Sublime Absurdity (Luke 19:28-40)

 Sermon: “Sublime Absurdity”

I hope you don’t get tired of my stories from California…

⬛ Just a few miles from the neighborhood where I grew up, there is a parade that happens every year called the Rose Parade. You’ve probably heard of it. 

Every year on January 1 (or January 2 if the first is a Sunday), a million people line a five-mile stretch of Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena for what is officially known as the Tournament of Roses.

I went to the parade once. We arrived at 7 or 8 the night before, set up our lawn chairs on the sidewalk, bundled up in blankets, and spent a cold night waiting for the parade to start at 8 a.m. the next morning.

It was miserable!

Another year, I volunteered to help decorate some of the floats. Since the floats are completely covered with flowers or other natural materials, the decorating must all be done as close to the day of the parade as possible. So in the days leading up to the parade, volunteers work around the clock to decorate the floats. 

The group I was with had an overnight shift. It was cold. Most of us had a cup of coffee or hot chocolate to keep us warm, and another cup filled with glue for attaching the flower petals to the floats. The most important thing we had to remember was to not get the two cups mixed up. 

The very first Rose Parade took place in 1890. Back then the parade was just one of several events that made up the Tournament of Roses. 

It all began when the distinguished Valley Hunt Club in Pasadena wanted to find a way to promote their city, which they called the "Mediterranean of the West." They invited their former East Coast neighbors to a winter holiday, where they could watch games such as chariot races, jousting, foot races, polo and tug-of-war under the warm California sun. 

The abundance of fresh flowers, even in the midst of winter, prompted the club to also organize a parade, where entrants would decorate their carriages with hundreds of blooms.

According to the Tournament of Roses website, the festival expanded in the coming years to include “marching bands and motorized floats. The games on the town lot included ostrich races, bronco busting demonstrations and a race between a camel and an elephant (the elephant won).”

In 1902, they added a football game to the list of activities.

In 1958, the William Wrigley family donated to the City of Pasadena the Wrigley mansion located near the start of the parade route. The Wrigley Mansion has been the headquarters of the Rose Parade ever since, serving as a sort of home base for the volunteers who run the Tournament of Roses. You can always tell the volunteers by the fancy white suits they wear.

In 1997, the B-2 stealth bomber made its first appearance at the Rose Parade. It approached by flying over my hometown of Burbank before arriving right above the parade route in Pasadena at the exact moment the parade began. The stealth bomber has appeared in nearly every Rose Parade since.

There are many other ceremonies and traditions associated with the Rose Parade. Over the years, the Tournament of Roses has maintained its image as a dignified and respected celebration of California and the new year.

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Colorado Blvd. is host to another annual parade which takes place every November. This other parade is called the Doo Dah parade.

⬛ The Doo Dah Parade aims to be everything that the Rose Parade is not. 

The Doo Dah Parade began with a conversation that took place at Chromo’s Bar and Grill in the winter of 1978. Chromo’s was located on the parade route, but was far less glamorous than the Wrigley Mansion. A scrawled message in the men’s room said, “Chromo’s has a way with God’s unwanted.”

Peter Apanel, one of those who were a part of that conversation, later wrote that:  “Whatever we did, it would have to be just the opposite of what the Rose Parade does. They have a theme so we would have no theme. They have judging and prizes, so we would have no judging and no prizes. Since none of us would be allowed in the Rose Parade, we would allow everyone in our parade.”

The Doo Dah Parade website says that “Doo Dah means many things to many people ~ perhaps, a little something different to everyone. Wacky and weird? Sublime absurdity? Rite of reversal? Twisted sister of the Rose Parade? Probably all of the above.”

I never attended the Doo Dah Parade. Nor did I ever volunteer with them. 

But knowing about the Doo Dah Parade does help me understand just a little better Jesus’ procession into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

⬛ We sometimes use the word “triumphal” to describe Jesus’s procession into Jerusalem. But the real “triumphal” procession was the one taking place over on the other side of town. The real “triumphal” procession would have been Herod’s procession into Jerusalem.

Jesus’ procession was more like the Doo Dah Parade to Herod’s Rose Parade.

Some scholars believe that Herod’s parade and Jesus’s parade took place simultaneously, because both Jesus and Herod would have been arriving in Jerusalem in advance of the Passover holiday. But they were arriving by different routes… and that was only the beginning of their differences.

Herod’s entry into Jerusalem was grand and spectacular. Herod arrived on a mighty warhorse, surrounded by chariots. Roman soldiers lined the roads, and they raised their spears and swords in salute as Herod passed by. If Herod had had a B-2 stealth bomber, it would have undoubtedly have made an appearance. 

Jesus’s entry, meanwhile, was a little less grand. Jesus arrived on a donkey, or a colt—a humble beast, not nearly as magnificent as a mighty warhorse. 

No chariots accompanied Jesus’s procession. Instead, he was followed by a crowd of common people: peasants, outcasts, and other lowlifes and misfits. They certainly didn’t have any spears or swords to raise in his honor, so they grabbed some tree branches, and raised those.

In every way, then, Jesus’s parade was an “anti-parade,” an “un-parade,” the exact opposite of Herod’s procession.

It was the first century equivalent of the Doo Dah Parade.

It even had some of the Doo Dah Parade’s “sublime absurdity.” 

Because, it is absurd that a “king” would come riding on a donkey or a colt… It is absurd that his parade route would be lined with the poor and the outcasts, raising sticks and branches instead of spears and swords… 

And that was intentional. Jesus could have had the warhorse and the chariots and the armies and the weapons. He could have had a B-2 bomber! All the power of all the kingdoms of the world could have been his; he was offered all that when he was tempted in the wilderness. 

But that was not his calling. It was not his purpose. That wasn’t the way of God’s kingdom.

In the kingdoms of this world, all the attention is focused on those at the top: the people with power. In the kingdoms of this world, might is what matters. In the kingdoms of this world, rulers strut, they posture, they flex.

In God’s kingdom, attention is focused on those at the bottom: the poor, the outcasts, the misfits. In God’s kingdom, humility and kindness matter. In God’s kingdom, those who lead humble themselves, and serve.

It would not be appropriate, therefore, for Jesus to display wealth and power in his parade. That was Herod’s way of doing things. That was not Jesus’s way.

Likewise, it would not be appropriate for Jesus’s followers to raise spears and swords to honor him, as the soldiers who lined Herod’s parade route did. Jesus is the true bringer of peace. His way is nonviolent.

Palm branches are a much more appropriate thing to raise. They bring to mind the leafy twig the dove had in its beak when it returned to Noah. To this day, the image of a dove with a twig in its beak is a sign of peace. 

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Now here’s the thing: a lot of people don’t like this humble servant Jesus. A lot of people don’t want to be in a parade of misfits and lowlifes. 

A lot of people want the mighty warhorse. They want the swords and the spears and the B-2 bombers. They want demonstrations of power.

Politicians and preachers alike try to one-up each other in demonstrations of power. They show off their aggression and virility. They can’t stand signs of weakness, in themselves or anyone else. They have no tolerance for weakness.

Hence, the chariot, the soldiers, the weapons, and the warhorse.

But the one who comes riding a donkey is the one who says “Blessed are the meek… Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth…”

And the one who comes riding a donkey is the one who shows mercy and compassion toward those who are most vulnerable. 

Those who are in love with power don’t bow down before Jesus; they make the gospel bow down before them. The gospel becomes a tool, used to further advance their own power.

That’s what Herod did. Herod used religion to increase his own power. He knew that the Jews were his people. He had Jewish roots himself. 

So he rebuilt the temple for them, a temple that was one of the most impressive structures on earth at the time. 

But did Herod really build that temple for the people? Did he build it to honor God? Or was his real reason for building that temple to honor himself, so that he could go to the people and boast: “Look what I did?” 

That is the question.

We still have politicians today who speak of faith and who carry the Bible and who sing hymns in the halls of government, yet they do not humble themselves as Jesus did; they do not show mercy to the weak and vulnerable as Jesus did; they do not care for the poor as Jesus did and as Jesus commanded his followers to do. 

When it comes to parades, they are drawn irresistibly to the parade with chariots and swords and spears.

The choice is always there before us: do we worship the one who arrives on a warhorse, with signs of power? Or do we worship the one who arrives on a donkey, humble, with signs of peace?

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There are two parades taking place. There are always two parades. 

They arrive in the city at the same time but by different routes, so you cannot attend them both.

You have to choose. Which parade will you attend? Which king will you honor?

I gotta tell you, attending Jesus’ parade, and joining in that parade and following Jesus into Jerusalem, won’t be easy. You will be put to the test. The way of Jesus is the way of trial and sacrifice. The way of Jesus leads to the cross.

But at the same time, it is the more rewarding parade. It’s the only parade that ultimately leads to life. It’s the only parade that will bring you ultimate security. It’s the only parade that you can truly join, just as you are. 

Not everyone can join Herod’s parade. But everyone is welcome to join Jesus’s parade. It is the parade of love, and joy, and peace.

Palms, and Other Symbols (John 12:12-16)

 

I don’t know if you realize it or not—I think probably you do—but the cross that we use as the symbol of our Christian faith, it is an ironic symbol, one that is used almost satirically, or mockingly. Because the cross, of course, was a symbol of defeat. It was a symbol of oppression and intimidation. It was a symbol of death. 

Simply put, crosses were used to kill people, to execute people.

Jesus knew well what the cross meant. When he was a very young child, there was a violent uprising in Sepphoris, a city next door to Nazareth. Rome crushed that rebellion—brutally crushed it—and as a warning to others, Rome crucified 2,000 of the rebels. They took them down to Jerusalem, hung them all on crosses… and the roads leading to Jerusalem were lined with crosses, with bodies hanging on them. 

The message was clear: don’t challenge Rome, or this will be your fate.

Jesus challenged Rome. He didn’t challenge Rome with military might, which is probably why he was able to get away with it for as long as he did; Instead, Jesus challenged Rome by offering people an alternative way of living, a way that went against Roman ideals and mores.

But Rome could only put up with that for so long. Eventually, Jesus himself was crucified by Rome; and just like the crucifixions after the Sepphoris uprising, Jesus’ crucifixion was Rome’s way of saying, “Look: this movement that he started? It’s over. Go back to your lives.”

So the cross was a symbol—a powerful symbol—of defeat.

But, because of the resurrection, Christianity took that symbol of defeat, and turned it into a symbol of victory. Christianity took that symbol of death, and turned it into a symbol of new life. What was once a symbol of evil, became a symbol of good.

I mention this, because the palms that we wave on Palm Sunday work in a similar way.

Let me explain.

The great leaders of Jesus’ time, like Herod, and Caesar… when they had a procession, it was a daunting display of military power and might. Soldiers lined the roads; they wore their finest armor, decorated with Roman insignia; and they raised into the air spears and swords—symbols of Rome’s power and might. 

The weapons, raised in the air, were a warning to the people: obey Herod. Obey Caesar. Rome is unassailable, and you cannot possibly challenge the mighty power of the Roman Empire. If you do, you will find yourself at the wrong end of one of these swords, one of these spears, one of these weapons of death.

Well, Jesus’ followers didn’t have very many swords or spears or other weapons. On one occasion, when one of his followers did produce a sword, Jesus rebuked him, and told him to put away his sword, because that was not his way.

So, since they didn’t have swords or spears, Jesus’ followers didn’t have anything to raise in the air as he made his way into Jerusalem—except for palm branches.

Beautiful palm trees grow in many areas around Jerusalem; all the people had to do was climb up and cut the branches off the trees. 

And, palm branches were a symbol that had once been placed on Jewish coins when the Jewish nation was free. Palm branches were a symbol of Jewish nationalism, an expression of the people’s desire for political freedom.

That did make the palm branches a powerful, and potentially dangerous, symbol.

On the other hand, they were just palm branches. How could a palm branch possibly compare to a sword or a spear? Who would take a soldier seriously, who rides into battle with a palm branch, a leafy stick, as a weapon? 

And those who waved the palm branches… they weren’t soldiers wearing armor. Few of Jesus’ followers could afford armor. Instead, those who lined the roads at his procession were clad in rags and other raiment of the poor.

Then there is the donkey; or, the “donkey’s colt,” as it says in John’s gospel. A humble animal. A funny-looking animal, not as big as a horse, with a short, scrappy tail, ears that are slightly too large for its head, and which makes a funny sound: hee-haw, hee-haw.

Now, if Herod were making his way into Jerusalem, he’d be on a mighty warhorse, or in a chariot pulled by a mighty warhorse: a majestic animal, strong, with a beautiful mane and tail.

It kind of makes me think of Donkey in the movie Shrek, and how excited Donkey gets when Fiona calls him a “noble steed.” It’s funny, because Donkey is definitely not a noble steed.

Well, Herod gets the noble steed; Jesus gets the donkey.

So, you see the contrast between the two. Mighty Herod, gleaming armor, ornately decorated chariot, pulled by a mighty warhorse, processing into Jerusalem, with legions of soldiers lining the roads, raising their weapons of steel into the air as the procession passed by.

And Jesus: humble; on a donkey; without armor; without any weapons. Just a ragtag group of peasants and other poor folk, raising their palm branches.

And maybe this has you feeling sorry for Jesus. Certainly some of those who saw his procession felt sorry for him. They expected a king like King David, one who would rule in power, in place of Herod, or even in place of Caesar; one who would restore the nation of Israel and free them from Roman oppression.

In other words, they expected Jesus, on a warhorse, surrounded by a well-dressed army with enough swords and spears to drive Rome out of their land.

Those who had such expectations were, without question, disappointed.

Others, however, knew that Jesus would not ride a horse. After all, Psalm 20 says: “Some take pride in chariots and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God” . And Psalm 33:17: “The war horse is a vain hope for victory, and by its great might it cannot save.”

Nevertheless, there are a lot of people today who are still disappointed that Jesus arrives on a humble donkey, with no army, and no weapons. It is a hard thing to swallow. 

Have you ever seen a Christian school choose a donkey as its mascot? Every Christian school I’m familiar with,.. They’re the Warriors, or the Crusaders; and often, their mascot includes the warrior or crusader sitting on a horse. 

Even the writer of Revelation had a hard time with this. A humble Jesus on a donkey just would not do for him; so the writer of Revelation re-imagined Jesus as a mighty warrior on a mighty warhorse, carrying a mighty sword.

Jesus himself was tempted by this vision...

You may remember that, at the beginning of his ministry, when Jesus was in the wilderness, he was tempted with authority over all the kingdoms of the world; all the power and might of Rome and every other nation would be his, and he would have total control, and unlimited power. 

Jesus could have had the warhorse; Jesus could have had the armies, all of them, under his command; Jesus could have had all the weapons on earth, to rid the world of injustice and oppression, and establish the kingdom of God by force.

But Jesus resisted this temptation. Jesus knew that this was not his calling. It was not the way. God’s kingdom would not be established through power or force. 

Only love would build the kingdom of God.

So the palm branches and the donkey were chosen deliberately, not just because they were “all he could get.” Jesus rode a donkey and the crowd waved palm branches, to show, in dramatic fashion, that the kingdom of God was not at all like the kingdom of Herod; that it was, in fact, something completely different; a radical alternative.

The palm branches and the donkey not only became a way of demonstrating that difference; but they also mocked Herod’s kingdom and the Roman Empire. And Jesus’ procession, his triumphant entry, mocked the processions of Herod and Caesar.

In fact, because of the Passover festival, it is quite possible—quite likely, even—that Herod was arriving in Jerusalem on the same day as Jesus; that there were, in fact, two royal processions into Jerusalem that day! 

One, with Herod riding a warhorse, and his armies, and their weapons of steel; 

…And the other, with Jesus, riding a donkey, with his “army” of people, waving their palm branches.

And all the people of Jerusalem, and all the pilgrims who had come to Jerusalem for the festival, had to choose—they had to choose—which procession they wanted to see. 

Because Herod was probably coming in by one road, and Jesus by another. So the people had to choose: Herod, or Jesus? The kingdom of Rome, or the kingdom of God? The kingdom of intimidation and coercion, or the kingdom of compassion and love?

The people had to choose between everything Rome symbolized, and everything God’s kingdom symbolized. They had to choose between death and life, between injustice and justice, between oppression and liberation, between power by force and the power of love. 

And this is the choice we have to make every day.

After Herod’s procession, once he had arrived and had settled in, Herod probably hosted a great formal banquet, as was customary. Invitations with the royal seal were sent out, and at the appointed time, the invited guests arrived and were seated according to importance. Those without invitations were barred from entering by armed guards.

And at the meal, bread was broken, a sign of fellowship. This sign of fellowship was significant; to break bread with someone unworthy of your company, it would affect your own standing. So only those with a certain level of importance were on the guest list.

At these banquets, everyone tried to impress upon their host and upon the other guests how important they were. The banquet was an opportunity to prove one’s worthiness, and possibly even rise up in status.

And after bread was broken, a cup was lifted, in honor of Caesar. Whenever Romans gathered to eat and drink, they remembered Caesar.

Well, we know that Jesus would also soon have his own banquet with his disciples—his last supper with them. 

Those on Jesus’ guest list—the disciples—included fishermen, tax collectors, and other types of people who would not normally be invited to a formal banquet, because they were looked down upon. They weren’t the type of people with whom one would choose to break bread.

But Jesus did. And not only that; immediately after the meal, Jesus further humbled himself by taking up the towel of a servant, the towel of a slave, and washing his disciples feet, doing a lowly task that no respectable Roman would do.

And when Jesus took the cup, and lifted it, he didn’t invoke the name of Caesar, as was expected; instead, Jesus said that, from now on, when you drink from this cup, you are to remember me; invoke my name when you eat and drink together…

And finally, in the context of that Last Supper, he commanded his disciples to love. Because God’s kingdom is not about status; it’s not about power; it’s not about might…

God’s kingdom is about love.

So: now we have the donkey, and the palm branches, and the weaponless army; and we have the servant’s towel, and the command to love, and the invocation of Jesus’ name when raising the cup, instead of Caesar’s name.

These things are all connected. They are all symbols of humility, symbols of a generous, sacrificial love, and symbols of a kingdom, a way of living, that is very different from that of the Roman Empire.

But there is one more symbol yet to come, the one I mentioned at the beginning of the sermon.

The cross.

The ultimate sign of weakness and defeat.

But, out of love, Jesus willingly took on this symbol, just as he willingly took on: the palm branches, the donkey, the servant’s towel, and all the others.

And like all these other symbols, it, too, is transformed by the power of God’s love into a symbol of hope, a symbol of joy, a symbol of victory.

2,000 years later, we are still faced with a choice: do we choose the symbols of modern society: wealth, power, influence, intimidation?

Or do we choose the humble, loving, merciful qualities of the one who, instead—as a sign of his love for all the world—rode a donkey, and donned a servant's towel, and accepted death on a cross?

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.