Following Jesus is Difficult (Matthew 16:21-28)

 Alright, guys, this is a little scary, and difficult. Jesus is talking about suffering and death.

He says to his disciples that suffering and death are in his future.

And that’s scary for the disciples, those who have chosen to follow him, and fully align their lives with his.

And that’s scary for us, because we, too, have chosen to follow him, and fully align our lives with his.

We don’t do it for suffering or for death. We don’t come here seeking suffering or death.

We come for blessing and joy and hope and love. 

We come for life.

The disciples expected Jesus to be the one to restore Israel, to cast off Roman rule, and establish a kingdom of God on earth marked by shalom—Shalom being a state of peace and harmony and wellbeing; a society in which every person is free, has autonomy, and dignity, and is able to thrive, in a nation ruled with justice and compassion.

How could this possibly come about, if Jesus, their leader, teacher, rabbi, messiah, were to suffer and die?

Peter objected to this. And probably, if we were there, we would object to it as well. 

God forbid it!

Peter objected so forcefully, the scripture says he rebuked Jesus. He rebuked Jesus, as if Jesus was possessed by a demon that was making him say this. Peter wanted that spirit, that demon, out of Jesus.

But then Jesus says to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! I’m not the one possessed by an unclean spirit! You are! You are a hindrance to me, for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

And then Jesus explains to the disciples that “if any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

When I was in 7th grade—12 or 13 years old—my church put on a musical play that involved most of the youth group. 

*******

It was quite embarrassing, really. Our youth director wore this elaborate Psalty the Singing Songbook costume… (Do any of you remember Psalty the Singing Songbook? So cringeworthy.)

I and the rest of my youth group had to dance around on stage, except that I had to do it while wearing a cast on my left arm, on account of having broken my wrist a few weeks earlier. 

On top of that, my voice was changing, which was especially noticeable during my solo.

The whole thing—just all of it—was just an adolescent’s nightmare.

We did several performances, and after the last one, our director said to me: “I meant to tell you that you could sing that down an octave.”

Yeah, that would have been nice to know before the performance!!!

I still remember one of the songs we sang: “If any man come after me, let him deny himself. Pick up his cross and follow me, into life eternally…”

I think it was the first song we learned, and for that reason it has stuck with me. I don’t remember the other songs, or the dance moves… and even what I do remember, I’ve been trying very hard all these years to forget!

But every time this verse comes up, the one in today’s scripture… I remember.

And I remember wondering, even back then, in seventh grade, what it means to “deny oneself and take up one’s cross.” 

What was Jesus really expecting of his followers? What was Jesus expecting of me?

So I guess at least one good thing did come out of that terrible musical experience… it got me to think theologically.

****** And I’m still wondering what it means, in our context today, to deny oneself and take up one’s cross.

Does it mean that we, like Jesus, must be willing to die? Is that what we can expect?

Well, in one sense, we have already died. All of us who have been baptized, have been baptized into Christ’s death.

******That’s what the apostle Paul says in Romans 6 [v. 3-4]. “All of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus have been baptized into his death. Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death…”

*******And, in Galatians 2:19, Paul writes: “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.”

What this means is that we no longer live for ourselves. We no longer live to satisfy our own desires at the expense of others. And we no longer seek to lift ourselves up—to exalt ourselves—while pushing others down.

Instead, we look to Jesus, who was willing to deny himself, to lay aside his ego, to humble himself and to demonstrate his greatness by serving others.

******

In the wilderness, Satan tempted Jesus with power and authority over all the kingdoms of the world. If Jesus had given in to that temptation, he could have forced his rule upon the world… which, honestly, is what some of the disciples were hoping he was going to do.

Just like many Christians today, who want power and authority so they can force their way of life on the rest of the world.

But Jesus resisted that temptation. He gave up power and authority in this world. He knew that implementing his will by force would make him no better than the Romans. 

So instead of domination, he chose humility and service.

And when I think about that, I start to wonder if maybe I’m still a long way from the kingdom of God.

I still have a hard time, sometimes, setting my ego aside. 

And I do long for power and authority… if not for me, than at least for those who are capable of bringing about the change I want to see in the world.

To humble myself as Jesus did… seems like a very difficult task.

******

When Dick Hamm was our general minister, he talked about how we as a church need to learn this lesson: how we need to learn to humble ourselves, and even be willing to die, for the sake of God’s kingdom. 

His focus was on the verse that says: “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for [Christ’s] sake will find it.”

How many congregations are willing to lose their life for Christ’s sake?

Most congregations are focused on keeping their life, keeping their congregation alive. Too many—according to Dick Hamm—are so obsessed with the survival of their congregation, that it is preventing them from doing any real ministry.

Instead of serving others, instead of seeking ways to love their neighbors in real, concrete ways, they spend all their energy on figuring out how to keep the lights on and the doors open.

And in that sense, those congregations are already dead.

The congregation, like the individual, must be willing to lose its life. It must be willing to deny itself. It must be willing to humble itself, and to exercise its power not through domination, or power, or control, but through service and sacrifice.

There is some discomfort in hearing that, isn’t there?

None of us want our congregation to die… not that I expect that to happen anytime soon… but still…

The fact that Jesus calls us to die, to be willing to die, to be willing to lose our life for his sake, is one part of following him that is very difficult and challenging.

But the amazing thing is that, as Dick Hamm learned: those congregations that do make a decision that risks death, often end up finding new life.

*******

An example: a congregation sees its dwindling resources, and can decide one of two things: either it holds on as tightly as it can to what it has, or it lets go, and continues serving its community generously, meeting the needs of neighbors near and far, figuring: “If we’re going to die, we might as well go out with a bang.”

And instead of pulling back on their missionary and ReachOut efforts, they renew their focus on such things, going hard until they can go no longer.

In essence, those congregations said: “whether this congregation lives or dies isn’t what’s most important; what’s most important is that we serve the needs of those around us for as long as we can.”

But remarkably, their efforts to reach out and serve their neighbors in a sacrificial way, despite their dwindling size and resources, often ends up drawing attention; and new life begins to flow into the congregation.

That congregation faced death willingly, and then experienced the power of resurrection.

So what am I, as pastor, supposed to do? Do I push our congregation to give even more, even if it means it’s that much harder to meet our own needs, pay our own bills? Even if it means there is less money to pay the pastor, and I end up putting my own future in jeopardy?

These are very difficult questions.

On the other hand, I think our New Beginnings process is helping us understand a little more the questions, if not find our way to some answers.

As you know, 2026 has been a challenging year for us financially, and we probably have more challenging years ahead. We could cut back on our ReachOut efforts, saying we just can’t afford it, we have our own bills to pay.

And yet in recent months we have done the opposite. There is so much renewed energy surrounding our Helping Shelf, for example. So many more have gotten involved, taken on leadership, and helped us take greater ownership of this ministry that has grown beyond anything anyone expected when it first started.

And in other ways, we are looking for new ways to do ministry, new opportunities to share God’s love both with people who are a part of this congregation, as well as those who aren’t.

Tonight we begin “Something Different,” a wholly new type of worship experience, with leadership provided by a number of different people, with the hope that it might be something that helps meet the spiritual needs of many, including those for whom our 9am Sunday morning worship isn’t connecting with them.

It doesn’t make sense that a congregation facing financial challenges is starting so many new things, devoting so much energy into new ministry efforts, working so hard to reach beyond itself.

And yet… we have this hope, this assurance, that resurrection and new life will come to those who are willing to risk it all for Christ’s sake. 

******

I am not a risk-taker. Far from it. When I was a kid and played capture the flag, I almost never ventured over into the other team’s territory. To venture into the other team’s territory was to risk getting caught, and I just didn’t want to take that risk. I was too concerned with my own survival.

But the thing is, it’s impossible to win capture the flag without taking that risk. 

In the same way, it’s impossible to experience all the hope and joy and blessing and love and life that God offers to us in the kingdom of God, if we aren’t willing to risk it all for the sake of that kingdom, and for the sake of Jesus Christ… the one who risked it all, and gave it all, for our sake.

In the kingdom of God, it is through such sacrifice of love that life appears in abundance. That’s the power of the resurrection.

It’s not that God demands suffering or death; a loving God would never do that. Yet God works through suffering and death to bring about new life. 

And those who mourn will be blessed, and those who are persecuted will be blessed, and those who give freely of themselves will be blessed, and those who suffer for what is right will be blessed…

And they will experience the kingdom of God, the kingdom of life.

Awkward (Matthew 21:1-11)

 

The scripture heading in my Bible labels this story, “Jesus’ Triumphal Entry.” That heading appears in big, bold print. Like all headings, it announces what is to come. You see that heading, and you know that you’re about to read about Jesus’ Triumphal Entry, because that’s what it says.

And we’ve heard Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem described this way so many times, it’s hard to get it out of our heads. Even Wikipedia says that Palm Sunday “commemorates Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem.”

So, before we even start reading the actual text, we have in our minds that this is a triumphal entry. 

And the word triumphal means “celebrating a triumph,” or, “celebrating a victory.” When your sports team wins the championship, and you have a parade in their honor, that is a triumphal procession.

When we read our Bibles and we see that heading, we get in our minds that Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem is a procession celebrating a triumph.

You should know, however, that headings like this were put into the Bible by modern editors. They are not part of the original text. They were added in, to break up the text, to make it easier to read.

In fact, there are some modern translations that don’t have these added headings. The books of the Bible are not divided up into short sections, each with its own heading or title, because that’s how the Bible was originally written.

It is helpful, therefore, to sometimes read the scripture, and ignore those headings that the editors put in; because maybe what those editors say that scripture is all about, isn’t really what that scripture is all about. 

It might especially be important to do this when that heading—that brief description—has influenced what we think of a passage, and how we interpret that passage…

If we can set aside, for a moment, the description of this event as a “triumphal procession,” what do we get? What do we read? What do we hear?

One thing we hear in today’s scripture is that the disciples brought to Jesus a donkey and a colt. They put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.

And now… I have questions. A donkey AND a colt?

Now, if you already have it in your mind that this is a triumphal procession, then you’re going to try to make sense of this in a way that reinforces and supports the idea that this procession was triumphal.

In your mind, you’re going to try to picture Jesus riding on top of a donkey and a colt in a way that is worthy of the triumphant ruler we imagine him to be. 

So, do that: picture a donkey, and a colt. Picture them. Picture their faces, their legs, their tails. Hear the sounds they make.

And now, imagine Jesus, somehow riding both of them at the same time.

I don’t know about you, but I always tried so hard to picture Jesus looking dignified, glorious, regal… 

But, eventually, I realized, you just can’t.

How does one sit, exactly, when riding two animals at the same time? Especially when those animals are a donkey and a colt. Have you ever seen a donkey? Have you ever heard a donkey?

A triumphal entry would involve a mighty steed, a great warhorse, big, strong, powerful. And maybe there would be two of them, but the rider wouldn’t be riding the horses; he’d be riding in a chariot that those horses were pulling; a chariot decorated in gold, and adorned with purple cloths.

And the person being honored by this triumphal procession would be a mighty figure returning from some great victory.

But in this case, it wasn’t a mighty victory that Jesus was returning from. In fact, if we look back in scripture to what happened just before he enters Jerusalem, we find that Jesus had taken his disciples aside and said to them, “Look. I’m going to be handed over to the authorities, to be mocked and flogged and crucified.”

Is that something that makes you say, “Great! Let’s have a parade!” (?)

So, everything about this procession seems a little bit off.

How on earth did we ever come to think of this as triumphal?

By the way, there was someone who regularly did process into Jerusalem in a chariot pulled by a mighty warhorse. Herod. 

Some scholars even say that Herod was arriving into Jerusalem from one side of town on the exact same day—and maybe even the exact same hour—that Jesus was arriving into Jerusalem from the other side of town.

And when Herod arrived, not only did he arrive in a chariot pulled by a mighty warhorse; he also had his armies line the roads, standing at attention, their armor gleaming in the sun, with their spears raised high in salute.

Now that’s a triumphal procession!

But when Jesus arrived, riding his donkey and his colt, it was commoners—artisans and peasants and other riff raff—who lined the streets. They didn’t have any spears to raise. All they could find to raise in salute were branches they had cut from the trees.

No, triumphal is not the word I would use to describe this. The word I would use is awkward.

Things got even more awkward after that.

After he entered Jerusalem, Jesus went to the temple, where he overturned the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of those who sold doves. 

And after that, the scripture says, a crowd of “blind and lame” people gathered around him.

Herod had his army: an army of mighty soldiers. Now, Jesus was gathering his own army: an army of the blind and lame.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with being blind or lame. People who are blind, or lame, or who have any other type of disability: God’s image dwells in them just as fully as it does in anyone else.

But that’s not how people in ancient times saw things. They viewed people with disabilities as inherently inferior people, and the fact that these are the people Jesus gathered around him—well, it was rather awkward. 

Yet, somehow, people still thought he was going to be the leader of a new kingdom, the kingdom of God.

A few days later, on Passover, Jesus gathered with his disciples to celebrate the Passover meal. Formal banquets followed a set pattern, and this meal with his disciples was no exception—until he took the bread and said, “This is my body,” and when he took the cup and said, “this is my blood.”

Well, that’s awkward. I must confess, sometimes it still seems a little awkward when we say those words in worship every Sunday.

Then Jesus said to his disciples: “You all are going to desert me. You’re all going to abandon me.”

They insisted they would never abandon him. He was their leader, their rabbi, their messiah, their king!

Then he started washing their feet, doing a task normally reserved for servants or slaves. Imagine some idol of yours, someone you admire, someone whose very presence awes you—serving you in such a way!

It made the disciples feel very awkward.

We have had foot washings here at BKCC in the past, some years, when we celebrate Maundy Thursday. And, yes, if you’ve never done it, it’s every bit as awkward as you’d imagine.

Then, after that was all over, Jesus and his disciples went outside to a garden. Jesus prayed; oh, how intensely he prayed!

Then soldiers arrived, led by Judas, one of the disciples. Judas had betrayed Jesus and led the soldiers to the garden; and the soldiers arrested Jesus.

Suddenly, according to the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), one of Jesus’ disciples put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. John’s gospel identifies this disciple as Peter. But Jesus stopped him. Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.”

And that was awkward; no kingdom had ever been built without the might of spears and swords.

And, after that, all the disciples fled and deserted Jesus; and Jesus was taken away. He was flogged, given a trial, and sentenced to death. The soldiers then stripped him of his clothes, nailed him to a cross, and crucified him.

This is the most awkward part of all. Their leader, their rabbi, their messiah, their king, stripped of what little glory he had, humiliated, and executed.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. At least, it wasn’t how anyone imagined it was going to happen… It certainly wasn’t what any of them wanted to happen.

And, looking back, it seemed like everything leading up to this had been all wrong. More than awkward, it was a catastrophic defeat.

From the donkey to the branches to the unarmed army of the lame and the blind, to the arrest and the betrayal and the humiliation, and ultimately, the disgraceful, cursed, execution on a cross—it is all so shameful.

And as tragic as the death of their friend, their leader, their teacher was, this was more than that. It was the death of their dream, their hope, that a new world was coming, a new kingdom in which God’s righteousness and justice would characterize life, instead of Rome’s oppression and humiliation.

All of that died on the cross, with Jesus.

Or, so it seemed.

But God was not done yet. 

There were two different hopes, two different dreams, two different visions for the world; but only one was aligned with God. Only one vision for the world had God’s favor.

And (spoiler alert) when you have God’s favor, nothing can defeat you.

Which means that, no matter how defeated you feel, no matter how humiliated, no matter how much the world has torn you apart and beat you down, no matter how oppressed you are, no matter how much despair and tragedy are in the world…

There is a victory yet to come. There is a victory yet to come for all those who live in love, who long for truth, who desire peace in their lives and in the lives of all people - yes, ALL people, people from every nation, every continent; people of every race and every religion; people of every gender and sexuality; people who are young and old, and rich and poor…

There is a victory yet to come for all the blind and lame, for all those who are not accommodated, all those who are excluded and made to feel second class…

There is a victory yet to come. 

Because no matter how much death seems to have a grip on this world, LIFE will ultimately prevail.

And everything that seemed so AWKWARD, and everything that seemed so HUMILIATING, and everything that seemed so laughably absurd, and everything that seemed so catastrophic, 

Will be turned upside down. The first will be last, the least will be greatest.

The blind and the lame and the meek will inherit the earth.

And the one who rode into Jerusalem on a donkey (or, on a donkey AND a colt), who was greeted by crowds of the lame and the blind raising tree branches instead of spears, and who died on the cross,

…will rise again on Easter Sunday, and then, the world will see God’s kingdom prevail; then, the world will know that life and love will be with God’s people forever and ever; then, the world will realize that what happened on Palm Sunday, and in the week that followed, truly was the greatest triumph of all.

"Kingdom of God, Part 2" (Matthew 21.1-11)

Today is Sunday, April 5. Palm Sunday. The first day of Holy Week.

The gospel reading for today comes from Matthew, chapter 21, verses 1-11.

When they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus gave two disciples a task. He said to them, “Go into the village over there. As soon as you enter, you will find a donkey tied up and a colt with it. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, say that their master needs them.” He sent them off right away. 

Now this happened to fulfill what the prophet said, Say to Daughter Zion, “Look, your king is coming to you, humble and riding on a donkey, and on a colt the donkey’s offspring.” The disciples went and did just as Jesus had ordered them. They brought the donkey and the colt and laid their clothes on them. Then he sat on them.

Now a large crowd spread their clothes on the road. Others cut palm branches off the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds in front of him and behind him shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up. “Who is this?” they asked. The crowds answered, “It’s the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Did you notice anything strange about this reading? Matthew says Jesus rode on a donkey and a colt. Now, I’m not that familiar with these kinds of things, but I can’t imagine how Jesus would ride a donkey and a colt at the same time. 

But actually, what Matthew is doing is making a reference to Zechariah 9:9, which mentions the foal or colt of a donkey. So maybe Matthew got confused; or maybe those who transcribed the scriptures mixed things up; but really, only one animal is meant. A young foal, or colt, of a donkey.

And a donkey is not the most impressive looking beast. And it doesn’t make the most impressive sound. A donkey is a humble animal. Nobody is ever flattered by being compared to a donkey. Nobody is ever honored by being called a jackass.

No. The animal you’d really want, if you wanted to display your power, if you wanted to display your honor, was a stallion. A mighty warhorse!

And, as it so happened, on the day Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey, there was another procession, coming in from the other side of town.

Herod’s procession.

And believe me, Herod’s procession did not have donkeys. Herod’s procession had mighty warhorses.

Herod was a ruler who ruled under Caesar. He had his headquarters at a place called Caesarea Phillipi, but he made occasional visits to Jerusalem; and when he did, he arrived with great pomp and circumstance. 

He would arrive on a mighty warhorse, surrounded by many chariots.  As he travelled, the road was lined with soldiers, who raised their spears and swords as he passed by. It was a great, grand, glorious procession; one that left a mark in the minds of all who lived under his rule. It was the power of Rome on display, in all its terrible fearsomeness. It was a way of proclaiming to the world that Herod was the king, and Caesar the king of kings. It was a way of proclaiming that Caesar was Lord and Savior of the people of Rome. It was a way of demanding allegiance to the kingdom of Rome.

Jesus proclaimed a very different kingdom. He and his followers called him the king of kings, the Lord and Savior of the world. These were very political statements.

These were very dangerous statements.

Many believed that Jesus was to be a king like Herod, like Caesar, one who would take over the throne and rule in Caesar’s place. So when Jesus arrived in Jerusalem, the most powerful city in that region, they expected him to make a grand entrance, just like the emperor would, or just like Herod would.

But how, exactly, would Jesus take the place of Herod or Caesar? Rome was not a democracy. You couldn’t vote Caesar out. 

And armed rebellions didn’t really work. The roads were lined with dead men hanging on crosses to remind you what happened to those who tried to rebel against Rome.

But what if… What if the one leading the revolution was the son of God? What if the one leading the revolution had all of God’s power and might?

This was the hope of the people. This is why they cheered and waved their palm branches.

But they didn’t understand just how different the kingdom of God is from the kingdoms of this world. The fact that Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey should have been a clue that Jesus didn’t intend to take power by force or violence. And the fact that he didn’t have any armed soldiers lining the roads as he made his way into Jerusalem should have been another clue. 

All he had were crowds of poor people who had no weapons. Just branches cut down from the trees.

And this was exactly as it should have been - as it was meant to be. The son of God could have found a warhorse if that was what he wanted. But as Jesus himself says, the way of violence is not his way. If he had used violence to bring about God’s kingdom, then how would that be any better than the kingdom it was replacing?

But the people’s imagination was limited. Their imagination was limited! They couldn’t imagine a kingdom as different as God’s kingdom.

And when it became clear that Jesus was not going to succeed in taking Herod’s place or Caesar’s place… When it became clear that the power of Herod and Caesar would instead be used to crucify Jesus… the people deserted Jesus. 

What they didn’t understand is that they could live in the kingdom of God even in the midst of Roman oppression. Life in the kingdom of God does not depend on who’s in charge of the empire. The kingdom of God does not depend on who’s on the throne. In the kingdom of God, there is freedom of a different sort. 

Paul knew this freedom. Even when he was locked away in prison, Paul knew freedom in Christ. Paul was a free man in God’s kingdom, even while his body was bound in chains. His mind was free, his spirit was free, his heart was free.

And he was free to love. 

We are always free to love. We can always choose to love. Always. No matter how hateful others may be. We can always choose nonviolence, no matter how violent our oppressors may be. No matter what’s going on. 

And because we can always choose to love, we can always live in God’s kingdom.

Right now, in this present moment, it is not Rome that has us feeling oppressed, but a virus. A tiny, microscopic virus that has become more powerful than any human army.

And we want nothing more than to rid the world of this virus. We want to be free. 

But no matter how long we are confined, trapped, imprisoned by this virus, our hearts and our minds will never be trapped or imprisoned. 

And we still can choose to love. 

So the kingdom of God is ours to claim, to possess, to live in. We can choose God’s kingdom right now. We can choose love right now. We can choose light and life right now. 

There are a million ways to live in love and light, even in these difficult times. There are a million ways to spread love and light, even in the midst of a devastating pandemic.

But to do that - to live in God’s kingdom during very difficult times - we have to get creative. We have to use our imagination. Remember how creative Jesus and his followers were at their procession. They couldn’t possibly have a procession that matched the display of power that Herod’s procession had. Yet that didn’t matter. After all, which procession is most remembered today? Not the one with horses and chariots, but the one with a donkey. Not the one with soldiers holding weapons, but the one with poor people holding branches.

Right now, we aren’t able to do all we want to do. But we can get creative. We can use our imagination. We have no weapons to fight with, but we do have palm branches to wave. That may not seem like enough. What we have right now, and what we are able to do right now, may not seem like enough.

But we can use our imagination and find creative ways to live in love, to live in light, to live in God's kingdom, and show that even when our activities are restricted, we are free. And even in a world where people are dying, there is life. Because even on the path to crucifixion, there is resurrection. 

Look closely. See the kingdom of God present, right now, in our midst. Believe the kingdom of God is present, right now, in our midst. Live in the kingdom of God, right now, right where you are.