Palm/Passion Sunday And Today's Faith
Sermon
Sermons on the Second Readings
Series II, Cycle B
In the slaughter of World War I, 1914-1918, a whole generation of European men went to their deaths. The victors were France, Great Britain, and Italy. Together with the United States, they gathered in Paris to shape a peace treaty. Europeans sensed that the intervention of the United States encouraged by President Woodrow Wilson provided the victory. When President Wilson went to Paris to hammer out the peace in 1919, millions of Europeans hailed him as their savior. Huge crowds turned out to cheer him everywhere he went. They shouted, "Vive, le Wilson," and they hung banners in his honor wherever he traveled. For them, Wilson had been the driving force urging America to join in the crucial struggle toward the armistice. They also sensed that Wilson had a vision for a lasting peace, where all wars would end. To them he was a savior.
We remember this as we focus on "Passion Sunday," the day Jesus entered Jerusalem like Wilson in the cities of Europe, with shouts and cheers. We are not certain why Jesus went up to Jerusalem at that particular time. Nor do we know who joined in those cheers, scattering palm branches along his way. New Testament scholarship is hesitant to be certain on all of this; nor do we know what was in the heart of Jesus as he entered the city. What we do know is how the New Testament gospel tradition felt about it.
The gospels say Jesus entered Jerusalem because he believed his going to his death fulfilled God's plan for the salvation of the world. Today we're not certain that he had a definite reason for going up to Jerusalem that particular Passover. What seems certain is that after his crucifixion and resurrection, many believed his death was a crucial element of his mission and message. After all, the crucifixion shocked the early Christians so profoundly, provoking them to believe he was still with them, meaning his dream of a kingdom of God on earth was still on God's table. It is likely that the New Testament accounts of Passion/Palm Sunday are more about how that event affected his early followers, than what really happened.
Nor are we confident that huge crowds acclaiming him to be the Messiah, is solid history. Some feel his disciples had no sense that Jesus was any sort of Messiah, triumphantly entering the city to go to the cross and be resurrected. That the gospel accounts say his closest followers fled when he was arrested makes us wonder. If they knew, from Jesus, that he was the Messiah, claiming a special relationship with God's imminent kingdom, why did they panic and flee to the safety of Galilee?
The Positive Side Of Critical Bible Study
Where does this leave us? Some think such conclusions from modern critical Bible study cut the ground from under any vital faith. If the New Testament accounts of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus are not reliable history then all we have is pleasant, but meaningless, fiction about Jesus. Christians who call themselves fundamentalists feel this way. For them, if the New Testament and the gospels are not solid history, then there is no reason for trusting God who brings us to salvation through Jesus.
A seminary student who came from a fundamentalist background was put into a spiritual crisis when his biblical studies class began to question his uncritical biblical heritage. The critical Bible studies so devastated him he walked the floor at night in his apartment, trying to internalize this challenge to his faith. He never really got over this crisis. He drifted out of ordained ministry, saw his marriage crumble, agonized over a handicapped son, the violent death of another son, and never maintained a durable intimate relationship with another person. There have been numerous casualties of our modern critical approaches to the scriptures.
But like all things, there are two sides to this story. While our newer understandings of scripture have devastated the faith of many, it has also opened the possibility of serious belief to other modern people. Bishop John Shelby Spong describes his personal journey out of the fundamentalist culture in the American South. Along the way, this spiritual heritage became, for him, a hindrance to his Christian faith. He could not continue to hold a literal approach to scripture as he moved toward his adult years. He admits he is grateful for this basic grounding in a non-critical fundamentalist approach to scripture in his formative years. But as he moved out of the narrow world of his childhood and youth, he could not honestly express his faith in those terms and styles any longer. The experience of being forced to move on to a more critical, liberal faith became his central mission as an Episcopal priest, as a bishop of that tradition, and in retirement.
Spong is sensitive to those who cannot mesh their childhood faith with the modern world of science, critical historical research, and the increasing presence of other faith traditions. He has devoted his life to helping such people leave their confining spiritual moorings and move through the difficult, but rewarding effort toward a faith that joyfully embraces the truth of both past and present.
Jesus: A New Image Of God
Something that impressed the close followers of Jesus, something that they later said gave them a new understanding of God, was Jesus' willingness to put himself at risk. When Jesus told them he was planning to go up to Jerusalem, his disciples tried to warn him how dangerous that would be. Jerusalem at Passover would be filled with thousands of people. The possibility of a crowd disturbance by religious fanatics or violent revolutionaries would put Pilate and his security forces on "high alert." His followers may have sensed that Jesus' message of the coming kingdom of God could be easily misinterpreted by Pilate; Pilate was always suspicious of anything that might challenge his duty to keep order. Again, the high religious leaders of the Jews, those with a comfortable arrangement with Rome allowing them to keep their religious power and authority, would certainly be hostile to anyone who offered an alternative.
This may be the basis of the gospel stories where Jesus tells his friends that he felt compelled to go up to Jerusalem. These stories come to us many years after Jesus' death, reflecting later faith and understanding of what Jesus meant to them; but they may have a solid core of historical veracity about them. They ring true where Peter protests that Jesus should not do that: "And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, 'God forbid it, Lord! This must not happen to you' " (Matthew 16:22). It was evident to Peter and the disciples that this was a very risky decision.
Of course, Jesus is not dissuaded by their fears. Luke puts his strong commitment to going to Jerusalem in the face of danger and risk: "He set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Luke 9:51b). Concern for his personal safety could not keep him away from Passover. He must have been eager to preach, teach, and heal amid the large audiences there. Later reflections say this was part of God's plan -- giving himself up for us in a shattering, violent death. Certainly, his death provoked the radical claim of God upon the lives of many, but we need not theologize about Jesus taking this risky venture. His courage in proclaiming the kingdom of God was inspiring, for he and his disciples knew the high odds against his survival. Jesus became a profound source of inspiration simply because he was willing to put his life up as a witness to the saving truth which it contained.
We can understand this today. In politics the candidate for national office who has a valorous war record gains devotion and affirmation over another candidate who has none. Many Americans believe that the Vietnam conflict was a tragic mistake, a mar on the image of our country. The great national outrage and dissent over our involvement in Vietnam made this clear. Many Vietnam veterans were sensitive to the massive anti-war movements, feeling the protests to the war's dubious goals and shameful violence made them anti-heroes. While not withdrawing our objections, we have come to a high admiration for those who responded to the call of their country. Likewise. we have an admiration for Jesus who put himself at risk for others.
A God Who Suffers With Us
All this brings us to our lection from Paul's letter to the Christians at Philippi. How well this scripture fits our observance of Passion/Palm Sunday. In Philippi there was opposition to Paul from those whose self-interests were challenged. We do not know the specifics of this opposition. Some may have come from outside the church and some of it may have been from petty jealousies from within that congregation. Regardless, this opposition made Christian discipleship difficult and dangerous. Even if the gospel didn't put everyone in danger of their lives, certainly living out the sort of life that Paul demanded put them at odds with those who were at the level of narrowness, self-aggrandizement, and those who put security before anything else. Dealing with this would not be easy. Folks like this are always disruptive and in responding to them, one's time and energy are diverted from more central matters. They steal life from us.
An old observation given to a young person heading out to their first pastorate was, "Well, as you are called to feed the lambs in your congregation, be warned that you will find a few old rams." Living out the Christian life takes its inevitable toll. Let no one tell us that suffering for Christ is soothed over by mystic moments, by glorying in the resurrection, having someone who tells us that the Christian way is the way to an easy and successful life. But when we live this dangerous, risky, self-giving life it can be wonderfully attractive to others.
Paul reaches out to quote a hymn sung in his little churches. Its poetic lines speak of the effect of that risky caring for others -- the same risky caring prompting Jesus to go up to Jerusalem:
Who, though he was in the form of God,
Did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited,
But emptied himself, taking the form of a slave
Being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form, he humbled himself,
And become obedient to the point of death --
Even death on a cross.
-- Philippians 2:6-8
Then Paul drives home his point:
Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name
That is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus
Every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
And every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
To the glory of God the Father.
-- Philippians 2:9-11
Passion Sunday calls us to receive this truth -- for the first, or for the umpteenth time. Easter's joy will come soon enough. In the meantime, let us resist the rush toward Easter and hustle up to some Jerusalem that calls us. Then, like Jesus, we will be ready for Easter.
We remember this as we focus on "Passion Sunday," the day Jesus entered Jerusalem like Wilson in the cities of Europe, with shouts and cheers. We are not certain why Jesus went up to Jerusalem at that particular time. Nor do we know who joined in those cheers, scattering palm branches along his way. New Testament scholarship is hesitant to be certain on all of this; nor do we know what was in the heart of Jesus as he entered the city. What we do know is how the New Testament gospel tradition felt about it.
The gospels say Jesus entered Jerusalem because he believed his going to his death fulfilled God's plan for the salvation of the world. Today we're not certain that he had a definite reason for going up to Jerusalem that particular Passover. What seems certain is that after his crucifixion and resurrection, many believed his death was a crucial element of his mission and message. After all, the crucifixion shocked the early Christians so profoundly, provoking them to believe he was still with them, meaning his dream of a kingdom of God on earth was still on God's table. It is likely that the New Testament accounts of Passion/Palm Sunday are more about how that event affected his early followers, than what really happened.
Nor are we confident that huge crowds acclaiming him to be the Messiah, is solid history. Some feel his disciples had no sense that Jesus was any sort of Messiah, triumphantly entering the city to go to the cross and be resurrected. That the gospel accounts say his closest followers fled when he was arrested makes us wonder. If they knew, from Jesus, that he was the Messiah, claiming a special relationship with God's imminent kingdom, why did they panic and flee to the safety of Galilee?
The Positive Side Of Critical Bible Study
Where does this leave us? Some think such conclusions from modern critical Bible study cut the ground from under any vital faith. If the New Testament accounts of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus are not reliable history then all we have is pleasant, but meaningless, fiction about Jesus. Christians who call themselves fundamentalists feel this way. For them, if the New Testament and the gospels are not solid history, then there is no reason for trusting God who brings us to salvation through Jesus.
A seminary student who came from a fundamentalist background was put into a spiritual crisis when his biblical studies class began to question his uncritical biblical heritage. The critical Bible studies so devastated him he walked the floor at night in his apartment, trying to internalize this challenge to his faith. He never really got over this crisis. He drifted out of ordained ministry, saw his marriage crumble, agonized over a handicapped son, the violent death of another son, and never maintained a durable intimate relationship with another person. There have been numerous casualties of our modern critical approaches to the scriptures.
But like all things, there are two sides to this story. While our newer understandings of scripture have devastated the faith of many, it has also opened the possibility of serious belief to other modern people. Bishop John Shelby Spong describes his personal journey out of the fundamentalist culture in the American South. Along the way, this spiritual heritage became, for him, a hindrance to his Christian faith. He could not continue to hold a literal approach to scripture as he moved toward his adult years. He admits he is grateful for this basic grounding in a non-critical fundamentalist approach to scripture in his formative years. But as he moved out of the narrow world of his childhood and youth, he could not honestly express his faith in those terms and styles any longer. The experience of being forced to move on to a more critical, liberal faith became his central mission as an Episcopal priest, as a bishop of that tradition, and in retirement.
Spong is sensitive to those who cannot mesh their childhood faith with the modern world of science, critical historical research, and the increasing presence of other faith traditions. He has devoted his life to helping such people leave their confining spiritual moorings and move through the difficult, but rewarding effort toward a faith that joyfully embraces the truth of both past and present.
Jesus: A New Image Of God
Something that impressed the close followers of Jesus, something that they later said gave them a new understanding of God, was Jesus' willingness to put himself at risk. When Jesus told them he was planning to go up to Jerusalem, his disciples tried to warn him how dangerous that would be. Jerusalem at Passover would be filled with thousands of people. The possibility of a crowd disturbance by religious fanatics or violent revolutionaries would put Pilate and his security forces on "high alert." His followers may have sensed that Jesus' message of the coming kingdom of God could be easily misinterpreted by Pilate; Pilate was always suspicious of anything that might challenge his duty to keep order. Again, the high religious leaders of the Jews, those with a comfortable arrangement with Rome allowing them to keep their religious power and authority, would certainly be hostile to anyone who offered an alternative.
This may be the basis of the gospel stories where Jesus tells his friends that he felt compelled to go up to Jerusalem. These stories come to us many years after Jesus' death, reflecting later faith and understanding of what Jesus meant to them; but they may have a solid core of historical veracity about them. They ring true where Peter protests that Jesus should not do that: "And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, 'God forbid it, Lord! This must not happen to you' " (Matthew 16:22). It was evident to Peter and the disciples that this was a very risky decision.
Of course, Jesus is not dissuaded by their fears. Luke puts his strong commitment to going to Jerusalem in the face of danger and risk: "He set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Luke 9:51b). Concern for his personal safety could not keep him away from Passover. He must have been eager to preach, teach, and heal amid the large audiences there. Later reflections say this was part of God's plan -- giving himself up for us in a shattering, violent death. Certainly, his death provoked the radical claim of God upon the lives of many, but we need not theologize about Jesus taking this risky venture. His courage in proclaiming the kingdom of God was inspiring, for he and his disciples knew the high odds against his survival. Jesus became a profound source of inspiration simply because he was willing to put his life up as a witness to the saving truth which it contained.
We can understand this today. In politics the candidate for national office who has a valorous war record gains devotion and affirmation over another candidate who has none. Many Americans believe that the Vietnam conflict was a tragic mistake, a mar on the image of our country. The great national outrage and dissent over our involvement in Vietnam made this clear. Many Vietnam veterans were sensitive to the massive anti-war movements, feeling the protests to the war's dubious goals and shameful violence made them anti-heroes. While not withdrawing our objections, we have come to a high admiration for those who responded to the call of their country. Likewise. we have an admiration for Jesus who put himself at risk for others.
A God Who Suffers With Us
All this brings us to our lection from Paul's letter to the Christians at Philippi. How well this scripture fits our observance of Passion/Palm Sunday. In Philippi there was opposition to Paul from those whose self-interests were challenged. We do not know the specifics of this opposition. Some may have come from outside the church and some of it may have been from petty jealousies from within that congregation. Regardless, this opposition made Christian discipleship difficult and dangerous. Even if the gospel didn't put everyone in danger of their lives, certainly living out the sort of life that Paul demanded put them at odds with those who were at the level of narrowness, self-aggrandizement, and those who put security before anything else. Dealing with this would not be easy. Folks like this are always disruptive and in responding to them, one's time and energy are diverted from more central matters. They steal life from us.
An old observation given to a young person heading out to their first pastorate was, "Well, as you are called to feed the lambs in your congregation, be warned that you will find a few old rams." Living out the Christian life takes its inevitable toll. Let no one tell us that suffering for Christ is soothed over by mystic moments, by glorying in the resurrection, having someone who tells us that the Christian way is the way to an easy and successful life. But when we live this dangerous, risky, self-giving life it can be wonderfully attractive to others.
Paul reaches out to quote a hymn sung in his little churches. Its poetic lines speak of the effect of that risky caring for others -- the same risky caring prompting Jesus to go up to Jerusalem:
Who, though he was in the form of God,
Did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited,
But emptied himself, taking the form of a slave
Being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form, he humbled himself,
And become obedient to the point of death --
Even death on a cross.
-- Philippians 2:6-8
Then Paul drives home his point:
Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name
That is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus
Every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
And every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
To the glory of God the Father.
-- Philippians 2:9-11
Passion Sunday calls us to receive this truth -- for the first, or for the umpteenth time. Easter's joy will come soon enough. In the meantime, let us resist the rush toward Easter and hustle up to some Jerusalem that calls us. Then, like Jesus, we will be ready for Easter.
