FACING JERUSALEM

1 Now when they drew near Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives, He sent two of His disciples; 2and He said to them, "Go into the village opposite you; and as soon as you have entered it you will find a colt tied, on which no one has sat. Loose it and bring it. 3And if anyone says to you, "Why are you doing this?' say, "The Lord has need of it,' and immediately he will send it here." 4So they went their way, and found the colt tied by the door outside on the street, and they loosed it. 5But some of those who stood there said to them, "What are you doing, loosing the colt?" 6And they spoke to them just as Jesus had commanded. So they let them go. 7Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their clothes on it, and He sat on it. 8And many spread their clothes on the road, and others cut down leafy branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9Then those who went before and those who followed cried out, saying:

        "Hosanna!         "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD!'         10Blessed is the kingdom of our father David         That comes in the name of the Lord!         Hosanna in the highest!" 11And Jesus went into Jerusalem and into the temple. So when He had looked around at all things, as the hour was already late, He went out to Bethany with the twelve.—Mark 11:1-11

Once again we come to this scene of celebration, as we arrive at another Palm Sunday. As we come once more to this event, I want to go back and emphasize what has been in Jesus’ thinking as He approaches Jerusalem. From the time of the Transfiguration, Jesus has told His disciples, “I am going to Jerusalem to die.” He has predicted His death and the manner of it very clearly, and has set His course to go there. The theme is most prominent in Luke’s gospel, where it says He “set His face like flint to go to Jerusalem.” From that point, it has been a steady trip south, with intervening miracles and other events occurring in between during the journey.

But now, His trip takes on a different tone, and His focus seems to be interrupted. Basically, you could say that His steadfast journey to the cross is interrupted by human viewpoint. In Israel, names always had meanings, and the name “Jesus” is no different. It is the Greek equivalent for the Hebrew name “Joshua,” and literally means, “God saves.” Compare that with the meaning of the word the crowd shouts on this day, “Hosanna,” meaning “Save us now.” In other

words, if you look at the meaning of this word they shout, and perhaps even if you look at the intent of their thoughts this day, you will see expectations that Jesus is coming here as a liberator who will free them from Roman oppression and domination. And I have noticed: DISILLUSIONMENT AND DISAPPOINTMENT WITH GOD ALWAYS SEEM TO COME AT THIS VERY POINT—the point where God’s plans interfere with, or fail to connect with, our expectations.

With this crowd on that Palm Sunday, determining their expectations is simple. We want a king to free us from Roman rule; with this Palm Sunday procession into town, Jesus pretty much looks like the one; the next day, as Jesus clears the Temple of the moneychangers, He still looks like the one; the next day, sitting in the Temple teaching, and confounding all the trick questions of the scribes, He still very much looks like the one. But on Wednesday, which has been called the “day of silence,” because there is no indication of what Jesus did on that day, we have no way of knowing how much He still looked like the “right” kind of Messiah. And on Thursday, when Jesus got arrested, He probably began to look like less and less of a Messiah to them. All of a sudden, He doesn’t look the same at all in their eyes, and by the end of the week, they have gone from “Praise Him” to “Crucify Him.”

I believe—and much more than we like to admit it—we are just like they were. I can remember when I used to think I was a unique individual. Do you remember the story Jesus told of two brothers who were asked by their Father to go work in the vineyard? The first of these brothers replied, “Yes, I will,” but then later he did not go. The second replied, “No, I won’t,” but later repented and went. I used to think that because I had experienced that parable from both sides He describes, that somehow that was a distinction most people did not enjoy. But I have come to understand that I am not different in that regard at all, because most of us are exactly like that. That is, one day we are more than able and willing to follow Him anywhere; the next day, we’d just as soon, like Pilate, wash our hands of Him and have nothing to with Him. But mostly, we just like to keep Him at arm’s length, and let Him near to us only at our choosing.

Something else I used to think: I always thought of Palm Sunday in the terms I mentioned a bit earlier, as a sort of “interruption” of the direction of things. Jesus predicted His death just before the trip up the Mount of Transfiguration; He has repeated the prediction at least twice since that time; He lectures His disciples along the way about their ambitions, teaching them the path of true greatness. Then, just before His final journey up another hill called Golgotha, where He faces suffering and death—there comes this joyful celebration and a procession fit for a King.

This celebration came as a bit of an interruption for me this year. During Lent season this year in our worship, I have tried to maintain a

focus on the suffering of Christ. Each week there has been something in the text and in the message to point to His suffering. But when I got to the Palm Sunday celebration, I wondered how that focus would be maintained with such a joyous interruption.

But I soon realized—nothing has changed. His purpose is still the cross. And far from being an interruption, this procession is one of a series of events calculated to bring about that path to the cross. Think about it: (1) A procession this large can’t help but draw attention. In John’s gospel, Jesus’ detractors are moaning, “The whole world has gone after Him.” (2) The next day He goes to the outer court of the Temple with a whip and scatters the money-changers, chasing them from the Temple. (3) The following day, to irritate the priests and Sadducees even further, He sets Himself up on their turf to teach the people—and in the process manages to confound all of the priests’ and scribes’ trick questions. So what else do you suppose He thought they would do now but make Him a marked man?

I think He knew EXACTLY what He was doing, from the time He revealed the cross as His purpose and set His face and headed straight for it. He deliberately chose actions calculated to draw the attention and the anger of the most powerful men in Jerusalem. WHEN FACED WITH HIS JERUSALEM, HE TOOK IT HEAD-ON: I THINK THAT SAYS A LOT TO US ABOUT FACING OUR OWN PERSONAL JERUSALEM.

I’m sure you’ve all been following the news reports this week. It appears that except for some pockets of resistance still left in Iraq, the war is as good as over. I don’t know what anyone else came away with from this, but I came away with a new appreciation for our president. I have to admit—even though I was completely supportive at first—I began to have serious doubts when the United Nations and most of our NATO allies backed off, and George told them “It doesn’t matter, we’ll go in alone if we have to.” It was the first serious attention I ever gave to this political war everybody seems to have to fight in the public eye these days.

It is only in hindsight that we have found out about the torture chambers and electro-shock treatments conducted on Iraqi political prisoners; the large numbers of people put to death by Hussein; the fear of the people, living under death threats aimed at them or their family members. No wonder Saddam eventually had his own Jerusalem to face—or should we say his Baghdad? I really believe that even if I had been totally opposed to this war, with the things that have come to light recently, I would still have come out of this past week with an admiration of President Bush’s courage of his convictions.

But now let me ask each of you today—what is your own personal Jerusalem? What is the one issue you face in your own life this day that demands that “fight or flight” response? I can imagine all sorts of things coming to mind:

--Finances--AIDS epidemic, or now the SARS virus--Aging, and a whole new set of issues to deal with--Illness, whether yours, or a loved one--Death of a loved one--Anxiety over the world situation, and/or possible terrorist retaliations.Whatever that issue is to each individual, I think most of us know what our Jerusalem is. And I also think most of have some AVOIDANCE issues in relation to how we respond to it.

BUT KNOW THIS: Whatever you face, whatever your fears or your prospects of the outcome—GOD IS STILL WITH US! He has not abandoned or forsaken you; He is the one who has brought you to this moment; and He is to be trusted to walk through this moment with you. Let that assurance give you the confidence to face your personal Jerusalem unafraid. “For if God be with us, the can be against us?”

SOURCES CONSULTED:

Fred R. Anderson, “High Hopes but Low Expectations,” sermon preached at Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, New York City, N.Y., 4/16/2000.

John C. Bush, “Finicky Faith,” sermon preached at Grace Presbyterian Church, Madison, Alabama, 4/16/2000.

Harry Emerson Fosdick, “An Unavoidable Choice Faces Our Jerusalem Too,” On Being Fit to Live With, London: SCM Press, 1947, p. 203.