March 28, 2010
Luke 19: 28-40

For Palm Sunday, we used four stories related to the events around Jesus' arrival in Jerusalem. Two of the stories were written for Oakhurst Baptist Church in the Atlanta area. They were the story of Mary pouring ointment on Jesus' feet just before the journey into Jerusalem and someone watching Jesus overturn the moneychangers' tables in the temple just after Palm Sunday (at least in Luke's Gospel.

These two segments below were created by Phil and Leah.

A disciple on a donkey mission By Pastor Phil
I have been traveling along with Jesus for a couple of years now, so I guess this sort of thing shouldn’t surprise me. But then again, Jesus has that way of catching me off guard when I least expect it.

It was like that first time I met him.  There I was in Galilee, just doing my work, and this stranger approached me and invited me to follow him.  I had heard the talk about him. Followers of John the Baptist said that John spoke highly of this man. Andrew and his brother Simon had already joined the little band of folks who thought this Jesus might be the one we had all been waiting for.

So for the past few years, we have been traveling all over Galilee and Judea. Jesus said some amazing things, helped out of lot of people … and really annoyed the religious authorities and raised the suspicions of the Romans. The word on the street is that they want to arrest him and kill him.

That’s why I was so shocked when he sent me and another one of his followers off to get a donkey so he could ride into Jerusalem on it. Was he crazy? Riding into Jerusalem is like riding into the arms of his enemies. He’s going to draw a crowd, that’s for sure. And crowds that are all revved up can hide people who want to hurt you. Crowds that are all revved up can turn ugly in the blink of an eye. That happens over and over. Why is he doing this?

He wants us to go into the village, untie a colt that has never been ridden, and bring it back. If the owner objects, we are just supposed to tell him that Jesus needs it. Maybe Jesus and this guy know each other. Maybe this guy just has that sense of sharing what he has with those who need it. I don’t know. I’m not so worried about getting the donkey. I’m worried about what comes next.

The people in this crowd are going to think they are powerful because they are creating a new king. The folks who think they hold power over us are going to turn this crowd against us. They are going to let this crowd they think they have the power of God to judge others. 

And Jesus is getting ready to go into the midst of all of this, hoping that maybe we have absorbed some of his lessons along the way about serving one another, loving even our enemies, forgiving those who hurt us, putting our trust in God. That all sounded pretty simple on that hillside in Galilee. It’s not so simple as we start the journey into Jerusalem.

Pastor Leah concluded the reflection time by looking at the final words Luke's story of Jesus' arrival in Jerusalem: "I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out."

These Stones Would Shout By Pastor Leah
My words this morning are just that- my words.  This isn’t meant to be a narrative from the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem.  You see, my job this morning is to talk about the stones crying out, and I don’t think I make a very convincing rock.  I also wouldn’t fit the description of a Pharisee, one of the Jewish leaders who warned Jesus to silence the crowd.  Turns out they’re all men.  So, my words—that’s what you get.

The little old lady English teacher with the tight bun who lives in my head loves this passage.  Luke’s account of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem is filled with echoes of the Christmas story.  The parallels are beautiful. 

Mary, the virgin mother (however you’d like to interpret that) rides a donkey just before her son is to be delivered.  Jesus, the one who came to deliver the people, enters the city on a colt that has never been ridden. 

The angels appear to the shepherds and sing of peace on earth.  The people line the streets, turn their faces to the sky, and sing “Peace in heaven.”  Here are God’s faithful, here we are the church, the Body of Christ caught this morning in the crossfire of blessings, of hope-filled prayers for peace.
  
It shouldn’t surprise us then that the passage for today takes us to the streets of Jerusalem.  In the tradition of Jesus’ followers and the traditions of a variety of people of faith still today, it is the point of contact between heaven and earth.  It’s where all things come together.  It’s where Jesus is both declared king and crucified.  Even today, it’s the religious haven of people of several faiths but also a home to violence, division, and hatred.  

And then here is Jesus, astride a lowly colt, not atop a high horse.  He rides into a deadly situation without force or protection and gives himself freely and without any reservation.  Here he is at his most prophetic, a sign to the people who lined the streets, to the Pharisees, and to us of God’s vulnerable love, a love that risks everything and promises to gain all. 

This is how God creates peace.  This is the point of contact that God is trying to make between heaven and earth in Jesus, for the people of Jerusalem, and for all God’s people.  The disciples’ song on this day is more than a song of heavenly rest and hope in the world to come.  It is about, as the writer of Matthew’s gospel says, “the kingdom of the heavens” which draws near in Jesus who comes to challenge and change the powers and the kingdoms of this world.
  
So stones, I’m supposed to be talking about the stones crying out. 

Jesus answers the Pharisees who tell him to shush his disciples, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”  Here’s what I think he’s saying to them and to us, “Who I am and my message of love and reconciliation are so basic, natural, and essential to who you are and are called to be as a part of God’s beloved creation that even the rocks get it.  If the people were quiet, if they didn’t celebrate me and God’s love that I came to share, nature would find a way to lift its voice in praise. 

These people have glimpsed life as it should be—abundant, whole, joyful, and full of peace.  They have had a taste of heaven’s peace, and they have seen what it can mean for our lives here together.  That is why they are celebrating.  They are starting to understand Love.  They are starting to understand God.  How can they not shout and sing?”  

Here is the new kind of king, a king of peace who will dismantle the weaponry of war, of division, of violence, of hatred with the power of vulnerable, relational, reconciling love.  And this king, he knows this love to be God’s most powerful truth, so powerful, in fact, that all of creation knows it, even the rocks beneath our feet.  It is a truth that cannot be silenced.  It is too big, too powerful, and too essential to who we are together and with God to be kept under wraps for long.
 
This is the truth; the powerful, vulnerable love that Jesus is referring to when he says the stones will cry out.  He is referencing a prophet he knows well, Habakkuk, who tells the people to share their vision, to make it clear and lived out in their daily lives. 

This is a vision of justice in which all God’s people are honored and no one is downtrodden or misused.  It is a vision that encourages the people to live by and trust their faith, not to depend on power or wealth or prestige.  It is a vision that turns the people from violence and division and corruption and makes their aim the generous and risky and reconciling love of God.
  
And when the people of Habakkuk’s time, or the people that line the streets of Jerusalem, or the people gathered here this morning catch that vision of love, then we are truly caught in the crossfire of blessings.  Then we see the coming together of heaven and earth in peace, then we know what the rocks would cry out if given voice. 

May our lives sound that cry of love in the world.  Amen.