The Gift of Hopelessness - Palm Sunday
Author: Pastor Scott Schul
March 24, 2024
When the week began, Jesus of
Nazareth rode into Jerusalem like a man ready to receive a coronation. Instead, by Friday, he would receive only a
crown of thorns.
When the week began, Jesus entered
Jerusalem like royalty, riding a colt – the foal of a donkey - just as had been
prophesied 500 years before. But by
Friday, he would be hanging by nails from a wooden cross.
When the week began, the adoring
crowd would have led us to believe that Jesus of Nazareth would soon be a
king. Instead, by Friday, he would be a
corpse.
Friends, there are many churches
today that, instead of a sermon, will simply read the passion narrative. I understand why. The very real and practical concern is that
people will come to today’s triumphant parade and skip the messiness of
bitter betrayal that will happen Thursday at the Last Supper, and they’ll avoid
the ugliness of a brutal crucifixion on Good Friday as the life drains away
from Jesus. By the time Easter Sunday
comes, it will be just another celebration, with no blood. No pain. No sacrifice.
But you won’t skip those services,
will you? After all, no longer must
illness, travel, or even night driving keep you from walking with Jesus all
throughout this week, because Maundy Thursday and Good Friday worship will be
live-streamed. As your pastor, I urge you
to commit to these Holy Week worship liturgies, because they contain something
special and profound that will heal and transform your heart.
Best of all, if we can hold off on
considering the stories of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday until later in the
week, then we have the blessing of pausing here today at Palm Sunday – and not
rush past it – so that we can consider what gifts this very unique and
meaningful part of Jesus’s story reveals about him, and about us. This Palm Sunday, there’s one particular gift
from Jesus that I most want you to contemplate, and that is the gift
of hopelessness.1
Wait… How is hopelessness a gift? Well, stick with me and I’ll explain. Consider first that crowd in Jerusalem on the original Palm Sunday. Why were they so excited to see Jesus? It wasn’t just Jesus himself that caused such
electricity in the air. It was all the
circumstances that surrounded his entry. He was riding on a colt that had never been ridden, because only such a
colt would be worthy of a true king. Moreover,
as one of our resident vets has observed, riding an unbroken colt required a
king’s treasury of strength, courage, and skill, and taming a wild beast like
that even hinted at the possession of divine power.2 Then there were all the cloaks Jesus’s
followers heaped upon the colt. It was
as if they were building up a virtual throne of fabric for him.
For the people there that day, the
signals were unmistakable. This was a king – the long-promised Messiah. It was straight out of prophecy – the Book of
Zechariah to be precise. And so with an
event so rooted in scripture, the people themselves responded with words of scripture – words from Psalm 118 that we heard today. “Hosanna!” It’s the Hebrew word for “save us!” These are words fit only for a king. And then, in actions that also carry the echo of Psalm 118, they spread
their cloaks and leafy branches on the road, to make a highway suited to a true
king – the one they believed would in fact save them.
After all, these people and their
ancestors had endured one horrific hardship after another over the
centuries. Enslavement to the
Egyptians. Destruction by the Assyrians. Conquest and exile at the hands of the
Babylonians. And now they were occupied
and under the iron grip of the latest bully on the block – the mighty and
seemingly invincible Roman Empire. If ever a people needed to be saved, it was this people.
Notice what Jesus did in
response. Did he try to talk them out of
the idea that he’s a king? No. Did he command them to be quiet and tell no
one what they’d seen, as he did so many other times in Mark’s Gospel? No. He
simply entered Jerusalem, went to the temple, and then met with his inner
circle of disciples. He did nothing to
dispel the notion that he was the one who would take up the sword, militarily
defeat Israel’s enemies, and, like a new David, usher in an era of peace,
prosperity, and power.
But as the week would unfold, Jesus
wouldn’t give them the gift of a military victory or swords covered in Roman
blood. He would give that adoring crowd
the gift of hopelessness, a gift that would culminate in his humiliating
death on a cross. But why? Jesus had the power to raise an army of men
and angels. Jesus had the power to
defeat occupying armies, topple corrupt officials, and seize the reigns of
power. Isn’t that what the people
reasonably expected when they shouted “Hosanna!” at the man from Nazareth? And isn’t that what the people most needed?
Jesus knew that earthly kings and
kingdoms come and go, like ashes in the wind. The Egyptians were eventually overcome, the Assyrians and the
Babylonians were eventually defeated, and one day the Roman Empire would fall
as spectacularly as it once rose. The
people needed to lose their faith in worldly power as the solution to their
problems. They needed to stop pinning
their hopes to yet another worldly emperor and instead pledge their hearts to a
heavenly savior. And so Jesus willingly
walked to the cross so he could give them the gift of hopelessness.
You see, he knew the people would
only embrace true salvation in him once
they lost all hope in the old solutions that centered on power and
prestige. They had to drop from their
white-knuckled hands all their swords and all their plans for human domination
so that finally, with empty hands and even emptier hearts, they could be filled
with Christ, who in his moment of supreme weakness on the cross would conquer
every terror that sought to manipulate, poison, and destroy his beloved people. In his victory over death and sin, Jesus
would show them that the power of his love and his empty tomb surpassed any
power an earthly king could ever muster. But before they could be filled with his grace, they had to be emptied
of hope in the worldly solutions
which were no solution at all.
Here in 2024, the forces that
dominate us are different than the ones that wielded worldly power two
millennia ago, but they are no less daunting. As the news broadcasts an unending litany of woe, we become more divided
as people, even as our lives become more scattered, chaotic, embattled, and fear-filled. Instinctively we grasp for the tired old
worldly solutions. Maybe a new leader, a
new war, a new philosophy, or a new church will solve our problems. Maybe if we just work harder, buy more
things, make more money, or get a new spouse everything’ll be fine. But pinning our hopes to those worldly
solutions just digs us into a deeper hole.
Yet at the rock bottom of that
hole, we finally find God’s gift – the gift of hopelessness – that
enables us to exit the worldly parade of the pursuit of power and prestige and
turn at last to Jesus Christ. Friends,
as we step into Holy Week, Jesus is inviting us into the paradox of the cross,
and of his eternal truth that in our weakness, we will be lifted by his
strength. As in today’s Gospel, we
begin the week with a triumphant parade. But thanks be to God, a cross awaits us. Dear Jesus, give us the gift of hopelessness so we can cling only to you. Hosanna. Save us. Amen.
Sermon
Text: Mark 11:1-11; Psalm 118:25-26
1 When they
were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives,
[Jesus] sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, “Go
into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find
tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs
it and will send it back here immediately.’” 4 They went away
and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying
it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you
doing, untying the colt?” 6 They told them what Jesus had
said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought
the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches
that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead
and those who followed were shouting,
“Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes
in the name of the Lord!
10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of
our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had
looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany
with the twelve.
Copyright Rev. Scott E. Schul, 2024 All rights reserved. May not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
Citations:
1 For
the idea of hopelessness as a gift I’m indebted to Archimandrite Aimilianos of
Simonopetra in his book Psalms and
the Life of Faith © 2015 Indiktos, Athens, pp. 320-321.
2 Many
thanks to Dr. Erin Luley Hartzler for these observations.
BACK