He is Lord
“He is Lord” by Pastor Rosanna McFadden
We are standing on the threshold of a tumultuous week. This may be the case for you personally, depending on what is going on with your work, your family, your health, your plans for Easter — but I meant the word “tumultuous” to describe the gospel accounts of this coming week, which we call Holy Week. There may be some moments of elation and triumph, but the emotional trend of this biblical week is definitely downward — from bad to catastrophic. I want to remind you of some of what you have already heard and participated in as part of this service before we get further into the events of Holy Week, and as we consider the things which make for peace.
Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem is narrated in each of the gospels. They don’t all mention palm branches, but they each mention that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. Matthew, written especially for a Jewish audience, is specific about a young donkey, a colt. For Jewish readers, this fulfils a prophecy from Zechariah 9:9 “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey”. The shouts of Hosanna, son of David — or Save us son of David — make it clear that the people of Jerusalem are welcoming not just any king, but their Messiah, the King of the Jews.
None of the gospels go into explicit detail about the political and religious upheaval that this entry into Jerusalem caused — we know that religious leaders were already plotting ways to discredit Jesus and stop his ministry, and we know from contemporary sources in biblical times what occupation by the Roman Empire looked like. And because we know how the next week ends, we know that all these forces of religious plotting, political power and paranoia and messianic expectations collide in a show-down of earthly power and heavenly purpose which ends in the crucifixion of Jesus. Jesus knew what would happen at the end of the week that the people who were waving branches and shouting Hosanna! today would be calling Crucify him! on Friday. Palm Sunday is a day of prophecy, but also a day of irony — is death is lurking in the shadows of the cheering crowd.
Therefore * given all this, It is interesting that in Luke’s account of Palm Sunday, before Jesus enters Jerusalem, he weeps over the city, saying “If you had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace.” There is irony even in Jesus’ sorrow: Jerusalem means City of Peace; salem is a version of the Hebrew word ‘shalom.’ It would be like someone looking over the American city of Philadelphia and saying, “If only you understood the things which make for brotherly love.” Jesus’ prophecy in Luke 19:44 that “they will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within one stone upon another” comes true in AD 70, when the Roman Empire destroys the city of Jerusalem, kills its residents, and destroys the Temple. Jesus has compared himself to the Temple before, saying that if it is torn down, it will be built again in three days. This is Jesus mourning the city which is the spiritual home of his people, but also acknowledging the inevitability of his own death.
I wonder, and will never know for sure, how Jesus found peace during this week. He was one with his Father and doing his Father’s will, but he was also confronting religious leaders and trying to prepare his disciples for his death. His words to them during their last meal together in John 14, Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid, are pretty audacious, given the circumstances. It makes me think of the opening of the Rudyard Kipling poem, “If”:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you.
The world is going crazy, and Jesus is praying for peace, and leaving his peace, God’s peace, with his disciples.
Our text from Philippians 2 gives us a clue about how the first generation of Christians might have made sense of, been shaped by, and proclaimed the events of Holy Week — and beyond. If you find this text in your Bible, you’ll see that although it is part of Paul’s letter, verses 6-11 are laid out like poetry. This was an early Christian hymn — Paul is quoting lyrics which were probably familiar to his readers. Like many of the hymns and songs we still sing today, this one narrates the events of Jesus’ life and death. Hymns carrying the freight of theology is nothing new: looking at a community’s hymnal will tell you a lot about what they believe. So let’s look at this ancient hymn and how it might help us understand the coming week: it begins with Paul’s prologue, “So let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus . . .” What a beautiful way to invite us to be Christ-like in our perspective and our thoughts: Christ, who was one with God but was humble enough to be born as a human being and take the form of a slave, and who was obedient to the point of death — even death which was the most painful and humiliating possible — death by crucifixion. Death on a cross.
Therefore, because Jesus was God and was obedient to death, therefore, God has exalted him and given Jesus the name that is above every other name. Jesus, name above all names . . . you see, this ancient hymn still lives in music, and hopefully in our hearts, today. We sang a setting of the final verses this morning: every knee shall bow, every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Those of us who know the end of the story know that Jesus’ death on a cross is not the end of the story. But it is a part of the story which we must go through. We may go through it vicariously, by reading the Bible, or watching a cinematic adaptation of the story, but sacrifice and loss are also the lived experience of being humans who are courageous enough to have the same mind as Christ. Jesus did not just tell us the way to be obedient, he walked that path. He went before us so that we would know that there is life on the other side of sacrifice and loss. This is the paradox of God’s peace: in order to find the things which make for peace, the things we most long for, we have to empty ourselves of the things we strive for, or have been told are important: power, prestige, influence. I appreciated the way Tim Harvey expressed this in our Lent devotionals, Take Up Your Cross. Here is what he wrote for Thursday, April 10:
Empires have neither room nor imagination for a god who dies to bring salvation; weakness does not convince the powerful. And yet this is precisely the gospel story. The religious and political empires crucify Jesus, unaware that they are executing God. It is the inevitable outcome of the one who “emptied himself”, who proclaimed that the last will be first, and that peacemakers are the blessed ones, and calls us to the same.
I wish there were any easier way to get through this week and the hope of Easter, but a faith which fails to talk about the cost of the cross is not complete. Jesus wasn’t crucified so that our lives could be free from pain and loss; Jesus was crucified to show us that this is the way that we will have to go — not literally, we hope — but in order to have the mind of Christ, we too will have to empty ourselves, to let go of things which prop up our egos or make us feel important, and to rely on the grace and the power of God. This is the only way we can find peace when the world is going crazy. This is the only way we can allow God’s will to be done in us. This is the way we proclaim and demonstrate that Jesus is Lord.
I’d like to close with a poem I’m sharing with permission from the author, Robin Wentworth Mayer. As you know, Robin is a pastor and member of Creekside who is currently serving as an interim pastor at Crest Manor CoB in South Bend. I’m going to save the last stanza for Easter morning, but I’ll read the parts which remind us what happened on Thursday and Friday.
An Easter Triduum Poem
By Robin Wentworth Mayer
The night grows cold – the Betrayer grows bold,
The sorrow of the cross casts a shadow on His Soul.
The darkness deepens, the pathway steepens —
His Friends disappear as He struggles for control.
Wild accusations – silent frustrations,
Strong hands needlessly bound from behind.
Freedom surrendered, Sin’s debt tendered,
The King of Kings ransoms his life for mine.
A Son dies – a mother cries,
The tomb swallows Life leaving loved ones bereft.
The grieving starts in dejected hearts –
‘It is finished’ and now there is nothing left.
The Sun rises – The Angel Surprises –
The Women arrive with work to complete.
The Word of God spoken, the tomb’s seal broken –Resurrection defies death’s defeat.