Jesus Is Lord

A Sermon for Palm Sunday and Beyond

(Note: Sermons can be heard in audio format at https://millersburgmennonite.org/worship/sermon-audio/)

Scripture: Mark 11:1-11

Introduction

Personally, I am coming out of a pretty difficult time. Like Jacob, I have spent many a sleepless night wrestling with God. Like Elijah, I have hidden in a cave fearing the pounding tumult of the world outside. Like Job, in the midst of loss, I have wondered if what I lost could ever be replaced, let alone given back in abundance. Like Peter, I have wondered if I still have the faith to step out of the boat into the unknown depths of Christ’s invitation. Like Thomas, I have doubted that Jesus suffered and that I must too if I am to call Jesus, Lord.

And so in the midst of this, I went away to the wilderness, well, Pymatuning State Park, which in the off-season felt a lot like a wilderness. I did not go alone. I took our dog Nina with me. We went on walks. Nina played in the water. We hung out in the pet (and pastor) friendly cabin Rachelle booked for us. I fished (I did not catch anything, that’s why they call it fishing, not catching). We visited a few places on the way there and back, like Dr. Frankenstein’s grave, but that story is for another time.

But mostly, I listened. I had told Rachelle before we left that I needed some answers from God. That may sound demanding, but I do believe God will answer us if we ask. We need to simply be open to answers that we may not expect or wish to hear. So I was hoping that I had put myself in a place, both inwardly and outwardly, where I could better hear God.

Perhaps you are someone who hears God speaking to you in a clear voice. Often, for me, there is a tug or a pull that leads me in the right direction. Now while I am still processing my time away, I do feel like God did respond to my cry in some pretty clear ways.

I believe I heard two distinct things from God.

First, God said, with all of the things you love to do and enjoy, Keith, you are a pastor. I have called you. The church has called you. And not only that, Keith, but you are my pastor. In other words, I have called you to my work. This is my ministry, it is not yours.

Second, related to the first “answer” I heard was, Jesus is Lord. Which caused me to reflect on the question, Is Jesus Lord over my own life?

Again, I am still trying to articulate what these responses mean and how they will impact my choices and decisions moving forward. But it seems fitting that my wrestling with God’s sovereignty over my own life is a theme present here on Palm Sunday and in our scripture passage this morning.

What kind of king, or Lord, is Jesus? And what will be our response – loud hosannas, shouts of rejection, or simply indifference?

Let us pray,
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our Rock, and our Redeemer. Amen

Homily

Our scripture begins with Jesus entering Jerusalem during Passover Week on what will be the culmination of his earthly ministry. We could say this is Scene 1 of the final act of the Passion of Jesus.

As first described by a blind man, Bartimaeus, who shouts, “Son of David…,” Jesus enters Jerusalem as a king in the lineage of the first royal family of Judaism, that of King David. He is greeted with shouts of Hosanna! a word that combines praising God with a prayer that God will save God’s people. It is a shout of royal welcome. People don’t put their robes on the ground for just anyone, they do so for a king. People don’t wave (motion) palm fronds, stalks, or branches in the air for just anyone, they do so for a king. The people are saying, Welcome, Jesus, Son of David, King of the Jews.

But what a strange king this King Jesus is. His majestic war steed is, well, a donkey colt, which his disciples have to borrow. What king rides on a donkey, let alone a colt? His red carpet? A bunch of clothes borrowed from the people around him. The weapons of his followers? Branches borrowed from the fields and trees nearby that they wave in the air like weird swords. The entrance is rather comical if you think about it as if our king of the twisted crown is more of a jester than a king.

Which brings me to my first point.

This world is temporal. Jesus said, foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head. The trappings of the triumphal entry were borrowed. Why? Because Jesus’ kingdom was not, and is not, an earthly kingdom. He has no need for the trappings of this world. If Jesus is truly King of Kings and Lord of Lords over our lives then we do not need these things either. Affirmation one day can turn into empty praise the next.

The concept of stewardship in scripture alludes to this. Nothing that we have or own is ours, God has given it to us on loan, we have borrowed it from God’s library as it were. Everything, our lives, our health, our property, our possessions, our friends, our families, have been given to us to steward. We came into this world with nothing and we will leave with nothing.. Sometimes I think the greatest test God gives us in this life is to see if we are willing to give back to God what isn’t ours in the first place.

Our King of the twisted crown knew this on that day long ago when he entered Jerusalem to the shouts of “Hosanna! blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lᴏʀᴅ!”

Jesus says, I am a different kind of Lord.
Jesus asks, Have you given me all? Am I Lord of your life?

The loud and raucous entry into Jerusalem ends somewhat quietly with a rather strange incident at the end of our passage. Jesus goes to the temple, looks around, and then, because it is late, Jesus heads out to the nearby village of Bethany, where he and his disciples have booked lodging on Vrbo for the week of Passover.

Now, because we have the scriptures in front of us, we know what Jesus is going to do next. But first Jesus spends some time quietly observing, then he sleeps, and probably prays, on it. Which is a good lesson for those of us who want to rush into some sort of witness or ministry without prayer and reflection and then wonder why God doesn’t bless it. Our king of the twisted crown says, you are mine, you were bought with a price.

Jesus says, I am a different kind of Lord.
Jesus asks, Whose ministry is this anyway? Are you following me (or is it the other way around?)

After our passage, we learn that the next morning, Jesus revisits the Temple. Only this time, he is far from being a quiet observer.
I remember laughing at the meme, “if someone asks what would Jesus do? Remind them that breaking out whips and turning over tables is a distinct possibility.”

Sometimes, especially for us pacifist nonviolent Anabaptist types, a visibly frustrated Jesus wreaking havoc in a sacred place of worship makes us more than a little uncomfortable. And well it should, but perhaps in a different way. Over the years, the structure around the Temple had grown up until rather than supporting the Temple worship, it was keeping the people from worship. The Temple of Jesus’ day had become a place filled with barriers to worship, where tables of money changers were like the ticket kiosks at a big game or concert. Like the prophets of old, Jesus saw that people seemed to be more concerned with doing the correct things by outward appearances while their hearts were not right with God.My house shall be called a house of prayer, Jesus shouts, swinging his whip and kicking over tables, but you have made it a den of thieves.

According to statista.com the percentage of Americans who belong to a church or synagogue has decreased from 70% in 1992 to 46% in 2022. That means that you and I, all of us here, are now a minority. Now whether we think that is a bad thing or not, maybe it’s time we rethink what church should look like. Perhaps it means we’re less concerned with what happens here on Sunday, and more concerned about what church looks like every day of the week, both inside this building and outside these walls. Perhaps it means we take a good look at the way we do church and worship to see if there are any barriers that might be keeping people from feeling welcome or connecting more deeply to God. Perhaps it means that our king of the twisted crown needs to start cracking the whip to get our attention and start to turn over some unnecessary tables.

Jesus says, I am a different kind of Lord.
Jesus asks, What kind of church are you? Are you open to the possibility of a whirlwind kind of Spirit sweeping through your midst?

Now all of these questions may make you feel uncomfortable. They sure made me feel uncomfortable when I was reminded of them last week. I say reminded because they’re not new questions. But this place of distraction and noise and trinkets conspires to cause us to participate in a kind of collective amnesia until we forget where our allegiance lies, and we can no longer discern the voice of our Lord from the busy cacophony around us.

In a little while, in less than a week’s time, the same voices that welcome Jesus the King to Jerusalem with loud Hosannas will shout, Crucify him! Crucify him! But our king of the twisted crown is Lord of praises and he is Lord of shouts of rage.

Jesus is Lord.

In a little while, in less than a week’s time, the innocent one who will come like a thief in the night will be crucified like a criminal between two thieves. But our king of the twisted crown is Lord of both tomorrow’s restoration and he is Lord of today’s suffering.

Jesus is Lord.

In a little while, in less than a week’s time, the triumphant Son of David will hang broken on a bloody tree. But our king of the twisted crown is Lord of lords, and he is Lord of deep wounds and those deeply wounded.

Jesus is Lord.

I would like to close with several questions from NT Wright in his commentary on this passage as we reflect on Jesus’s radical redefinition of kingship:

(If Jesus is Lord): Are we ready to put our property at his disposal, to obey his orders even when they puzzle us?

(If Jesus is Lord): Are we ready to go out of our way to honor him, finding in our own lives the equivalents of cloaks to spread on the road before him, and branches to wave to make his coming into a real festival?

Or have we so domesticated and trivialized our Christian commitment, our devotion to Jesus himself, that we look on him simply as someone to help us through the various things we want to do anyway, someone to provide us with comforting religious experiences?

Jesus is Lord. Holy Week is an opportunity for us to ask ourselves what kind of Lord Jesus is and whether Jesus is indeed Lord of our lives. Our king of the twisted crown is the suffering servant who washes the feet of his followers, even the disciple who betrays him. When we wash each other’s feet as we will have the opportunity to do this Thursday, we are expressing the kind of Lord Jesus is and how the lordship of Christ causes us to serve each other. Jesus is Lord. Kings and kingdoms will all pass away, but there’s something about that name. Jesus is Lord. What have I to dread, what have I to fear, leaning on the everlasting arms. Jesus is Lord. A full-on bear-hugging embrace of that simple statement has been changing lives throughout history. And I have every reason to believe with every fiber of my being that if we take it to heart, our lives and the lives of the people around us will be radically changed forever. Jesus is Lord.

Let us pray,
O Divine Master, King of the twisted crown of thorns, be ruler of our hearts, souls, minds, every fiber of our being, for we acknowledge what we should already know, You are Lord of all. Amen.