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When I sat down sometime about Wednesday afternoon to begin to write this Palm Sunday sermon, I thought I had the perfect way to begin.

How to Make a Grand Entrance - Luke 19: 29-40; Psalm 118: 19-29 - March 28, 2010-
Cicero United Methodist Church - Everett J. Bassett

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            When I sat down sometime about Wednesday afternoon to begin to write this Palm Sunday sermon, I thought I had the perfect way to begin. I was going to begin to talk about Jesus' triumphant entrance into Jerusalem by first talking about the victorious
homecoming of the Syracuse Orange basketball team after winning their place in the
Final Four of the NCAA tournament. Alas, that never came to be, and I know there is
disappointment about that all around this room; but I can offer you this consolation: This
morning's sermon will be about two minutes shorter. (And it still was a great ride with
our SU team this year, wasn't it?)

            So, with what can we compare Jesus' grand entrance into Jerusalem? This winter,
after Super Bowl XLIV there was a great victory parade down in New Orleans. Was it
like that that day in Jerusalem 2000 years ago? Or was it a smaller venue, like the parade
some small towns have when a favorite son or daughter returns from the war in Iraq or
Afghanistan? Was it more like the red carpet treatment that a supreme leader - a king or
queen - might expect when passing through town? Or was it more like the preparation
that takes place for a campaign stop - where advance people go in ahead of time to make
preparations and to fire up the crowd before the candidate arrives. There are Bible
students who have noticed that in the Gospel of Luke, the journey to Jerusalem by Jesus
seems to be a slow and meaningful process - so there would be anticipation building as
Jesus approached the city. Some have seen Jesus' instruction to the disciples to go in and
secure the donkey, and to say designated code-words, as a sign that Jesus and his people
had set up this parade in advance, and now the signal had to be given. The gate Jesus
chose to enter the city was not just any gate - it was one the Messiah would ride through
some day, to bring liberation to the Jewish people. Was Jesus making a statement?

            All this conjecture lies behind a high and exulted moment in the life of Christ. The teacher from way out in the boonies of Nazareth - the one that was doing all the healing and miracles - the one all the buzz was about - was ready to take the big city by storm. Here at last. And don't we want to be part of it? Isn't Palm Sunday one of our favorite Sundays of the year? Jesus really knows how to make a grand entrance. It was the red carpet treatment - people throwing their garments in his path so his great steed's foot wouldn't touch common ground - waving branches and shouting royal acclamations like they would for any great general or king riding his majestic horse into the city ...

            . . . except. .. this was not quite what we expected. That is not a mighty steed the king is riding, like someone would who wants to exude power. It is, instead, more like the
scenario spoken of by the old prophet Zechariah, about a king who arrives humbly, riding
a donkey, and speaking a message of peace. And the leaders of the city are not out here
bowing down beside us. They're over there grumbling against this upstart, telling him to
put a stop to this parade, so it doesn't get out of hand.

The fact is, when Jesus makes a grand entrance, it's not quite what we expect. But he
was never what was expected. The people of his day had such a difficult time fitting their
hopes and expectations into the reality of someone who came with a much different agenda. And that certainly is why many of those people in that Palm Sunday crowd were
nowhere to be found later in the week when Jesus was on trial. Worse yet, some of them
were surely in that crowd that shouted, "Crucify him!" when Friday rolled around. A
king on a donkey? No way to make a grand entrance. Get rid of him.

            That is certainly a sad misunderstanding of what Jesus was all about. What makes it even sadder is that it is a misunderstanding that has continued throughout history -
people have always been waiting for a different Jesus to make his grand entrance. We
see it happening even before the last words of the New Testament were written, in the
Book of Revelations. The followers of Jesus were going through desperate times-
falsely accused, brutally persecuted. No doubt wondering how they had ended up this
way - suffering for their faith. Surely God would not allow this to continue. Surely
Jesus would come this time on a great steed, with a sword in his hand, and heads would
roll. No one would push Jesus and his followers around any more. That would be a
grand entrance. And you can almost hear the Palm Sunday Jesus saying once again, "No.
Not like that. I come humbly, riding on a little donkey."

            But down through the centuries right to the present day, people have held on to this longing for a warrior-Jesus. Here's the way one person put it, as quoted by Brian
McLaren in his book A New Kind of Christianity: "In Revelation, Jesus is a prize-fighter
with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone
bleed. That is the guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ
because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up." You won't see that Jesus riding in on a
donkey. But you also won't see that Jesus on a cross. And it seems pretty important in
our faith to remember that the symbol of our faith is not the sword, but the cross.

            All this is to say that we should learn from the way Jesus made his entrance. It is
great to wave palms, but it is important to wave palms for the Savior that actually
arrived, not the one many wish had come. Because I still believe God's way was the best
way - and God's way was a Savior of the cross - not a warrior of the sword. The way
of war is always a temporary solution. There will always be another battle, another
bomb, another foe. The greatest warriors of Jesus' day are long gone - their battles are
vague whispers of history. But the way of peace, the way of the true Savior who arrived
that day, is still as strong as ever. The figure of that humble, lowly rider, seated on a
donkey - has stood the ages, because it touches the deepest hopes of humankind,
generation after generation. It brings the promise of salvation, and the true kingdom of
God - a kingdom where love overcomes violence.

            As we enter this Holy Week, journeying with Jesus through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, all the way to Easter, this is the Savior we will get to know - one who
rode a little donkey; one who took the form of a servant to wash his disciples' feet; one
who symbolized his lowliness with broken bread and raised cup; one who stood silent
before his accusers; one who was mocked and spit upon; and one who carried his own
cross to his place of death. And what I believe will come clear to us is that this path
Jesus chose was one of lowliness and humility - but not one of weakness. In fact, it was
one of incredible strength, a strength that calls out to those courageous enough to follow.

            The spirit of that path is represented, I think, in an event that actually took place on Palm Sunday in 1966. It took place in a Christian church in Ibillin, Israel. The pastor
was Elias Chacour, and he is the one who tells this story. The village was bitterly divided
over the Palestinian conflict, breaking up families, and causing deep rifts in the church.
On that Palm Sunday, Chacour preached what he called an uninspired sermon, as he
looked out at people who sat far from each other, seething with hatred, not looking at one
another. His heart was broken, so he was called to take action. Before the service ended,
he suddenly walked to the back of the church, locked the only doors, and took the key.

He spoke to his congregation about his grief over their hatred. And then he said this:

"This morning while I celebrated the liturgy, I found someone who is able to help you.

In fact, he is the only one who can work the miracle of reconciliation in this village. This
person who can reconcile you is Jesus Christ, and he is here with you ...

            "So on Christ's behalf, I say this to you: The doors of the church are locked. Either you kill each other right here in your hatred ... or you use this opportunity to be reconciled together ... "

            Chacour tells that here was tense silence for ten minutes, before a village policeman stood and prayed for forgiveness. Then another man prayed, then another. Before it was over, said Chacour, that dead congregation had experienced the resurrection of Easter.

            I would say that they also experienced the truth about Palm Sunday - a truth so many people have missed: that the King who made his grand entrance that day was a Savior whose heart was moved toward a victory of peace and love in a hurting world. And we need to recapture that spirit.

            We need it in our nation, following a week where we have seen an ugly side to
ourselves after last Sunday's health care vote - people responding with threats and
hateful actions. We need it in our churches, where deep divisions abide over issues like
homosexuality and authority. We need it in our families, where lasting grudges are
nurtured, and jealousy and unaddressed conflict are too common. And we need it in our
hearts, where we struggle under the tyranny of sin, with so many dark thoughts we can
hide from others, but not from God.

            The king has arrived. He arrived God's way - the way of love and forgiveness. And while we paint other scenarios in our minds, deep inside we know that it is the best way - it is the one path that offers new life, and we are called to walk it this week. May the palm branch we take from this service be a reminder of the Savior who suffered for us so that the way of love could overcome the way of sin. And may this week, with its deep valleys, be a holy journey of welcoming him anew into our lives. Jesus is here with a love that can break down your walls and heal your sorrows. Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is the one who comes to save this world.