after God had given him honor and glory in his life among us, Jesus let go of it all so that he could experience the full depth of our humanity—even death—and transform it into new life.

And so as we mark this week of two parades—a parade of simple celebration upon the arrival of a humble teacher into the holy city and a procession unto death and execution at the hands of the powers of the world and people like us, even us—may God give us the strength to give up our power as Jesus did, to let go of the life we have known in hopes of finding something new, and to make room for the great transformation that awaits us by nothing less than this great power revealed in weakness and shown in Jesus Christ our Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.